Chapter 1

I was about to tell my husband we were finally getting a daughter when I discovered he had already been a father for 846 days.

The white envelope sat beside our anniversary dinner.

Inside was the news Daniel and I had waited two years to hear.

We were approved for Lily.

I planned to give it to Daniel during dinner.

I had imagined this moment so many times.

Daniel would come home after work. I would place the envelope in front of him. He would open it, look at me, and we would finally talk about the little girl who would become part of our family.

For two years, we had filled out paperwork, attended interviews, and answered questions about what kind of parents we wanted to be.

Now we’re going to have a daughter.

But at 7:12 p.m., Daniel called.

"I’m sorry, Emily. My flight was delayed. I’m stuck out of state tonight."

I looked at the empty chair across from me.

The one where he was supposed to sit.

"Tonight is our anniversary."

"I know." His voice softened. "I’ll make it up to you. I promise."

He sounded tired.

I believed him.

After the call ended, I noticed his tablet on the couch.

Daniel used it for travel arrangements, so I picked it up to check his flight information.

I never expected a delivery notification to appear before I opened the airline app.

The order had arrived twenty minutes earlier.

Children’s fever medicine.

I frowned.

The delivery address was the lake house.

My lake house.

My mother had left it to me before she died.

After Sophie’s divorce, she told me she had nowhere else to go.

I gave her the keys.

I told her she could stay as long as she needed.

So when I saw the address, my first thought was simple.

Maybe Sophie needed help.

Maybe her family was visiting.

Then I opened the order details.

The fever medicine was only one item.

There were diapers.

Baby formula.

Children’s shampoo.

A safety gate.

And a pack of men’s razors.

Daniel’s brand.

I stared at the screen.

A few items could be a coincidence.

But then I opened the purchase history.

The deliveries continued.

Month after month.

For two years.

Baby food.

Toddler clothes.

Men’s shirts in Daniel’s size.

The coffee he drank every morning.

The things inside that list were not random gifts.

They were the supplies of a home.

A home where someone lived.

A home where a child grew up.

My fingers tightened around the tablet.

Two years.

For two years, Daniel had been preparing a life somewhere else while I was preparing to become a mother with him.

I remembered all the nights he had called me from hotels.

He always sounded exhausted.

I had told him not to worry about me.

I had reheated dinner and eaten alone.

Sometimes I had even sent him messages reminding him to take his stomach medicine.

I opened my phone and photographed every order.

I needed proof before Daniel had the chance to explain it away.

Then I found the flowers.

One order every month.

Sophie’s favorite white roses.

I had bought them for her birthday after her divorce.

I remembered telling Daniel she deserved kindness.

I remembered driving to the lake house with soup when she was sick.

I remembered changing her sheets while she rested.

Daniel had come with me.

Back then, I thought my husband was helping me take care of my best friend.

Now I wondered if he had been taking care of his own family.

At the bottom of the payment history, I found a charge from a women’s clinic.

An early pregnancy appointment.

Paid with Daniel’s card.

I counted the days.

846.

For 846 days, Daniel had been a father.

For 846 days, he had watched me go through fertility treatments.

He had held me after every failed attempt.

He had sat beside me during adoption interviews.

He had told me he wanted a child with me.

But while I was waiting for the chance to become a mother,he already had a child.

Just not with me.

The tablet suddenly lit up.

A message appeared.

From Sophie.

He keeps crying. When are you coming back?

Before I could touch the screen, Daniel replied.

Tell my son Daddy will be home soon.

My son.

I read those three words again.

Then I looked at the white envelope beside the dinner table.

Lily’s name was still written inside.

Tonight, I was going to tell my husband we were finally becoming parents.

Instead, I found out he had been one for 846 days.

I closed the tablet.

Tomorrow, Daniel would come home expecting an apology, an explanation, maybe even forgiveness.

But before he walked through that door, I needed to know one thing.

Who was the child living in my house?