Then North happened. Things were okay for the first few months, but you could tell the baby’s crying and constant need for attention got to the Asshole. Oh, he said he loved your child, but as time went by, you weren’t so sure.

About a year after North was born, the Asshole barely came home anymore. You started to form a case against him. All the reasons you should leave. Then you found some emails between him and another woman on his computer: banal innuendo, cheesy banter, a few sexts. You were pretty sure he wasn’t in love with this woman, but it was the final straw. Now it wouldn’t be your fault if you left him. You could at last walk away.

When he decided to come home that night, he was surly and quiet. He passed by you in the kitchen without saying hello. He passed by North’s room and gave it only an exhausted glance.

It was over fast. He barely cared that you were leaving. But when you went to take out your half of what was in the bank account, imagine your surprise when you discovered there was nothing left. All your years of careful spending and saving—how could this have happened? Turns out the Asshole had a few more credit cards in both your names you had no idea about, and when he sensed things were taking a turn, he used your joint savings to pay them off. He did it to spite you, it seemed, because you were always the frugal one, the careful one, the person who eschewed buying a bigger car or renting a nicer apartment because it was better to live within your means.

You and North took off even though you had next to nothing. Moved down the coast, ended up in a pretty town with a quaint name: Raisin Beach. You rented the first apartment you were able to afford, a terrible little place that was loud and cheaply built and had bugs. It was like you were in your childhood bedroom again, burrowed under threadbare sheets, watching the lights above you flicker because your family didn’t have enough to pay the electric bill that month. No, you thought. I can’t go back to that. You looked at North. We’ll get through this, won’t we, buddy? North smiled brightly at you, but you could tell he was scared, too.

The town was wealthy. You wondered if you made a wrong move, but at the same time, you wanted to belong here. You studied the people on the streets, in the shops, in the grocery stores, the polished mothers, the effortlessness of it all. You wanted to be one of them, the kind of mother people envied, the kind of woman for whom no one felt sorry.