Chapter 2
Diane didn’t move.
Her hand was still raised, frozen in the air where Ethan had caught it.
The relatives at the table leaned forward.
No one breathed.
Robert held the envelope between his thumb and index finger like it contained dynamite.
“Robert,” Diane said, her voice barely a whisper. “Put that away.”
Robert didn’t move.
“You spent twenty minutes calling this girl names,” he said, nodding at me. “You told everyone she trapped our son. You said she used a baby as insurance.”
Diane’s face drained of color.
“Not here, Robert. Please.”
“Why not here?” Robert’s voice rose. “You had no problem airing their dirty laundry in front of everyone. Why should yours stay hidden?”
Ethan released his mother’s wrist.
She stumbled back a step, her eyes never leaving the envelope.
“Dad,” Ethan said. “What is that?”
Robert looked at his son.
“Your mother was right about one thing,” he said. “Getting pregnant before the wedding does change things.”
He flipped the envelope over and ran his finger along the sealed edge.
“Thirty-one years ago,” he said, “your mother stood in exactly the same spot you’re standing in now, Emily. Seven months pregnant. Unmarried. And her own mother told her the exact same things she just told you.”
The room erupted into quiet murmurs.
Diane’s sister, Linda, covered her mouth.
She knew.
Of course she knew.
Diane looked at Linda with murder in her eyes.
“You told him,” she hissed.
Linda shook her head.
“I never said a word, Diane. You know that.”
Robert opened the envelope.
He pulled out a single sheet of paper, folded in thirds.
“Your mother’s discharge papers from Nashville General,” he said. “Dated March 14, 1994. She was admitted for observation. Pre-term labor. Twenty-four weeks along.”
He looked directly at Diane.
“Our wedding was September 17, 1994.”
The math landed like a punch.
Six months before the wedding.
Exactly what she’d just attacked me for.
Diane sank into a chair.
Her hands started shaking.
“Robert, please,” she said. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I don’t?” He laughed bitterly. “I’ve watched you torture this girl for six months. I’ve listened to you call her names behind her back. I’ve watched you make my son choose between his wife and his mother. And every single time, I wanted to stand up and say something. But I didn’t. Because I promised you I’d keep your secret.”
He waved the paper in the air.
“Well, your secret just cost my daughter-in-law a slap across the face. So we’re done keeping it.”
Ethan stared at his mother.
“Mom,” he said. “Is it true?”
Diane didn’t answer.
She stared at the tablecloth, her face crumpling.
“Answer me!” Ethan shouted.
She flinched.
“Yes,” she whispered. “It’s true.”
The relatives went quiet again.
This was better than any reality show.
And they were getting front-row seats.
“So you were pregnant before you got married?” Ethan said. “And you’ve spent every day since we told you about Emily acting like she committed some unforgivable sin?”
Diane looked up, tears streaming down her face.
“It was different back then,” she said.
“Different how?” I asked.
My voice was steadier than I felt.
The stinging on my cheek was still there.
“Different because I didn’t use it to trap your father,” she snapped.
Robert laughed.
A cold, hollow sound.
“Tell him the rest, Diane.”
May you like
She froze.
“Tell our son what happened to that baby.”
