Richard had been discussing my postpartum problems in detail.
He called me broken.
Lazy.
He joked about my recovery.
Whenever someone responded with laughing emojis, Richard encouraged it.
Then I reached a message he had sent three days before the party.
I read it twice.
“Boys, when I pull the package out tonight, I need huge reactions. Laugh loudly. Act shocked. Trust me, it’ll be legendary.”
My stomach turned.
He had planned it.
Every part of it.
He had even told them how to react.
David sent another message.
“I muted that chat weeks ago because I couldn’t stand reading it anymore. I didn’t scroll back until this morning. That’s when I saw what he sent before the party. If I had seen it earlier, I would have warned you. I’m sorry I stayed quiet as long as I did. I should have said something the first time.”
