⸻
“You could have told me you were even looking into it,” I said. “Not the full story. Just that something was happening.”
⸻
“I know,” Weston said. “I think I was also scared of how you’d take it. Not because I did anything wrong exactly, but because it’s still a considerable thing to hand your wife out of nowhere — a nineteen-year-old daughter from before you two ever met.”
⸻
Ivy spoke up quietly from where she stood. “I didn’t know he was married either,” she said. “Not until our second phone call. I understand if this is a lot to process all at once. I never meant to disrupt anyone’s family.”
⸻
I looked at her properly for the first time, working through Weston’s exact jawline visible in her own face, an unmistakable resemblance that made the entire impossible morning suddenly, completely real.
⸻
“You didn’t disrupt anything,” I said, my voice steadier now. “My husband disrupted it by not telling me sooner. That’s not the same thing as you existing.”
