pulled an old envelope from his bag.
“Your father paid me five hundred dollars every month for forty years.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“What for?”
“So you would never find out the real reason we don’t have children.”
My heart began pounding.
“Robert, explain yourself!”
He lowered his head.
“That night in the hospital, things happened very differently from what we told you.”
I froze.
“Then I could have had children?”
He remained silent.
“Robert, were YOU the one who couldn’t have children? Is that why my father paid you?”
My husband shook his head.
“You don’t understand, Margaret. Your father was afraid that if you discovered the truth, you would never want to live with either of us again.”
I snatched the envelope from his hands. Inside were records of bank transfers, old hospital documents, and a woman’s name.
Susan Miller.