One showed Rachel standing beside him on a stone terrace. Another captured her laughing while he leaned close to say something. A third showed them sitting shoulder to shoulder on a bench, with a wide lawn extending behind them.
Mom reached toward the first photograph, then stopped.
Nobody said a word.
Rachel lowered her eyes while Michael flipped the photographs over as if their blank backs could somehow provide an explanation.
“I took Rachel there because I was looking for a gift for Sadie,” he said. “I thought she might like the place. A family home.”
He looked at me expectantly.
His explanation sounded polished, almost rehearsed, but I didn’t question him.
Not there.
Not with our parents and half the family watching.
I placed my hand on Michael’s arm.
“I TRUST MY HUSBAND. THOSE PICTURES DON’T PROVE ANYTHING, AND THE KISS WAS A PRANK.”
His shoulders loosened.
Rachel raised her head, relief replacing the embarrassment on her face.
Then I turned toward Tom. “If you have questions about your relationship with Rachel, maybe we should take it outside.”
I intentionally stressed the final words.
Tom held my gaze. For a moment, I couldn’t tell whether he understood what I was trying to communicate.
Then something changed in his expression, and he nodded.
“Yeah, talk some sense into him!” Michael called after us.
Tom and I walked toward the back door. Behind us, the family’s silence quickly turned into whispers.
I kept my face composed until we were out of everyone’s sight, even as my thoughts raced.
Had Tom understood why I had defended Michael, or had I only made the situation worse?
