At first, I convinced myself I had misunderstood. Maybe the conversation was ancient. Maybe the child wasn’t his. But the more I read, the clearer it became. The messages were recent, describing everyday moments and upcoming plans. The photos told the rest of the story: Nick smiling beside a woman I’d never seen, holding a little girl who had his unmistakable eyes.
I felt my hands shaking. One message read, “Lea can’t stop asking when Daddy’s coming home.” Another reminded him, “Don’t forget her cake—her 5th birthday is tomorrow.”
Living Beside a Stranger
Nick lived barely fifteen minutes from me. We talked nearly every day. Our mother raised us to be inseparable, to always be honest with each other. Yet here I was, learning that my closest person had been living a double life right under my nose.Continue reading…
