Chapter 2

I saved the screenshot three times.

One on my phone, one in the cloud, and one I sent to my best friend, Sophie Lane.

Sophie replied instantly: [Holy shit. Is he out of his mind?]

I said: [Can you dig up some info on someone for me? Her last name's Reed, and she's in their marketing department.]

Sophie: [What are you up to?]

I replied: [Gotta know who I'm dealing with.]

Sophie sent a bunch of dots, then replied: [Alright, I'll let you know tomorrow.]

I put my phone down and turned off the light.

At three in the morning, my daughter started crying, so I got up to make her a bottle.

The kitchen light was sound-activated, and it flicked on at the slightest noise.

Everything in there was stuff I'd moved back from that house, the bottle sterilizer, the bottle warmer, the formula maker.

All of it was bought by my mom.

David hadn't bought a single thing for our daughter.

Then it hit me, when I was eight months pregnant, I asked him to buy a crib, and he said, "Just wait."

I kept waiting until the fifth day after she was born, and it was my mom who went online and bought it herself.

Now I finally understood.

He'd been too busy being someone else's husband and someone else's father.

Sophie was quick.

The next day at noon, a screenshot popped up on my phone.

[Jessica Reed, 28, joined David's company's marketing department last March. She's single. She had a son last month.]

I asked: [Who's the father?]

Sophie replied: [No idea. She never mentions it on her social media. But...]

Sophie immediately sent me a picture.

It was a screenshot of Jessica's social media post, showing a photo of her recovery meal.

There were two drinks on the table.

One of them was a Starbucks' Frappuccino, which I recognized.

David always has one every day.

I asked: [When did it start?]

Sophie replied: [I asked Linda, your former colleague. She said there were rumors at least since the second half of last year. You were pregnant then, right?]

I had just found out I was pregnant.

Back then, David would work late every night, not getting home until eleven.

Thinking he was working so hard, I'd always leave the light on and keep his dinner warm for him every night.

"One more thing," Sophie said. "I had someone check Jessica's baby's birth date. It was eight days before your daughter's."

Eight days earlier.

That meant she had her baby before I did.

And while I was in the delivery room, struggling through contractions, David had probably already spent time waiting outside another hospital's delivery room.

I put my phone down and went to the bathroom to throw up.

Didn't touch lunch or dinner.

My mom came in with a bowl of soup. When she saw my face, she set it down. "What did you find out?"

"He might have a secret child," I said.

My mom paused, holding the bowl, and said, "Kill him."

I smiled. "That's a bit much."

"Then make him wish he was dead," my mom said.

My mom was a retired accountant. She never wasted words.

At seven that evening, David messaged me again.

David wrote: [I've taken some time off. I'll come pick you and the baby up tomorrow.]

Then came another message from him: [Just bring your stuff back. I'm not going to hold it against you.]

He actually said he "wouldn't hold it against me." Like he's doing me a favor or something.

Apparently, taking my own stuff means he's being generous.

I replied: [Don't bother. My mom says I should stay at her place for my recovery.]

David asked: [How long will that be?]

I replied: [No idea. You focus on your own stuff.]

David replied: [Okay.]

He didn't ask anything else, didn't even say he missed the baby.

Good.

The next day.

I got a friend request.

The note said: [Hi, I'm Jessica.]

I didn't accept it right away.

I stared at the request for thirty seconds.

Then I took a screenshot and saved it to my phone.

At second thirty-one, I finally tapped "Accept."

Jessica's first message was: [Hi, Mrs. Turner, I'm David's colleague.]

She called me Mrs. Turner.

She actually called me Mrs. Turner. Was she just being polite, or was there something else behind it?

I replied: [Hi.]

She sent a smiley face, then wrote: [David had come to visit my baby, and I posted about it online. Sorry if that caused a misunderstanding, Mrs. Turner.]

Stopped by to see her baby.

Made me misunderstand.

Sorry about that.

Every word was pushing my buttons.