“I spent my childhood waiting for someone to tell me the truth about why he never showed up. I’m not spending my marriage waiting for answers you refuse to give.”

Tony said nothing.

Friday couldn’t come quickly enough.

At 6:58 that evening, Tony was pacing around our living room.

He’d barely spoken to me all day.

At exactly seven o’clock, the doorbell rang.

Dakota stood outside holding a folder.

I invited her in and directed her toward the dining table.

Tony sat down reluctantly.

Nobody touched the glasses of water I’d prepared.

I placed Dakota’s note beside the clinic receipts.

Then I looked at her.

“Who is the child?”

Dakota turned toward Tony.

“Tell her.”

He closed his eyes.

“Dakota, please.”

She shook her head.

“You’ve had four years.”

My stomach dropped.

“Four years?”

Tony stared at the table.

Dakota took a breath.

“Jennifer, five years ago, Tony was working on a project out of town.”