MIA

The afternoon sun was pouring through my kitchen window, highlighting the thin layer of dust on the counter and the sticky handprints my four-year-old, Yoko, had left behind.

I was standing over a cutting board, slicing up some ham and cheese for his lunch, but my eyes weren't on the knife.

They were rather glued to the house directly across the street.

It had been four years since I walked away from Derek, my baby daddy.

We’d been the ‘it’ couple in our circle until I found out he was having a whole other life—and a whole other baby—with another woman.

I knew Derek was a player when I...