“I was going to tell you,” she said. “I swear I was going to tell you before the baby came.”
I sat down slowly, like my body had forgotten how to function.
“Before the baby came,” I repeated.
She nodded through tears. “I just… I didn’t know how. And I didn’t want to lose you.”
I stared at her.
The woman I loved.
The woman I trusted.
The woman I was building a family with.
And suddenly, I understood the message on the car door in a way I didn’t want to.
Hope she was worth it.
Not a question.
A warning.
And now, I didn’t know which hurt more.
The truth that had been hidden.
Or the fact that it had been waiting for us all along.