Chapter 2
The morning after Caleb admitted he had betrayed me while still loving me, I woke up with a strange realization.
I wasn't crying anymore.
For seven months, my husband had been living two lives. For the past several days, I had been trying to force those lives into one story that made sense.
But there was no version of the truth that could make what he had done acceptable.
And there was one question I hadn't asked yet.
Not because I was afraid of the answer.
Because I already knew it would change everything.
I found Caleb downstairs making coffee.
He looked exhausted. His shirt was wrinkled, his eyes were bloodshot, and he had the desperate expression of a man who had spent the night rehearsing apologies.
"Can we please have one normal morning?" he asked.
I looked at the two coffee mugs on the counter.
For twelve years, he had made mine exactly the way I liked it.
Two sugars. A little cream.
He still remembered.
That was the cruelest part.
He remembered everything about being my husband.
He had simply decided that being my husband didn't require being faithful.
"One more question," I said.
Caleb closed his eyes.
"Please."
"Does Laura know about Sophie?"
His eyes opened.
"Of course she knows I have a daughter."
"That's not what I asked."
He stared at me.
I continued.
"Does she know Sophie's name? Her age? What school she goes to?"
"Why does that matter?"
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Caleb."
He looked away.
And I knew.
"She knows about Sophie," he admitted.
"How much?"
"Just things I've mentioned."
"Like what?"
He rubbed his forehead.
"Her school. Her birthday. Sometimes I'd talk about things Sophie said."
I stood very still.
For months, I had imagined Laura as a stranger who existed somewhere outside our family.
But Laura knew my daughter's name.
She knew her birthday.
She knew where she went to school.
And suddenly I remembered something that made my skin turn cold.
Three weeks earlier, Sophie had come home with a small stuffed rabbit.
A white rabbit with pink ears.
She told me Daddy had brought it home from work.
I had thought it was sweet.
"Who bought Sophie the rabbit?" I asked.
Caleb froze.
It was a tiny movement.
Barely noticeable.
But by then I had become an expert at recognizing the exact moment my husband realized I had found another door.
"Caleb."
He swallowed.
"Laura saw it in a shop."
I gripped the edge of the counter.
"She bought my daughter a present?"
"She gave it to me. I didn't think—"
"No," I interrupted. "You didn't."
He stepped toward me.
"It was just a toy."
I shook my head.
"She didn't just sleep with my husband. She was buying gifts for my child."
"She never met Sophie."
I looked directly at him.
"Are you sure that's the truth, or is that simply the next version you're hoping I'll accept?"
For once, Caleb had no answer.
And I realized something important.
I no longer needed him to confess everything.
I needed to stop giving him opportunities to lie.