He nodded, although his eyes had already filled with tears.
I reached for the drawing, hoping to fold it before he could look at it again.
Instead, he pulled it against his chest.
“I made this for him,” he whispered. “I thought he would be happy.”
That broke something inside me.
Not the announcement. Not Vanessa’s name. Not even the humiliation of realizing that strangers on this plane might know more about my husband’s secret life than I did.
It was the sight of my little boy trying to understand why his father had made room in his heart for another woman while apparently forgetting to mention the child who worshipped him.
I wrapped my arm around Mason and kissed the top of his head.
“You did nothing wrong,” I told him. “Do you understand? Nothing.”
He nodded against my shoulder.
The rest of the flight passed in a blur.
