I replayed our entire relationship in my head. Eight years of marriage. The way he looked at me on our wedding day. How he cried the night Sophie was born. Every moment suddenly felt like it might be hiding something. And the worst part? I couldn’t ask him. Because what if the answer destroyed everything?
The next few days were torture. I moved through our routines like a ghost. Made breakfast. Packed Sophie’s lunch. Smiled at Evan when he kissed me goodbye. My mind screamed questions I couldn’t voice.
Sophie didn’t bring it up again, but I’d catch her setting toys aside when she thought I wasn’t looking. “What are you doing, sweetie?” “Just saving some toys for my brother.” Every time she said it, something inside me cracked a little more.
I started noticing things I’d never paid attention to before. The way Evan’s phone was always face down. The way he’d sometimes stare into space like he was somewhere else. Were those signs I’d missed? Or was I creating a story that didn’t exist?
Eventually, I knew I couldn’t sit with it anymore. I had to know the truth. And I had to hear it from Helen first. I showed up at her house without calling.
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