I don't have anything left in me.
I tried to have a small dinner party last night, so that Rachel wouldn't feel excluded from our friend who has come to visit.
She decided this was the best time to tell me who she's seeing now. We were chatting in the backyard.
The also-separated father of one of Rhys' friends. He had been to our house, for Rhys' birthday party.
They have play-dates as often as they can. Rachel simply raves about what good friends the two kids are.
If you can believe that.
If you can believe that, then the story seems nearly perfect.
.
