Rebecca advised against dramatic lock changes or unilateral moves.
Lauren and I arranged a temporary schedule around the children.
I stayed at the house when they were with me.
She stayed when they were with her.
When the other parent had the children, we stayed elsewhere.
It was awkward.
Expensive.
Temporary.
But it prevented Sophie and Caleb from being dragged between homes immediately while lawyers and therapists helped us decide what came next.
Rachel and I spoke again Sunday.
She had learned more too.
Jason admitted the affair after she showed him the photographs.
“Did he say why?”
I asked.
Rachel laughed bitterly.
“He said our marriage had become empty.”
I closed my eyes.
“Lauren said something similar.”
“Maybe they practiced.”
“Maybe.”
Rachel became quiet.
Then said:
“He told me he loves her.”
My chest tightened despite everything.
“What did Lauren tell you?”
“I asked her.”
“And?”
“She said she doesn’t know.”
Rachel gave a humorless laugh.
“Jason is devastated.”
I almost said good.
I didn’t.
Rachel had two children listening somewhere too.
“How are your kids?”
“Confused.”
“Mine too.”
“Jason admitted Lauren met them.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“How often?”
“Three times.”
That matched the photographs.
“He told them she was a friend.”
Rachel paused.
“Ethan, I need to tell you something else.”
I waited.
“Last summer, Jason took our daughter Mia to a work picnic.”
“There was no picnic.”
“Lauren was there.”
I closed my eyes.
“Our daughter told me about Sophie.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“What?”
“Mia said she met a girl named Sophie whose mother worked with Dad.”
Rachel’s voice broke.
“They introduced our children to each other.”
That was worse than I had understood.
Two families.
Two sets of children.
Two cheating spouses constructing harmless explanations around them.
“Did the kids know?”
“No.”
“Of course not.”
They were children.
Adults had created the lie.
Rachel continued.
“I’m getting Mia and Luke a therapist.”
“So am I.”
That became the first useful thing we agreed on.
We spoke only when necessary after that.
We did not become friends.
There was too much danger in that.
Two betrayed spouses can create intimacy quickly because nobody else understands the exact shape of the injury.
Rebecca warned me about it gently.
“Rachel may be the only person who understands what happened from the same angle.”
“Yes.”
“That does not mean she should become your emotional partner while both divorces are active.”
I understood.
So Rachel and I kept communication factual.
Evidence.
Dates.
Anything involving the children.
Nothing else.
The next major confrontation with Lauren happened six days later.
We sat at our dining table after the children had gone to bed upstairs.
The table had been a tenth-anniversary purchase.
We had spent two Saturdays choosing it.
Now Rebecca’s preliminary separation paperwork sat on top.
Lauren touched the first page.
“You already hired a lawyer.”
“Yes.”
“So there’s no chance.”
“I didn’t say that.”
She looked up quickly.
I hated giving her hope.
But I wanted to be honest.
“I said I’m not making the final legal decision in the first week.”
“What would it take?”
I stared at her.
“I don’t know.”