Chương 3
“Dad.”
My voice sounded far away even to me.
He stopped, but his face had gone red.
Daniel looked at me.
“It isn’t as simple as it sounds.”
I almost admired him for finding a sentence that useless.
“Did you sleep with Claire while we were together?”
He flinched.
“Yes.”
The chapel changed again.
Not dramatically.
No one screamed.
A cousin coughed near the back.
The air-conditioning clicked on.
Somewhere outside, a truck passed on the road.
I kept looking at Daniel because if I looked anywhere else, I was afraid I would come apart in front of people I barely knew.
“How many times?”
Claire looked away.
Daniel swallowed.
“Once.”
Claire made a small, disbelieving noise.
I turned to her.
“Was it once?”
She wiped beneath one eye with the heel of her hand.
“No.”
Daniel’s head snapped toward her.
“Claire.”
“You told her you’d tell her everything.”
“I was going to.”
“When?”
He didn’t answer.
“After the ceremony?” I asked.
That was when Rachel laughed.
It was a harsh little sound with no humor in it.
“Jesus Christ.”
Susan stood up.
“Can we please stop doing this here?”
Claire looked at her.
“You knew.”
Susan’s face hardened.
“This isn’t helping.”
“You knew about Lily.”
The name struck me harder than daughter had.
Lily.
A child with a name.
A little girl somewhere in the world who had existed every day of my relationship while Daniel chose, every day, not to tell me.
“Her name is Lily?” I asked.
Claire nodded.
“Lillian, technically.”
Daniel finally looked at me.
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“I’ve tried.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
I stared at him.
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“There were times.”
“Name one.”
His mouth opened.
Closed.
I thought of every dinner where he had seemed distracted, every Sunday morning he had checked his phone and told me it was work, every business trip that had ended with him coming home exhausted and affectionate.
I hated myself immediately for searching backward through our life like a detective.
It made every memory feel contaminated.
Claire sat down in the empty chair beside Evelyn.
Her knees seemed unable to hold her.
Evelyn reached for her hand.
That frightened me almost as much as anything else had.
They knew each other well enough to touch without hesitation.
“How long have you known?” I asked Evelyn.
She looked exhausted.
“Since Lily was six months old.”
I turned toward Susan.
“And you?”
Susan’s chin trembled once before she steadied it.
“Since before she was born.”
My mother sat down.
My father’s expression went blank in the way it did when anger got too large for his face.
Rachel stepped between Daniel and me without being asked.
I barely noticed.
“You all knew?” I said.
Susan shook her head.
“Not everyone.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“No, it isn’t.”
Daniel moved toward me.
Rachel blocked him.
“Don’t.”
“Rachel, stay out of this.”
“I have been out of it for five years, apparently.”
“Enough.”
I heard the sharpness in my own voice and everyone went quiet again.
I looked at Claire.
“Where is Lily now?”
“With my sister.”
“Does she know about Daniel?”
Claire’s eyes filled again.
“She knows him as her father.”
My stomach dropped.
I looked at him.
“You see her?”
He didn’t answer quickly enough.
“How often?”
“Emily.”
“How often?”
“Usually twice a month.”
I sat down because suddenly standing seemed optional.
The nearest chair belonged to one of Daniel’s elderly relatives, who immediately got up and offered it without saying anything.
I sank into it in my wedding dress.
The skirt spread around me stupidly, beautifully, taking up too much space.
Two Saturdays a month.
I thought of Daniel leaving early to help his mother.
Working late.
Driving to see a college friend.
Running errands.
A dozen tiny lies began rising from memory, each one ordinary enough that I had never touched it twice.
“What does the custody agreement say?” I asked.
Daniel stared at me.
Claire answered.
“We’ve never been married.”
“I figured that part out.”
She nodded, embarrassed.
“We have a parenting plan.”
“Then why does he have a copy in his pocket at our wedding?”
Claire looked at Daniel.
He looked at Susan.
That movement was small.
It was also the first useful thing anyone had done in several minutes.
I turned to Susan.
“What did you ask him to do?”
Susan’s eyes widened.
“I didn’t.”
“You did something.”
“Emily, this is between you and Daniel.”
“No, it stopped being between us when you helped him hide a child.”
“I did not help him hide Lily.”
“Then why did he look at you?”
Susan glanced toward the guests.
Her face had become pale and shiny.
“I think we should discuss this privately.”
“No.”
“Emily.”
“No.”
I stood again.
My knees shook, but they held.
“You have all had privacy for four years.”
Susan recoiled as if I had slapped her.
Evelyn whispered, “Tell her.”
Susan’s head turned toward her mother.
“Not now.”
“Now is the only time left.”
Daniel stepped in.
“Grandma, stop.”
Evelyn ignored him.
“She thinks you’re carrying that agreement because Claire gave it to you.”
I looked at Daniel.
“What is she talking about?”
His hand returned to his pocket.
Claire stood.
“That’s what I came here to stop.”
There was something new in her face now.
Not grief.
Resolve.
“I found out yesterday what he planned to do.”
Daniel’s voice went low.
“You found paperwork you had no right to read.”
“It was sitting on your mother’s kitchen table.”
Susan closed her eyes.
Claire laughed once.
“Yeah, Susan, I know.”
Rachel whispered, “This keeps getting worse.”
“What paperwork?” I asked.
Claire took a breath.
“Daniel wants primary custody.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“He says I’m unstable.”
Daniel interrupted.
“I never said that.”
“You signed an affidavit saying exactly that.”
May you like
“Because your situation has changed.”
“My situation changed because I lost my job.”
