“When did you?”
“After Kai and Theo came home.”
I gripped my keys.
“So, while I was recovering and learning how to care for two babies, you were meeting her.”
“I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“That’s different from protecting me.”
“You were overwhelmed.”
“You probably told her I was fragile, huh?”
She looked at the ground.
“He said there was never a good time.”
I faced Daniel.
“You made my recovery your excuse.”
“I was scared you’d leave.”
“So you let me question myself. You blamed the babies and lied about the money.”
I looked at Isla.
“What did he send you?”
“Money for bills after Mom died. I didn’t know it came from your emergency account until I asked for money again, and he told me. I’m sorry. I just… I needed help.”
“I believe you.”
Daniel’s head lifted.
“Helping your daughter wasn’t the betrayal,” I said. “Taking our money and lying about it was.”
Isla wiped her cheek.
“I thought you knew I existed…”
That hurt more than I expected.
“No, honey. I had no clue.”
Daniel had made her believe I had agreed to keep her outside our family.
I stepped back when he reached for me.
“You aren’t coming home tonight.”
“Megan, the boys need me.”
“They need honesty more.”
“I’m their father.”
“And I’m the mother you used every time the truth became inconvenient.”
His hand fell.
“You know where Kai and Theo will be. You can call, but tonight, you’re staying somewhere else.”
For once, Daniel did not decide when I was ready for the truth.
I looked at Isla.
She stood beside her mother’s memorial, holding photographs of children she’d never met.
Daniel had hidden her for 17 years.
Then he’d hidden her again.
Mom opened the door before I knocked.
“What happened?”
I looked at my sleeping sons.
“Daniel has a 17-year-old daughter. She knew their faces and names. I didn’t even know hers.”
The next morning, I called Daniel.
“Come over. Mom will be with the boys.”
He arrived 20 minutes later, still wearing the clothes he’d left in the night before.
I didn’t offer him coffee.
“Start at the beginning.”
Daniel sat across from me.
“Esme and I were 19 when Isla was born. My parents said I was throwing away my future, Megan. They pushed me into signing a custody agreement, giving up contact, and allowing Esme to raise Isla without me.”
“You still knew you had a child.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was ashamed. What right did I have to enter her life after I had agreed to stay away?”
I folded my arms.
