Chapter 3

I took Leo to a quiet park near his school, pulling my car under the shade of an oak tree.

I turned off the engine and looked at Leo in the passenger seat.

"Leo..." I whispered gently.

The moment he heard my soft voice, Leo pressed his lips together, his chest hitching.

"Mommy," he said, wiping his face too hard with his jacket sleeve. "I just—I thought you knew."

"What did you think I knew, sweetie?"

"Dad said you knew Aunt Bridget came over!" Leo said, his breath catching in ragged gaps between words.

I watched my son struggle in agony, utterly confused.

“What’s wrong, baby? What happened?” I asked softly.

Leo only glanced out the car window, sobbing.

"Did you ever see them kiss, Leo?" I asked gently.

Even as the question left my lips, my nose stung with sorrow.

"Dad said it was work, and that grown-ups hug their friends when they have hard days. And then... then Dad showed me a video of the rover kit, and I—I forgot what I was asking."

I could barely believe what my son said in that moment.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, I stared out the window at the scenery, and tears finally spilled down my cheeks.

Leo looked down at his sneakers, his hands balled into tight fists in his lap.

"I thought you knew, Mommy. Dad said we were helping you." He pressed both fists against his eyes, refusing to let the tears spill.

"I—I thought... I thought if you found out Dad was kissing Aunt Bridget, you'd leave..." Leo wept, his little voice shaking so violently he could barely piece the words together.

Then Leo buried his face so deep into my neck I could feel the desperate, frantic beating of his heart against my ribs.

The truth hit me so hard I couldn't breathe.

Eleven.

He was supposed to have a childhood filled with bright, simple sunlight.

Instead, his father had taught him to hide a woman's shoes from his own mother.

My innocent little boy had looked at the father he idolized, seen something no child should have seen.

As I looked at my eleven-year-old boy, a profound, crushing sorrow washed over me.

Sullivan had made our son feel responsible for his lies.

"Oh, baby," I whispered, pulling him against my chest.

"Did I lie to you, Mom?" Leo asked quietly against my shoulder.

"No, Leo. You didn't lie," I said firmly, holding his face so he had to look at me. "Your father lied to both of us. You don't have to protect anyone anymore."

I held him until his small shoulders relaxed.

Then I called my sister Sarah, arranging for Leo to stay at her house for the night.

"Don't open the door for Sullivan," I told Sarah quietly. "And don't let Leo leave with anyone but me."

Then I created a new group chat and added Sullivan and Bridget.

I typed one line:

[Leo told me everything. He doesn't have to protect either of you anymore.]

I hit send.

A few minutes later, three little red dots appeared under Sullivan's name in the group chat.

Then three little red dots appeared beside Bridget's name.

My phone began to ring.