I wondered who would call first.
I wondered what explanation they would try.
I wondered whether Marcus would be angry that I had left or frightened that I had seen too much.
But beneath all of those questions was another one.
The money.
The missing amounts from our joint account had bothered me long before I knew anything about Marcus and Diane.
Finding them together did not explain those eight months.
It was tempting to make everything fit into one simple betrayal.
My husband was having an affair with my sister.
Therefore the strange spending must somehow belong to that affair too.
But Patricia had taught me not to force facts into the first explanation that made emotional sense.
The guest room told me what Marcus and Diane had done that night.
It did not automatically tell me what had been happening for eight months.
By 9:07 that morning, Patricia had already filed.
I looked at the time because numbers were easier to hold onto than feelings.
6:14 a.m., I had pulled into my driveway.
A little before sunrise, I had carried Noah off the kitchen floor.
Not long after that, I had found Marcus and Diane.
And by 9:07, the first legal steps were already underway.
I still had not spoken to my husband.
I still had not spoken to my sister.
Part of me expected Patricia’s next call to be procedural.
A confirmation.
