She nodded.
“How long before that?”
“Maybe four months emotionally.”
I looked away.
Twenty-seven months.
Exactly what Rachel’s messages suggested.
“You were already involved before our ninth anniversary.”
“Yes.”
“And you took the children with you to see him.”
Lauren started crying.
“That was not supposed to happen.”
“What?”
“My mom canceled.”
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
“She really was supposed to take the kids.”
“So Elaine wasn’t sick.”
“No.”
“You told me she was.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t Natalie keep them?”
“Because I didn’t want her asking why I was changing the plan.”
Each answer made the lie more deliberate.
Lauren continued.
“Jason and I already had the reservation.”
“A resort?”
“It wasn’t overnight.”
“Rachel says it was outside Fredericksburg.”
“It was a vineyard property.”
“With our children.”
“They were with us for a few hours.”
I stared at her.
“You took our children on a date with the man you were cheating with.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be a date after they came.”
“What did you tell them?”
“That Jason was from work.”
“Did you tell them not to tell me?”
Silence.
That answer terrified me more than almost anything else.
“Lauren.”
She wiped her face.
“I told Sophie you might feel weird because you didn’t know Jason well.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
“What exact words?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Yes, you do.”
She looked away.
“I said Daddy worries too much about people from work, so don’t make a big thing out of it.”
I had to step back.
That was the line.
Not the affair.
Not even the children meeting Jason.
She had made our daughter responsible for managing my access to the truth.
“You used Sophie to keep a secret.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t say ‘keep it secret.’”
“You told a five-year-old not to mention something because it would upset her father.”
Lauren covered her face.
“I know.”
“That is using her.”
“I know.”
For the first time, she said it without defending herself.
I took a breath.
“Do you love Jason?”
She lowered her hands.
“I don’t know.”
“That answer worked better before I saw two years of photographs.”
She closed her eyes.
“I thought I did.”
“Thought?”
“Last night changed things.”
I almost laughed.
“Because he got caught?”
“Because I saw him leave.”
I stared at her.
“He left me standing there.”
“He has a wife and children.”
“I know.”
“So what were you expecting?”
“I don’t know.”
That phrase again.
Lauren had spent years making decisions while pretending uncertainty excused them.
I looked toward Natalie’s house.
“You can see the kids.”
She nodded.
“Thank you.”
“Do not talk to them about Jason.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not tell them this is my fault.”
“I would never.”
I looked at her.
Lauren understood.
“I won’t.”
She went inside.
I drove away.
For the first time in eleven years, I had no idea where home was.
I checked into a furnished apartment for a week.
The house belonged to both of us.