Chapter 7

Alex's mom, Angelina Carter, invited me over for lunch on Sunday.

She was a retired primary school teacher, spoke slowly, looked at others gently, and was an expert in making beef stew.

She'd always treated me well during the four years I'd been with Alex.

On the phone, she didn't mention the quarrel and only said, "Rosy, I made some soup. Come over and have some. Alex will be there too."

I wanted to refuse, but the words choked up in my throat.

Some relationships weren't only about two people. It was tangled up with family gatherings, relatives, mutual friends,…