Sophie stood.
So did Daniel and Lucy.
I faced my husband.
“She found my first-date dress in storage months ago,” I said.
“She wanted to wear it to a scholarship dinner.”
I looked at Sophie.
“When I helped her try it on, she finally told me why she had stopped eating breakfast with us.”
Greg’s mouth tightened.
“What are you talking about?”
“She didn’t want you watching her plate,” I said.
“She didn’t want another joke about bread, thighs or her lack of discipline.”
“Harmless teasing,” Greg said.
He looked around the room.
“She misunderstood me.”
Sophie stepped forward.
“You said, ‘Do you really need breakfast when that skirt already looks tight?’”
Greg went still.
“You said it while driving me to school.”
Sophie continued.
“Two days later, you asked whether I wanted to end up like Mom. Then you laughed and told me not to be so sensitive.”
The room fell silent again.
Daniel stood next.
“He does it to me too.”
Greg looked at him.
Daniel’s voice was steady.
“He compares my body to my teammates’ bodies and asks whether a college coach would recruit someone built like me.”
Greg’s expression changed.
Then he looked at Lucy.
Our youngest didn’t stand.
Her voice shook.
“I hide snacks because dinner feels like a test.”
She swallowed.
“Dad watches everyone chew.”
Greg stared at her as if she had betrayed him.
And in that moment, something finally became clear to me.
He wanted obedience.
Not honesty.
I picked up the photograph from the box.
It showed Greg and me outside the restaurant where we had our first date.
I had cut the photograph down the middle.
Greg remained on one side, smiling proudly.
I held my half.
“I spent years trying to become her again,” I said.
“I thought losing the woman you married was what caused our problems.”
I looked at Sophie.
