Chapter 3
"The glasses aren't over there. They're in the second cabinet to the right of the sink."
Maya's words made me stop.
She had come over for dinner on Saturday night.
I was about to get her a glass, but she had already walked into the kitchen and opened the cabinet like she knew exactly where to look.
"Sorry." She smiled. "Ethan told me to help myself to some water last time. I remembered."
I looked at Ethan.
He was cutting the steak, looking completely at ease.
"She's been here before?"
"A few times," he said. "When you weren't home."
"How come I didn't know?"
Ethan looked up at me.
"Was I supposed to tell you every time?"
Noah was sitting at the table, so I didn't ask anything else.
During dinner, Ethan poured himself some coffee.
Maya caught the aroma.
"You finally got rid of those Colombian beans?"
"Weren't you always complaining it was too acidic?"
Ethan smiled and held the coffee out for her to smell.
"How about this one?"
"Much better."
My hand paused around my fork.
Two weeks ago, I had asked Ethan why he had suddenly switched coffee beans. He'd only said he wanted to try something new.
Sophie had clearly heard them too.
She glanced at her father, then lowered her eyes and went back to eating.
When dinner was over, I got up to clear the plates.
Maya followed me into the kitchen.
"Let me help."
"It's fine. Go sit down."
But she had already opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a fresh trash bag without hesitation.
This time, I said nothing.
She hadn't just been here before.
She knew her way around.
At nine that night, Maya was getting ready to leave when she suddenly grabbed the edge of the table.
"What's wrong?" Ethan immediately stood up.
"Nothing. I probably spent too much time on my feet today."
She pressed a hand to her lower back, her face a little pale.
Ethan frowned.
"Don't drive tonight."
"I can get a ride."
"You were just at the hospital last night."
He turned to me.
"Let her stay in the guest room."
Before I could answer, Maya shook her head.
"No. I don't want to impose."
"It's only one night," Ethan said.
In the end, I nodded.
"Okay."
Maya quietly thanked me.
I went upstairs to get her some clean towels.
But the moment I walked into the guest room, I froze.
There was a gray pregnancy pillow beside the bed.
In the bathroom were an unopened toothbrush, body lotion for pregnant women, and shampoo.
The mini-fridge was even stocked with Maya's favorite brand of ginger ale.
When Ethan appeared in the doorway, I was holding one of the bottles.
"What is all this?"
He glanced at it.
"I got it."
"When?"
"A while ago."
"Why do we have all this stuff in our guest room?"
Ethan frowned.
"She's pregnant. Sometimes she gets tired when she comes over. I just thought I'd keep a few things here in case she needed them."
"Including a pregnancy pillow and toiletries?"
"Claire."
That familiar note of impatience crept into his voice.
"I'm just being considerate of a friend."
Maya's voice came from downstairs.
"Ethan?"
He turned almost immediately.
"What is it?"
"Can you grab my bag for me?"
"Coming."
He left.
I stood there in the guest room and didn't follow him.
Yesterday, I had thought what really bothered me was that he remembered every one of Maya's prenatal appointments but forgot Noah's Reading Day.
Now I realized that was only a small part of what I hadn't seen.
Without my knowing, Maya had been inside my home many times.
Enough times to know where we kept the glasses.
Enough times to know why Ethan had switched coffee.
Enough times that she already had her own pillow, drinks, and toiletries here.
And I was the last one to know.