Chapter 2
The woman smiled. A tight, nervous smile.
"Can we come in?" she asked.
Her voice was soft. Pleasant. The kind of voice that probably made people trust her.
I wanted to slam the door in her face.
But Harper squeezed my hand.
"Let them in," she said quietly. "I want to hear this."
I stepped aside.
They walked into my house. The boy—her son, Graham's son—looked around the living room with wide eyes. Like he was comparing it to his own home.
The woman looked at Graham.
"You said you'd tell them," she said. Her voice was gentle, but there was an edge to it. "You said you'd handle it."
"I was getting to it," Graham said, his voice defensive.
"Getting to it?" I said, rounding on him. "How long, Graham? How long have you been bringing them into our lives while lying to my face?"
"Eighteen years," the boy said quietly.
Everyone turned to look at him.
He was tall. Almost as tall as Graham. He had Graham's brown hair, Graham's broad shoulders. But his eyes were his mother's. Dark. Intense.
"I'm Ethan," he said, looking at Harper and me. "And I've known about you for three years. Dad... Graham... he told me about you. Said you were his sister's family. That you lived in Austin. That's why he was always 'visiting his sister' when he came to see me."
I felt sick.
Eighteen years.
This boy was eighteen years old.
Graham and I had been married for twenty-one.
"Before we got married," I whispered. "You had a child before we got married and you never told me."
Graham looked at the floor.
"I was going to tell you," he said. "I just... I didn't know how."
"You had twenty-one years to figure it out," Harper said, her voice cold.
"Vanessa and I... we were high school sweethearts," Graham said, finally looking up. "We broke up right after graduation. I didn't know she was pregnant. She didn't tell me until Ethan was fifteen."
"Three years ago," I said. "You found out three years ago and you didn't tell me."
"I was scared," he said. "Scared you'd leave me. Scared Harper would hate me. I didn't want to break up our family."
"So you broke it anyway," Harper said. She turned to Vanessa. "And you? You knew about us? You knew he was married and you let him lie to us?"
Vanessa held up her hands. "I didn't want to be the other woman," she said. "Graham told me he was going to tell you. That he was going to get a divorce. That we'd be a family. I've been waiting three years for him to keep his promise."
My head snapped toward Graham.
"Divorce?" I said. "You told her you were going to divorce me?"
Graham's face went pale. "Elaine, that's not exactly—"
"Not exactly what?" I shouted. "Not exactly that you've been stringing her along for three years while you've been stringing me along for twenty-one? Which lie should I believe first?"
"I never meant to hurt anyone," Graham said, and he actually looked like he was going to cry. "I just... I have two sons. I have two families. I didn't want to choose."
"You didn't have a choice," Ethan said. Everyone looked at him. He was staring at Graham, his eyes hard. "You chose the day you decided to lie to everyone. You chose the day you started paying my tuition instead of Harper's. You chose the day you told Mom you'd leave Elaine and never did."
He paused, swallowing hard.
"And you chose the day you told me you were proud of me and then couldn't even be bothered to introduce me to your other daughter."
Harper flinched.
Ethan looked at her. For a long moment, they just stared at each other. Brother and sister. Strangers.
"I didn't know," he said quietly. "About the tuition. He told me he was paying yours too. That you were okay with everything. That you knew about me."
Harper's face crumpled.
She turned and ran up the stairs.
I heard her bedroom door slam.
I looked at Graham. At Vanessa. At Ethan.
At the mess my husband had made of all our lives.
"Get out," I said, my voice like ice.
"Elaine, please," Graham started.
"GET OUT!" I screamed. "All of you. Get out of my house."
Vanessa grabbed Ethan's arm. "Come on, baby. Let's go."
They walked to the door. Ethan looked back once, his eyes full of regret.
Graham didn't move.
"I'm not leaving," he said. "This is my house too."
I walked to the hall closet and pulled out his suitcase. The one he used for business trips. I threw it at his feet.
"Pack your things," I said. "You have an hour. If you're not gone by then, I'm calling the police."
He stared at me. Disbelieving.
"Elaine, we can work this out. We can go to therapy. We can—"
"Pack," I said. "And don't you dare go near Harper's room."
He stood there for another minute. Then he hung his head and walked toward our bedroom.
I sank down onto the couch, my legs giving out beneath me.
Twenty-one years of marriage.
Nineteen years of being a mother.
And none of it was real.
I reached for my phone and called the only person I could think of.
My sister, Claire.
She answered on the first ring.
"Elaine?" she said. "What's wrong?"
May you like
I opened my mouth to speak.
But all that came out was a sob.
