Chapter 2
For several seconds, I honestly thought I had heard him wrong.
I stared at the phone.
Then I looked at Emily.
She was crying now.
Not angry tears.
Not the kind she had cried during our argument.
These were different.
Quiet.
Terrified.
“David,” I said, “what kids?”
Emily covered her mouth.
Her father didn’t answer immediately.
“Emily,” he said gently, “you need to tell him.”
“Dad, please.”
“Tell me what?” I demanded.
She backed away until her hip hit the kitchen counter.
The woman who had been screaming at me five minutes earlier suddenly looked small.
“Ryan…”
“What kids?”
She closed her eyes.
Then she whispered the words that changed everything.
“I’m pregnant.”
My hand nearly dropped the phone.
The kitchen went silent.
Even the refrigerator humming behind me sounded too loud.
I stared at her stomach.
Then back at her face.
“You’re what?”
“Pregnant.”
My heart began pounding.
“How long?”
“Almost eleven weeks.”
I actually laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
Because my brain couldn’t process it.
“Eleven weeks?”
She nodded.
“We’ve been married seven years.”
“I know.”
“We tried for three years.”
“I know.”
“We spent thousands on doctors.”
“I know, Ryan.”
“We were told—”
“I know what we were told!”
Her voice cracked.
She gripped the counter.
My anger came rushing back, but now it was mixed with something so much bigger.
Shock.
Fear.
Joy.
Betrayal.
“How could you not tell me?”
Emily looked away.
I stared at her.
Then another detail hit me.
“Wait.”
I lifted the phone.
“David said kids.”
Emily’s face crumpled.
I stopped breathing.
“Emily.”
She pressed both hands against her eyes.
“It’s twins.”
My knees almost gave out.
Twins.
For years, we had walked past baby stores without going inside.
For years, Emily had thrown away pregnancy tests before I got home.
For years, every baby shower had left her smiling in public and crying in our bedroom afterward.
Twins.
I put my hand on the kitchen table because I suddenly needed something solid beneath me.
“You’re carrying our twins?”
“Yes.”
“And you were going to move out without telling me?”
Her eyes flashed.
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“After you left?”
“No.”
“After they were born?”
“Ryan, stop.”
“No, you stop.”
My voice was shaking.
“You stood here and fought with me for an hour. You packed a bag. You let me call your father. At what point were you planning to mention that my children were leaving with you?”
“They’re not just your children!”
“I know that!”
David’s voice came through the speaker.
“Both of you, calm down.”
Emily turned toward the phone.
“Dad, this is exactly why I didn’t want you involved.”
“Well, I’m involved now,” he said.
I dragged a hand over my face.
My whole body felt hot.
“When did you find out?”
Emily didn’t answer.
“Emily.”
“Nine weeks ago.”
That hit even harder.
“You knew for nine weeks?”
“I found out I was pregnant nine weeks ago. I found out there were two babies three weeks ago.”
I stared at her.
Three weeks.
The exact same time she had called her father.
My throat tightened.
“And your first reaction to finding out we were having twins was to ask your father if you could move in?”
“No.”
“That’s what he just said.”
“That wasn’t my first reaction.”
“Then what was?”
Emily looked at me with so much pain that my next sentence died before I spoke it.
She reached into her purse.
For a moment, I thought she was getting her keys.
Instead she pulled out a folded white envelope.
She placed it on the counter.
“What’s that?”
“Open it.”
I didn’t move.
“Emily.”
“Open it.”
I picked up the envelope.
Inside was an ultrasound picture.
Two tiny shapes.
Two.
At the top was Emily’s name.
At the bottom was the date.
Three weeks earlier.
My vision blurred.
I ran my thumb over the image.
A handwritten note appeared on the back.
Baby A.
Baby B.
I swallowed.
Emily started crying again.
“I sat in that parking lot for almost two hours afterward.”
I looked up.
“I called you six times.”
I reached for my phone instinctively.
“You didn’t answer.”
“I was working.”
“I know.”
“So you decided to leave me?”
“No.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
Her expression hardened.
“I came home.”
I waited.
“And when I walked into the office, your laptop was open.”
Cold moved through my chest.
“What did you see?”
She gave a bitter laugh.
“You know.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Emily, what did you see?”
She stared straight at me.
“Our savings account.”
I said nothing.
Her voice became quieter.
“Thirty-eight thousand dollars was gone.”
I felt my stomach twist.
There it was.
The reason our fight had started tonight.
She had finally confronted me about the money.
And I had refused to tell her where it went.
Not because I was cheating.
Not because I had gambled it.
Not because I had another family.
But because I had made a promise to someone else.
A stupid promise.
A promise that had now exploded inside my marriage.
Emily pointed toward me.
“You told me last month that we needed to postpone fixing the roof because money was tight.”
“I know.”
“You told me we couldn’t afford to replace my car.”
“I know.”
“You told me we should stop ordering takeout.”
“Emily—”
“And then I discovered you secretly transferred thirty-eight thousand dollars out of our joint savings.”
David was silent on the phone.
I could almost feel him listening.
She wiped her cheeks.
“I was holding ultrasound pictures of our twins while staring at a bank account that my husband had emptied without telling me.”
“I didn’t empty it.”
“Don’t play with words.”
“There’s still money—”
“Stop.”
She took a shaky breath.
“I asked you about it that night.”
“You asked if I moved money.”
“And you lied.”
I closed my eyes.
That part was true.
I had lied.
I had told her it was being moved temporarily for a business issue.
It wasn’t.
Not exactly.
“You kept lying,” she continued. “Every time I asked, you changed the subject.”
“I was trying to fix it.”
“Fix what?”
I said nothing.
Emily stared at me.
“See?”
“Emily—”
“No. You don’t get to act betrayed because I kept one secret while you were keeping something this big from me.”
“One secret?”
My voice rose again.
“You hid my children from me.”
“And you made me wonder whether those children would have a home!”
“We have a home!”
“For how long?”
That stopped me.
She walked toward the hallway.
“I found another notice yesterday.”
My chest tightened.
“What notice?”
She disappeared into our bedroom.
David spoke quietly through the phone.
“Ryan, whatever’s happening, tell her the truth.”
I looked down at the ultrasound again.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then help me understand.”
Emily returned holding a stack of mail.
She threw one envelope onto the table.
I knew what it was before I picked it up.
My brother’s name was on it.
Jacob Mercer.
Below his name was mine.
Co-signer.
Past due.
My mouth went dry.
Emily folded her arms.
“I found that in the mailbox.”
I couldn’t speak.
She continued.
“You secretly gave your brother thirty-eight thousand dollars.”
“It wasn’t a gift.”
“Then why is there a delinquent loan with your name attached?”
“It’s complicated.”
She laughed bitterly.
“There it is again.”
“What?”
“Complicated.”
She pointed at me.
“Every time your brother destroys something, it becomes complicated.”
I looked away.
Jacob.
My younger brother.
The person I had spent my entire life protecting.
When we were kids, I protected him from our father.
When we became adults, I protected him from bad jobs, bad relationships, bad loans and worse decisions.
Every time he fell, I ran.
And Emily had begged me for years to stop.
“This isn’t about Jake being irresponsible,” I said.
“Then what is it about?”
I hesitated.
She saw it.
And her face changed.
“Is there a woman?”
“No.”
“Ryan.”
“No.”
“A child?”
My silence lasted one second too long.
Emily went completely still.
David spoke from the phone.
“Ryan?”
I cursed under my breath.
Emily walked toward me slowly.
“There is a child.”
“It’s not what you think.”
Her face drained of color.
“Whose child?”
“I can explain.”
“Whose child?”
My phone buzzed in my hand.
A text appeared across the screen.
I looked at it.
And immediately wished I hadn’t.
Emily saw my face.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Give me the phone.”
“Emily—”
“Give it to me.”
She grabbed it.
I didn’t fight her.
Her eyes moved across the message.
Then stopped.
The text was from Lauren.
Thank you for sending the rest. Noah keeps asking when he can see you again.
Emily looked up slowly.
Her lips parted.
“Who is Lauren?”
I reached for the phone.
She stepped backward.
“And who is Noah?”
“Emily, listen.”
She stared at me with horror.
“Do you have a son?”
“No!”
“Then why is some woman thanking you for money and telling you a boy keeps asking for you?”
“Because—”
Her knees suddenly bent.
She grabbed the edge of the table.
“Emily?”
She winced.
Both hands moved to her stomach.
My anger vanished.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.”
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“Emily?”
Another wave of pain hit her.
This time she cried out.
The phone slipped from her hand and hit the floor.
David’s voice came through the speaker.
“What happened?”
I caught Emily before she fell.
Her face was white.
“Ryan,” she whispered.
“What?”
May you like
Her terrified eyes met mine.
“Something’s wrong with the babies.”
