Chapter 3
I spent the first half of the morning waiting to feel something clear.
Anger. Grief. Relief that I knew.
Instead, every feeling arrived at once.
Tasha sat with me at the kitchen table while I called Daniel.
“Ryan told me about the test,” I said.
“I was going to call.”
“Is she pregnant?”
“She sent me a picture of the result. I haven’t seen her.”
“She says the baby is yours.”
“I know what she says.”
“Do you believe her?”
“I don’t know. There’s no way to know yet.”
It was the first careful answer he had given me. I hated that it came after months of lies.
“Where are you staying?” I asked.
“At a hotel.”
“You can collect clothes this afternoon. Tasha will be here.”
“Claire, can I see you?”
“You will. I’m not ready to be alone with you.”
He accepted that.
After the call, I went to work. I managed a small bookstore my mother left me. I could have taken the day off, but I needed to unlock a door and know what would happen when I turned the key.
My employee, Jules, saw my face.
“You can go home,” she said.
“I want to stay.”
“Then I’ll handle the customers. You can sort the new books.”
I spent an hour putting titles in order. My hands worked while my mind returned to the night six weeks earlier.
Daniel had kissed my hair as I slept on the sofa.
Or I had dreamed he did.
I no longer trusted my memory of ordinary tenderness.
At noon, Lena came in.
“I didn’t sleep,” she said.
“This isn’t your fault.”
“I heard Megan threaten to tell you, and I thought it was about some argument. I should have asked her to leave the table.”
“You came outside and told me the truth.”
Lena leaned against the counter.
“Megan’s saying you embarrassed her in front of everyone and forced Daniel to confess there.”
“She climbed onto his lap.”
“I know. I was sitting beside them.”
I tried to smile. I couldn’t.
“Some people will believe her,” I said.
“Some may. They weren’t the ones standing there.”
I thanked her.
Daniel arrived at three. Tasha came from the back room and stood beside me while he entered.
He looked as though he had aged in one night.
“I packed your clothes,” I said. “They’re by the door.”
He glanced toward the stairs.
“Our wedding picture is still up.”
“I haven’t decided what to do with it.”
“I wasn’t asking you to take it down.”
“I know.”
He lifted his bag.
“I want to answer anything you ask,” he said.
“Did you tell Megan about our fertility appointments?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell her what the doctor said?”
“Only that the last cycle didn’t work.”
“That was mine to share too.”
“I know.”
“Did you go to her because we were struggling?”
“I went to her because I made a selfish choice.”
He did not blame my grief. It would have been easier to hate him if he had.
“How long had you been talking privately?” I asked.
“A few months.”
“About us?”
“Sometimes.”
“What did she say about me?”
He looked at Tasha, then at me.
“She said you shut me out when you were hurting.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“I said I felt helpless.”
I held onto the edge of the counter.
“When I needed my best friend, she was telling my husband I didn’t understand him.”
“Yes.”
I was done for that afternoon.
“You should go.”
Daniel nodded and carried the bag outside.
I thought the conversation was over. Then I noticed an envelope on the counter.
It contained copies of the messages between him and Megan. He had printed them.
On top he had written: You deserve the truth. I won’t ask you to read this today.
I put the envelope in my desk drawer.
That evening, Ryan came by the bookstore just before closing. He kept his distance.
“I found out Megan told me she had an overnight photo job the night she was with Daniel,” he said. “I wanted you to know in case she tells you anything different.”
“Thank you.”
He looked around at my mother’s shelves.
“Megan and I are separating,” he said.
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I know. I just didn’t want you hearing it from someone at Lena’s table.”
May you like
After he left, I opened the envelope.
Near the end of the messages, three days before the dinner, Megan had written: If Claire loses you, she’ll finally see what it feels like when someone chooses me.
