My husband’s accident seemed minor, so I expected a quick hospital visit. Then I noticed something among his belongings that didn’t make sense. The truth began to surface.

He lowered himself into a chair.

“It’s complicated.”

“How often do you see Mia?”

“How often?”

“Sometimes.”

“Once a month?”

He hesitated.

“Maybe twice.”

I watched his face.

Seven years with someone teaches you things no shared password could.

“Once a month?”

I knew when Ethan was leaving out the part he hoped I wouldn’t ask about.

“I want Lauren’s number.”

His head lifted.

“Why?”

“Because I want to hear the truth without you standing in the middle of it.”

“Don’t drag Lauren into our marriage.”

“I want Lauren’s number.”

I stared at him.

“Her daughter’s drawing was in your pocket. I think she’s already involved.”

He looked down.

“Give me the number.”

“Annika, I can explain.”

“You already told me you see her twice a month. I don’t believe you’ll give me the full story, Ethan.”

“Give me the number.”

His face changed.

“Give me the number.”

This time, he did.

***

Lauren agreed to meet me that afternoon.

I left the twins with my neighbor again. Usually, I would’ve given her every feeding time. This time, I stopped after showing her the formula.

His face changed.

“Call if you need me.”

“I’ve got them, Annika.”

A week earlier, that would’ve made me nervous.

***

Lauren was already sitting at a corner table, looking almost as nervous as I felt.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I need facts.”

“I’ve got them, Annika.”

“When did Ethan find out?”

“I called him about 18 months ago.”

“Did he know before?”

“No. I was okay raising Mia on my own. Things got harder when she started asking questions about her dad.”

I believed her.

“How often does he see Mia?”

“When did Ethan find out?”