My heart felt a pang of bitterness as my eyes fell upon Tommy's bag, left behind on the sofa. Recalling that the restaurant they'd mentioned wasn't far, I quickly slipped on my shoes, worried he might lack money to settle the bill, and hurried downstairs to deliver it. When I arrived at the restaurant, just as I was about to step inside, the scene through the glass window froze me in my tracks. There they were—my son, his wife, my wife. And, seated among them as if he belonged, my wife's first love. The four of them sat together, laughing and chatting with a warmth I could hardly remember being a part of, like they were the real family and I was a forgotten shadow. Swallowing my anger, I walked in and handed the bag to Tommy. "You left your bag behind. I was afraid you wouldn't have money to pay." He crossed his arms, his tone sharp. "Weren't you not coming?" His words stung, but I masked my pain, turned to leave, and was halfway out when I heard his sneering voice behind
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