I laughed nervously, trying to keep my voice calm. “When did you go there?”
“When you were on the airplane for your work thingy. Daddy said it’s a secret house.”
I’d flown out to Austin for a three-day tech conference to present our newest software to potential investors. Jake, my husband, had insisted on staying home with Tim. “Don’t worry about a thing,” he’d said. “I got this.”
I hadn’t worried—until now.
The Secret House
Back in the car, I tried to keep driving like everything was fine. But my hands were shaking on the wheel.
“What do you mean, secret house?” I asked again.
Tim leaned forward in his car seat like he was letting me in on a big secret. “Daddy said not to tell you. He said it’s just for fun times. There were balloons everywhere and the biggest TV ever! It covered the whole wall!”
I didn’t say anything else the rest of the ride. My throat was tight, my mind a mess. Jake had never given me a reason not to trust him. We weren’t perfect, but we were solid. Or so I thought.
Now, I couldn’t shake the images: children I’d never met calling my husband “Dad.” A mysterious house. Balloons and couches and TVs. A lie.
Continue reading…
