Chapter 2 - Six Days of Silence
I stared at the photograph until the screen dimmed.
Then I tapped it awake again.
Liam.
There was no possibility of mistake.
The same dark hair.
The same watch I'd given him on our first anniversary.
The same blue shirt he'd worn when he left home that morning.
The woman sat opposite him, but the angle hid most of her face.
I typed:
Who is this?
No response.
How did you get my number?
Nothing.
I called.
The call went directly to voicemail.
I tried again.
Same result.
I saved the photograph.
Then I saved screenshots of the message.
My hands were steady now.
That frightened me more than crying would have.
On Sunday morning, Liam came downstairs at nine.
"Happy anniversary."
He kissed my cheek.
"Happy anniversary."
He held out a small jewelry box.
Inside was a silver bracelet.
"It's beautiful."
"You like it?"
"I do."
He looked relieved.
For a moment, I almost felt sorry for him.
Then I remembered the call.
Of course I hate her.
I closed the box.
"I have a surprise tonight too."
His eyebrows rose.
"Oh?"
"Both families are coming."
His face changed.
Only for a second.
"What?"
"Dinner."
"Emily, why?"
"Because it's our anniversary."
"I thought it was just us."
"I changed my mind."
He stared at me.
"Who exactly did you invite?"
"Your mom. Your sister. My parents. Aaron. A few others."
Something moved behind his eyes.
Fear?
"Why?"
"You already asked that."
"No, I mean why suddenly make it a family thing?"
I smiled.
"I thought it would be memorable."
He didn't smile back.
By five, the house smelled like roasted chicken and rosemary.
My mother arrived early and helped with Hailey.
Liam's mother, Patricia, brought flowers.
Peonies.
I nearly cried when I saw them.
"I remembered they're your favorite," she said.
"Thank you."
Liam heard.
His eyes dropped briefly to the yellow roses he'd bought earlier that week.
At six, everyone was seated.
Conversation filled the room.
My father talked football with Liam's uncle.
Patricia held Hailey.
Liam drank wine.
I watched him perform the role of loving husband with astonishing ease.
He touched my shoulder.
He praised dinner.
He told my father how lucky he was.
Each lie made what I planned easier.
After dessert, I took Hailey from Patricia.
Then I picked up my glass.
"I want to make a toast."
The room quieted.
Liam stiffened.
I smiled at him.
"My dear husband, Liam..."
His fingers tightened around his wineglass.
"Two years ago, I stood in front of everyone we loved and promised to trust you."
Nobody moved.
"I meant it."
Liam swallowed.
"Emily—"
"I'm not finished."
My mother looked at me sharply.
I continued.
"This week taught me something important about trust."
Liam's face drained.
I reached beside my plate and picked up my phone.
"I learned that sometimes the truth doesn't arrive because you're searching for it."
Silence.
"Sometimes your husband simply forgets to disconnect a phone call."
Patricia whispered, "Oh, God."
Liam stood.
"Emily."
I pressed play.
His recorded voice filled the dining room.
I had only captured part of the accidental call before ending it, but it was enough.
"She's driving me insane."
Liam went white.
"I just want her to leave me alone."
Then the woman's laughter.
My father rose slowly.
I stopped the recording before the worst sentence.
Not because Liam deserved mercy.
Because Hailey was in my arms.
And because I wanted the next words to come from me.
"You told another woman you hated me."
Liam stared around the table.
"That's not what happened."
"Really?"
"It's out of context."
My brother Aaron laughed once.
"What context makes that sentence good?"
"Aaron, stay out of it."
"Don't talk to him," I said. "Talk to me."
Liam looked at me.
For once, he had no prepared expression.
"Who is she?"
He said nothing.
"Tell them."
"Emily, can we do this privately?"
"No."
"You're humiliating me."
The absurdity almost made me smile.
"I'm humiliating you?"
Patricia stood.
"Liam, answer your wife."
"Mom—"
"Who is the woman?"
His jaw tightened.
"A coworker."
"Name?"
He looked at me.
"Claire."
There it was.
Claire.
A name.
A real person.
"How long?"
"It's complicated."
"How long?"
"Three months."
My stomach twisted.
Hailey was three months old.
I stared at him.
He understood immediately.
"No. Emily, no. It didn't start when Hailey was born."
"Then when?"
He looked away.
My mother covered her mouth.
"While I was pregnant?"
Silence answered me.
I nodded.
Calmly.
"Thank you."
"Emily, listen—"
"I have been listening."
I reached beneath the table and picked up an envelope.
Liam stared at it.
"What is that?"
"Something I prepared."
I slid it toward him.
He opened it.
His expression changed.
"You talked to a lawyer?"
"I talked to someone who explained my options."
"You can't be serious."
"I've never been more serious."
He looked around the table as though somebody might rescue him.
Nobody did.
Then my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
Another message.
I opened it.
This time there was no photograph.
Only a sentence.
Claire isn't the woman you should be worried about. Ask Liam where your maternity savings went.
I looked up.
Liam saw my expression.
"What?"
I turned the phone toward him.
May you like
His face changed before he'd even finished reading.
And that was when I knew the affair wasn't the only secret.
