His complexion drained of color.
“Answer it,” I said softly.
He didn’t.
The ringing continued.
Vanessa glanced at his screen.
Her eyebrows pulled together.
“Why is Langford HR calling you?”
Daniel silenced the phone.
“Probably paperwork.”
The phone rang again.
Vanessa stepped farther away from him.
Then she looked directly at me.
“You said he left four months ago?”
“Yes.”
Her voice became almost inaudible.
“Daniel told me his wife left him two years ago.”
Silence.
Even the refrigerator humming in the kitchen suddenly seemed loud.
Daniel froze.
Vanessa stared at him.
“You told me she moved to California.”
Daniel lifted both hands.
“Vanessa, I can explain.”
“You said you were divorced.”
“It’s complicated.”
“No.” She shook her head. “You said divorced.”
“Helen and I were basically separated.”
I laughed then.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the alternative was screaming.
“Basically separated?”
Daniel looked at me with irritation, as if I were ruining a presentation.
“You know we had problems.”
“Daniel, four months ago we were choosing names for our children.”
Vanessa’s eyes moved toward the strollers.
“Those babies are his?”
I looked at her.
“Yes.”
Daniel answered at the same time.
“It’s complicated.”
Vanessa spun toward him.
“What exactly is complicated about whether three babies are yours?”
“They’re mine.”
Her mouth opened.
Then closed.
“How old are they?”
“Seven weeks,” I said.
Vanessa covered her mouth.
For the first time, I realized something important.
She hadn’t known.
At least not everything.
That didn’t make her innocent.
But it made Daniel something far worse than the man I had spent four months imagining.
He hadn’t simply created one lie.
He had constructed separate realities.
One for me.
One for Vanessa.
One for his company.
And perhaps others I hadn’t discovered yet.
His phone rang a third time.
This time, Vanessa reached for it.
Daniel pulled away.
“Don’t.”
“Give me the phone.”
“This has nothing to do with you.”
“Apparently everything has something to do with me.”
“Vanessa.”
“Give it to me.”
She grabbed for his wrist.
Daniel jerked back.
The movement startled one of the babies.
A small cry came from the stroller.
Every argument stopped.
I immediately bent down.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
I lifted Lily carefully against my chest.
Her tiny face wrinkled beneath her pink hat.
Daniel stared.
Seven weeks old, and this was the first time he had seen his daughter in person.
Something flickered across his face.
Shock.
Perhaps guilt.
Perhaps calculation.
I couldn’t tell anymore.
“Which one is that?” he asked.
I looked at him.
“Lily.”
He swallowed.
“And the others?”
“Rose and Noah.”
The names visibly hit him.
Months earlier, we had chosen them together.
His eyes softened for half a second.
Then his phone buzzed again.
Not a call.
A text.
Vanessa saw the preview before he could turn the screen away.
Her face changed.
“Who’s Sabrina?”
Daniel went perfectly still.
I looked at Vanessa.
“Sabrina?”
She pointed toward his phone.
“The message says, ‘Did you tell her yet?’”
Daniel shoved the phone into his pocket.
“No one.”
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
“No one?”
“It’s work.”
“Your work messages say ‘Did you tell her yet?’”
I shifted Lily against my shoulder.
“Daniel, perhaps you should answer.”
He looked from Vanessa to me.
