And suddenly, that was the part I couldn’t get past.
Greg hadn’t just lied to me. He’d taught our six-year-old that keeping Dad’s secrets from Mom was something good sons did.
His jaw tightened. “Everything changed when I found out about Carol. I didn’t know how to tell you.”
Rachel stared at him. “You told me she knew.”
“Is that true?”
“I was going to tell her.”
“When?” I asked. “After this business trip?”
His face changed.
I nodded toward his SUV at the curb. “That’s where you’re supposed to be, Greg. On a business trip.”
“Hannah, I was helping Rachel move. That’s all.”
“For almost three months.”
“That’s all?” I looked at Rachel. “Is that true?”
She hesitated.
“Rachel?”
“No.” She looked at Greg. “He told me you two had been separated for months.”
My stomach dropped. “Are you two together?”
“I was going to tell you.”
Greg stepped forward. “Hannah…”
“I asked her.”
Rachel swallowed. “Yes. For almost three months.”
Greg rubbed a hand over his face. “Can we stop doing this on the porch?”
“No.” I looked straight at him. “You lied to me about where you were. You lied to Rachel about our marriage. And you taught our six-year-old to keep both of those lies for you.”
“She didn’t ask for any of this.”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
He didn’t answer.
“And tomorrow?” I asked. “Were you going to drive home, kiss Leo, unpack your suitcase, and wait until your next business trip to come back here?”
“I didn’t tell you because you couldn’t handle something this complicated,” Greg finally said.
“Think about Leo.”
There was that word again. Complicated.
For eight years, Greg had used it whenever he wanted me to stop asking questions. Leave the complicated stuff to me. And for eight years, I’d let him mistake my silence for ignorance.
I almost laughed. “You kept confusing simple with stupid, Greg.”
Carol was watching us from the hallway.
I stepped back onto the porch. “She didn’t ask for any of this.”
Leo and I started over without him.
Greg followed me outside. “Hannah, please. Let’s talk about this at home.”
“You’ll hear from my lawyer.”
“What about Leo?” Panic finally cracked through his voice. “Think about Leo.”
I turned around. “You should have thought about our son before you taught a six-year-old to hide his other family from his mother.”
I walked to my car without looking back.
I was never stupid.
Six weeks later, Rachel stayed with Greg, while Leo and I started over without him.
My son still pushed that two-dollar pink stroller down our driveway, and every time I saw it, I remembered what Greg had spent eight years getting wrong about me.
Greg thought he’d married a simple country girl who would never figure it out.
I was simple, but I was never stupid.
