My ex, Colin, has been remarried to Dina for eight years, but I’ve never liked her sharp demeanor. For our son Dax’s graduation, I asked Colin not to bring her, thinking it would keep the day peaceful. As the event ended, Dax said, “You’ll never know how much that hurt me.” His words stung—he felt forced to choose sides on his special day. I apologized over lunch, learning Dina had been there for him, like during Colin’s surgery. Seeking clarity, I
invited Dina for coffee. She admitted the tension of being the second wife, and I acknowledged my lingering anger. We found common ground for Dax’s sake. Later, Dax asked us both for internship letters. Dina’s was heartfelt, focused on his resilience. At her garden brunch, we were civil, even warm. We’re not friends, but we’re unified for Dax, who feels whole again. I learned my grudge was more about ego than protection. Letting go healed us all.
