and held out his hand to Ava. She looked at me. I nodded. It was her choice.
She took his hand. They went out to the dance floor. The DJ played some slow song.
Halfway through, Ava stopped dancing. She stood there on the floor with her father and said something to him I couldn’t hear.
Max’s face went pale.
Then Ava turned around and walked back to our table and sat down next to Edward.
“What did you say to him?” I asked her quietly.
Ava looked at her plate.
“I said, ‘Please don’t say mean things about Mom in front of me anymore.’” She swallowed. “And I said, ‘And don’t say June will get chubby. Ever. She’s three.’”
I looked at my daughter.
Ten years old. Standing up to her father in the middle of a dance floor in front of a hundred and fifty people.
She’d been
