At my ex-husband’s military funeral, his pregnant mistress sat in front as his family treated her like the widow. But when the general came forward with the folded flag, he walked past her, stopped in front of me and our triplets, then saluted. “Captain,” he said for everyone to hear. What happened next stunned the entire cemetery. My kitchen was filled with the low hum of the refrigerator and the usual morning chaos of three seven-year-olds getting ready for school.
