Chapter 2
But it was way too late.
My phone started buzzing.
One message. Two. Ten. Fifty.
They flooded in from colleagues, friends, even my mom.
[Delilah, you okay?]
[Director, anything I can do?]
[Honey, what the hell just happened?!]
I didn't answer a single one.
I just sat there on the couch, staring at the blank screen.
Those words kept looping in my head.
"Henry, you promised you'd come with me to the prenatal checkup today."
Prenatal checkup.
Seven months pregnant.
Which meant it happened last October.
Last October, the three of us—our little family—had been on vacation in Hawass.
Henry said something urgent came up at work and he had to fly home two days early.
What had he really been doing those two days?
I closed my eyes.
Ten years of marriage.
Three million dollars poured into this life.
And this was what I got for it.
Henry didn't walk in until eight that night.
I was still in the living room, a glass of water untouched on the coffee table. It had gone cold hours ago.
I'd been sitting there for four hours.
"Delilah..." His voice was rough, thick with exhaustion and the kind of guilt you can feel across a room. "I know you're furious. But it's not what you think. It really isn't..."
"How far along is she?" I cut him off.
"What?"
"The baby. How many months?"
"Seven… seven months."
"So she got pregnant last October."
He hesitated, then admitted, "Yeah."
"Last October, when you told me work blew up and you had to leave Hawass early."
He went quiet.
"And before that?" I pressed.
"Delilah—" Henry started.
"Before that, Henry. How long?"
I stared at him. He couldn't meet my eyes.
"About a year… maybe a little more," he muttered.
"How long?"
"Three years."
Three years.
Ten years married, and for three of them he'd been keeping another woman on the side.
"What's her name?" I asked.
"Delilah, that doesn't matter—" Henry tried to dodge the question.
"Her name."
"Madeline Sterling."
"What does she do?"
"She was the receptionist at the office."
Receptionist?
It clicked.
Three years ago at the company holiday party, a young woman in a backless dress had come around with champagne.
I'd told her she looked gorgeous.
Henry had chuckled and said, "New receptionist. Still learning the ropes."
So that was when it started.
"You bought her the condo?" I asked.
"Yes," Henry admitted.
"Titled in her name?"
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Four hundred thousand."
"And the car?"
His face went even paler.
"Hers too."
"How much?"
"One hundred seventeen thousand."
Four hundred thousand for the condo. One hundred seventeen thousand for the car.
Plus three years of living expenses, shopping, trips, designer bags, jewelry…
I was in finance. I knew how to run the numbers.
"Total?" I asked.
"Delilah, please…" Henry said, his voice trembling.
"Give me the number."
"Roughly… six hundred thousand."
Six hundred thousand. That was what he'd spent on her over three years.
And me?
I suddenly remembered my birthday last year.
I'd pointed out a bag I'd been eyeing for ages. Ten thousand dollars. I'd hinted.
He'd sighed and said, "Money's tight right now. Can we wait?"
I'd smiled and said sure. Never brought it up again.
Now I knew. Ten grand would've bought Madeline two of them without him batting an eye.
"Delilah, I screwed up. I know I did," he said, stepping closer and reaching for my hand. "I ended things with her. Today was a complete fluke. I was going to tell you everything and—"
"Ended things?" I pulled my hand away. "She's seven months pregnant and you're telling me it's over?"
He froze.