After we left Stars Harbor, I insisted that Margot move into our house—and Adam move out. Selflessly risking his life to pull Ted from the stormy water, and then going back to do it again for Rini, was reckless but honorable. Those final acts were his saving grace, and the only reason I didn’t file divorce papers as soon as we got home. Still, a break was nonnegotiable.
In my reading, Rini had told me that every loss makes space for gain. Although I was terrified to lose my family and our picture-perfect life, I was finally ready to take that risk. Truth be told, the alternative was no longer feasible. I could no longer ride along with every plot twist and turn Adam dreamed up on the fly. His books might need to continually raise the stakes, building to an over-the-top climax, but real life requires more stability than fiction.
Moving Margot in, at the same time as Adam was leaving, helped ward off too many questions from the girls. They were happy to have their aunt in the house for a while.
Since Adam doesn’t feature prominently on my social media accounts, I originally had no intention of exposing our separation. Yet something compelled me to share that I was struggling. A small voice in the depth of my belly—a whisper that didn’t understand algorithms and high-engagement content—told me to tell the truth. The messy truth. I wanted to admit that no, I didn’t have it all under control, and no, I didn’t have it all figured out.
Farah, on the other hand, knew her relationship was over after Joe was willing to use their son to save his political career. Beckett is thriving in occupational therapy twice a week, but Joe and Farah are in mediation to dissolve their marriage. I’m decidedly unsure whether our separation is the first step toward Adam and me divorcing or whether, like my photo shoots, this is one of the dozens of tries it takes to get it right. And it’s okay to let the future remain out of focus.
I don’t know… yet. But I will.
That was the takeaway of my first “honest” post, which was viewed by 350,000 users in its first twenty-four hours. My following has continued to grow by tens of thousands with each post. Most of my grid is still populated with adorable pics of the girls, but my sad Solo cup of wine gets shared twice as much. I was worried Margot would see my admissions as betrayal, but she’s proud of me for not going to extremes and instead trying to find peace in the middle. It proves to her that I’ve changed.
She’s also got a lot more on her mind than my loyalty to her brother.
I thought nothing of it when Margot found herself exhausted and vomiting regularly after Ted’s funeral. She was in distress. But when the weeks became nearly two months, I begged Farah to run some blood tests to make sure this wasn’t anything more than extraordinary grief.
Turned out it was something more: the cruelest twist of fate. Remember all those fainting spells Margot had that weekend at Stars Harbor? They weren’t from stress. After five years of unsuccessfully trying to conceive, Margot was pregnant. It was what she’d always wanted, but now this blessing was awash in darkness. Margot is carrying the offspring of a—I won’t say it, because my nurse mother warned me against speaking ill of the dead, but you know what he was.
I told Margot she had choices, but she refused to consider the multiple reasons in favor of termination. She is convinced that if there’s any ounce of evil passed on from Ted’s DNA in this miracle baby, her nurturing will overpower his nature. Again, I’m not so sure yet.
Farah and I make a great team caring for Margot—she’s the medical guru for the challenging pregnancy, while I’m the emotional support. The three of us are bonded deeper than I could’ve imagined before our astrology retreat weekend.
Even after they move out, I expect to keep Margot and her baby close, not only because I love my sister-in-law and my future niece or nephew, but to make sure her judgment isn’t as clouded as it was with Ted. I’ll be her eyes wide open. The best thing I took away from Stars Harbor was a healthy dose of skepticism.