I unfolded the paper carefully.
My fingers were still shaking.
The first thing I noticed was Brad's handwriting.
I knew it immediately.
The same handwriting that appeared on birthday cards, grocery lists, and the little notes he used to leave beside my coffee cup when we were newly married.
I hadn't seen him write anything personal in months.
Now his words were sitting in my hands.
I started reading.
"To my wife,
If you're reading this, then I've probably failed to find the right moment to explain everything."
I stopped.
My eyes moved toward the woman sitting across from me.
She didn't say anything.
I continued.
"I know I've been distant. I know you've noticed the late nights, the phone calls, and the things I've tried to keep away from you."
My throat tightened.
He knew.
He knew I'd been watching him.
He knew I'd been asking questions.
And he'd allowed me to believe I was imagining things.
The letter continued.
"I should have trusted you enough to tell you the truth myself. Instead, I kept asking other people to help me because I was afraid of what would happen when you found out."
I lowered the paper.
"What is this?"
The woman looked at me.
"Keep reading."
I hated those words.
Everyone seemed determined to make me discover the truth one sentence at a time.
I continued.
"Chloe knows about the arrangement. She has been helping me with something I couldn't manage alone."
I felt my stomach tighten.
The arrangement.
That word made everything sound worse.
I read the next line.
"Please don't judge what happened this morning until you've heard the explanation."
I looked up.
"How did he know I'd be upset this morning?"
The woman shifted in her chair.
"I don't think he knew exactly what would happen."
"Then what does that mean?"
She looked toward the kitchen.
"Brad had been trying to prepare for a conversation with you."
I laughed bitterly.
"He could have started by telling me he was sleeping with his secretary."
She didn't respond.
I folded the letter.
Then unfolded it again.
There was another paragraph at the bottom.
"There's something about our past that I should have explained a long time ago. The date on the pharmacy paperwork is connected to it."
I looked at the date.
It was the same date I'd noticed earlier.
A date I remembered from months ago.
Brad and I had discussed it over dinner.
We'd been sitting at the dining table.
He'd asked whether I remembered the appointment we'd once talked about.
I'd told him I did.
Then he'd asked whether I would ever consider going through with it.
I had said I wasn't ready.
We'd never discussed it again.
Or so I thought.
I looked at the visitor.
"Who are you to Brad?"
She seemed surprised by the question.
"I'm his older sister, Margaret."
I stared at her.
I had met Margaret several times during our marriage.
She had attended our wedding.
She had visited us during the holidays.
But we'd never been especially close.
I hadn't recognized her immediately because she'd changed her hairstyle and was wearing glasses.
"Why didn't you tell me that when you arrived?"
"I thought you'd recognize me."
"I haven't seen you in nearly two years."
She lowered her eyes.
"You're right."
I sat back.
"Why are you here, Margaret?"
She looked at the envelope.
"Because Brad asked me to make sure you received that letter."
I felt another wave of confusion.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know."
"You came here without knowing where your brother was?"
"I knew where he was earlier."
"Earlier?"
She hesitated.
"Something happened after he left."
My heart began beating faster.
I remembered the phone on the floor.
The open door.
The angry shout outside.
"What happened?"
Margaret took a breath.
"He called me."
"When?"
"Shortly after seven."
I looked toward the clock.
It was nearly eleven.
"What did he say?"
"He sounded upset."
"About what?"
She looked at me carefully.
"About the conversation he needed to have with you."
I shook my head.
"That doesn't explain anything."
"No. It doesn't."
I stood and walked toward the window.
Outside, a neighbor was watering her plants.
A delivery truck passed.
The world continued as though nothing unusual had happened.
I wondered how many other people were carrying secrets inside ordinary houses.
Then I turned around.
"Margaret, I need you to tell me what Chloe has to do with this."
She finally answered.
"Chloe helped Brad arrange something connected to the appointment you discussed months ago."
I looked at the pharmacy bag.
The appointment.
The date.
My name.
Suddenly, I remembered exactly what Brad had asked me.
It was the day we'd talked about expanding our family.
We had been married for years.
We'd once dreamed about having children.
But life had become complicated.
We postponed it.
Then we postponed it again.
Eventually, we stopped discussing it.
I looked at Margaret.
"Is this about having a baby?"
She didn't answer immediately.
And that was enough to make my hands go cold.
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: The Name on the Pharmacy Bag Was Connected to a Dream We Had Buried Long Before Chloe Entered Our Lives
I Thought My Husband Was Meeting Another Woman That Morning, Until One Small Detail Made Me Question Everything
Part 5 of 20
