Chương 8
"Emily."
His face tightened.
"She shouldn't have access to that."
"That is not what matters."
I pointed to the email line.
"Your account."
Mark stared at the page.
For several seconds, he did not move.
Then he sat down.
"I didn't do this."
I hated how quickly the words came out.
Not because I thought he was lying.
Because I had heard them too many times.
Everyone says the same thing when they are standing next to a disaster.
"I need more than that."
He rubbed his hands together.
"I swear to you."
"Mark."
He stopped.
"This is not about what you swear."
I sat across from him.
"This is about what happened."
He looked at the papers again.
"I don't know."
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because somehow those words had become his shield.
"I don't know" had followed him into every corner of this mess.
"You have to stop saying that."
His eyes lifted.
"What?"
"You have to stop acting like things happen around you."
The words came out harder than I intended.
"You made choices."
He looked down.
"I know."
"No."
I leaned forward.
"You don't."
He stayed quiet.
"Because if you knew, you would understand why everyone around you feels like they are drowning while you stand there trying to figure out how deep the water is."
His face changed.
That landed.
Good.
Maybe he needed to feel the damage instead of just fearing the consequences.
After a moment, he spoke.
"I used my email account to contact the bakery."
"Why?"
"I was trying to order something."
"What?"
He hesitated.
"A second cake."
I stared at him.
"A second cake?"
He nodded.
"The blue one."
The answer confused me.
"Why?"
"Because I knew the original result."
My stomach tightened.
"You knew?"
Mark closed his eyes.
"I opened the doctor's envelope."
"Then why did you tell Lauren you hadn't?"
"I didn't know how to tell her."
"That the baby was a boy?"
"No."
His voice cracked.
"That I might have another son."
I sat back.
The anger shifted.
Not disappeared.
Shifted.
"Explain."
Mark looked toward the window.
"I opened the envelope the night before the reveal."
He swallowed.
"I saw the result."
"The baby is a boy?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
"Then why did you let everyone believe it was a girl?"
"Because I was going to tell Lauren after the party."
I stared at him.
"After the party?"
"I thought I could fix everything before then."
There it was again.
The belief that a painful truth became easier if you waited.
"The bakery cake was supposed to be blue."
Mark nodded.
"I ordered it."
"Then what happened?"
He looked at the papers.
"Someone changed it."
"Rachel?"
"I don't know."
I gave him a look.
He corrected himself.
"I think so."
"Why?"
He shook his head.
"Because she knew."
"Knew what?"
"About Karen."
The room became quiet.
I had expected many answers.
That was not one of them.
"How does Rachel know about Karen?"
Mark looked miserable.
"Because I told her."
I stood up.
"You told your coworker about this?"
"I needed someone to talk to."
"Someone who had feelings for you?"
"I know how it sounds."
"It sounds exactly like what happened."
He nodded.
"I know."
For the first time, I believed he actually did.
Not because he said it.
Because he stopped trying to defend himself.
"Rachel told me I was making a mistake."
"What kind of mistake?"
"She said I was ruining my marriage by chasing a child from my past."
I shook my head.
"And you listened to her?"
"No."
"Then why involve her?"
"I don't know."
I closed my eyes briefly.
There it was again.
But this time, it sounded less like an excuse.
It sounded like shame.
"I was scared," he said.
"I had just found out I might have a fourteen-year-old son."
He looked at me.
"I had a baby on the way."
"I thought I was about to lose everything."
I wanted to tell him that he had almost done exactly that.
But I waited.
Because something about his face had changed.
He was not asking for forgiveness.
He was admitting something.
"I told Rachel because she already knew some of our situation."
He looked away.
"That was wrong."
"Yes."
"I know."
"Stop saying that."
He nodded.
"Okay."
The simple response surprised me.
He did not argue.
He did not explain.
He just accepted it.
"Did Rachel change the cake?"
"I don't know."
I looked at him.
He sighed.
"I don't know for certain."
"Better."
He nodded.
"But I think she did."
"Why?"
"Because after I told her about Karen, she said something strange."
"What?"
"She said, 'You don't get to build a perfect family by pretending the first one never happened.'"
I felt a chill.
"That sounds like someone who is angry."
"Yes."
"Angry because she loves you?"
Mark looked down.
"I don't know."
Again.
But this time, he looked ashamed before I could react.
"I don't think she ever loved me."
The statement surprised me.
"What do you mean?"
"I think she loved the version of me she imagined."
He leaned back.
"The person who needed saving."
That was the first time he spoke about Rachel with clarity.
Not as a villain.
Not as a victim.
Just as another person caught in a mess of emotions and bad decisions.
"Where is she now?"
"I don't know."
I looked at him.
He almost smiled sadly.
"I realize how much you hate that answer."
"I do."
"Me too."
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I heard footsteps on the stairs.
Lauren.
She stood there holding the railing.
Her face told me she had heard enough.
I immediately felt guilty.
Not because I had talked to Mark.
Because she deserved to hear it from him.
Mark stood.
"Lauren."
She looked at him.
"How long were you going to wait?"
He froze.
"The baby?"
"No."
Her voice was quiet.
"The truth."
May you like
Mark opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
