That day, in the car, I did as David commanded and dropped it. I didn’t say another word, not on the entire drive back home. I was so furious I don’t remember where we had lunch. The effects of betrayal are deep, and lasting, especially when you are harmed by the people you love the most. I know you’ve been betrayed by someone you loved, haven’t you? See, you don’t forget it. You say you’re over it, but you still remember it, feel the weight of it deep down in your heart. I’m just like you. That day I was in shock, consumed by anger. It’s understandable, don’t you agree?

I force the memories away and stare into the fireplace. I am looking forward to my little coffee date with Elizabeth James tomorrow. It’s step one in the Jane back in control plan. I need her out of our lives completely so I can reconnect with David and Betsy. She’s a malignant tumor I need to extract.

We haven’t seen each other for more than a year. She’d been wary to meet me, for good reason, but I pleaded with her, one mother to another. It’s just coffee, I’d promised.

I stand up feeling a little dizzy from the wine, but it’s nice. I should be able to go back to sleep now. I turn off the fire, flip off the lights in the kitchen and living room, and walk to our bedroom, following the sound of David’s snores. I slide into bed, praying for sleep. Tomorrow is a big day.

As I try to fall asleep I remember my first ladies’ luncheon at The Cove. I’d taken extra time to curl my hair, to wear my most expensive, best-fitting tennis dress. The girls were home with the babysitter. All heads turned as I walked into the room, the new, hot young mom. We’ve all been there. You think you’re queen of the castle until a new princess arrives on the scene. A silence washed over the four white-tablecloth-draped tables.

“Hello, are you Jane?” A woman with a big smile, huge fake boobs (not done as expertly as mine) and an impossibly large diamond extended her hand. “I’m Sarah. Welcome to the neighborhood.” She broke the ice. Deemed me worthy of their acceptance. I should thank her someday, I suppose.

As Sarah escorted me to the seat next to her at table three, the idle conversation started up around me. I knew I was the topic. Once seated, all of my tablemates introduced themselves. I was invited to a Mommy and Me playgroup on Tuesdays, another woman asked me to be her tennis partner in the upcoming mixer. Another asked me to join her book club. Bunco was every Thursday night. I accepted every invitation.