“Grateful for you.” He leans over and kisses me.
I feel nothing. Just skin touching.
He knows I don’t mean it.
Everyone else around the table chews in silence.
“Well, I’m grateful for Grandma’s mac and cheese! We missed this last year.” My sister Shelby shovels a spoonful into her mouth. Her stomach is the size of the 20-pound turkey at the center of the dining room table.
It’s no secret how the pandemic has treated our respective marriages.
But for Grandma’s sake, Frank and I have agreed we’ll wait until after the holidays to announce the divorce.