I Let His Mistress Deliver My Divorce

At dinner, my son asked my husband in German, "Dad, when are you going to divorce Mom and marry Miss Elena?"Julian kept peeling the shell off my egg, his expression perfectly calm as he answered in German, "That depends on when your Miss Elena agrees to my proposal."My son rolled his eyes. "Then you'd better step it up. I don't want to call the witch 'Mom' anymore."I kept eating breakfast. My eyes burned.Julian tensed the moment he saw. "What's wrong, Viv?"I shook my head. "Nothing. Just choked on the egg."But the egg he'd peeled for me sat untouched on my plate. The tears came because I understood every word they said.