The day before Ryan's ship was due to arrive, I bought the tickets.
I had finally made the decision.
There was no more imagining or wondering whether I should do it.
I was going.
The destination was the city where his cruise ship was expected to dock.
I made the arrangements and prepared to travel with the girls.
I checked their things carefully.
I wanted to make sure I had everything they needed.
I was nervous, but it was the good kind of nervous.
The kind that comes before something you have been looking forward to for a long time.
I kept thinking about Ryan.
I wondered what his face would look like when he saw us.
Would he recognize the girls immediately?
Would he laugh?
Would he be surprised that I had traveled all that way?
I hoped he would be happy.
That was all I wanted.
I wasn't expecting gifts.
I wasn't expecting some grand celebration.
I just wanted him to see his daughters.
And I wanted us to go home together.
The journey itself was something I focused on one step at a time.
With two babies, there wasn't much room for careless planning.
I had to pay attention to them.
I had to make sure they were comfortable.
I couldn't simply rush from one place to another.
But we made it.
When we reached the city, I knew we were getting closer to the moment I had imagined.
I was tired.
The girls needed attention.
But I was excited enough to forget about most of it.
The next day, I went to the cruise terminal.
I held our daughters close as I waited.
There were other people there, too.
Some were waiting for family members.
Some were waiting for friends.
Others were simply moving through the terminal.
I watched the people coming out.
Every time I saw someone who looked as though he might be from the ship, I paid attention.
I kept looking.
I wanted to be ready.
The girls were in my arms.
I adjusted my hold on them and looked toward the terminal entrance again.
Then I saw Ryan.
For a second, I almost didn't believe it.
There he was.
The man I had spent months waiting to see.
The man who had called me and asked about our daughters.
The man who had told me repeatedly how much he wanted to hold them.
I felt a smile spread across my face.
I was about to wave.
I was about to call his name.
I was already imagining the moment when he would notice us.
Then I saw that someone was walking beside him.
A woman.
She had a suitcase with her.
Ryan wasn't walking beside her like a colleague or somebody he had simply met during the journey.
His arm was resting around her waist.
They looked comfortable together.
Too comfortable.
They were laughing.
She said something to him, and he turned toward her with a smile.
I stopped moving.
I watched them for another moment because my mind was trying to make sense of what I was seeing.
There had to be some explanation.
Maybe she was somebody from the ship.
Maybe they were friends.
Maybe I had misunderstood the way they were standing.
I wanted one of those explanations to be true.
Then Ryan leaned toward her.
And kissed her.
Not a greeting between strangers.
Not some accidental moment.
He kissed her as though it was perfectly normal.
As though they had done it before.
My smile disappeared.
I felt my stomach drop.
The sounds around me seemed to move farther away.
I could still see people walking.
I could still hear the noise of the terminal.
But I wasn't paying attention to any of it.
I was looking at my husband.
And he was kissing another woman.
I didn't know what to do.
I didn't know whether to call his name.
I didn't know whether to turn around.
I didn't even know how to move my feet.
The girls were still in my arms.
That was what brought me back to myself.
I looked down at them briefly.
They were completely unaware of what was happening.
They had no idea that the man approaching them was their father.
They had no idea that the woman beside him was not their mother.
And they certainly had no idea that the moment I had imagined for months was falling apart in front of me.
I wanted to cry.
But I couldn't.
I just stood there.
Then Ryan looked in my direction.
At first, his expression seemed ordinary.
Then he recognized me.
I watched his face change.
He stopped.
For a moment, he looked as though he couldn't understand why I was standing there.
Then he started walking toward me.
The woman came with him.
I didn't move.
I waited for him to speak.
He stopped in front of me.
His eyes moved from my face to the babies.
Then back to me.
"Claire? What are you doing here?"
His voice sounded surprised.
Almost as though I had interrupted something.
I swallowed.
My throat felt tight.
"I wanted to surprise you. I thought you would be happy to see the girls as soon as you got off the ship."
I looked down at our daughters.
Then I looked at him again.
I had rehearsed this moment in my mind so many times.
Not once had I imagined saying those words while he stood beside another woman.
The woman glanced at me.
Then she laughed.
It wasn't a nervous laugh.
It sounded amused.
She looked between Ryan and me as though she had suddenly found herself in an entertaining situation.
"Well, this certainly wasn't how I expected things to go."
I stared at her.
I couldn't understand how she could laugh.
I was holding two babies.
Ryan was standing in front of his wife.
And she was smiling.
Then Ryan spoke again.
"Claire, don't turn this into a big scene."
I looked at him.
A scene?
That was what he was worried about?
He glanced at the woman before continuing.
"We met while I was working on the ship. Things developed between us."
He said it casually.
As if he were explaining an ordinary inconvenience.
I waited.
I expected him to say he was sorry.
I expected him to look ashamed.
I expected him to acknowledge that I was standing there with the daughters he had spent months claiming to miss.
Instead, he started explaining himself.
He said being away for so long was difficult.
He said he was young.
He said he was an attractive man.
And apparently, he believed those things were enough to explain why he had been unfaithful.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
He didn't stop there.
He began talking as though remaining faithful to one woman for months was something unreasonable to expect from him.
He even suggested that his behavior was simply part of being a man.
The woman beside him watched me with a small, satisfied expression.
Ryan seemed increasingly comfortable with his own explanation.
Then he said something that made everything even worse.
He admitted that she wasn't the only woman he had been involved with during his time away.
I looked at him.
I wondered whether I had heard correctly.
He wasn't confessing because he felt guilty.
He wasn't struggling to find the right words.
He was telling me as though I should have expected it.
I had spent those months caring for our daughters.
I had carried them before they were born.
I had given birth while he was away.
I had listened to him talk about how badly he wanted to come home.
And now he was standing in front of me, explaining that being faithful had apparently been too much to ask.
I felt something inside me change.
The shock was still there.
The hurt was still there.
But the need to beg him for an explanation suddenly disappeared.
I looked at the woman.
Then I looked at Ryan.
He was still waiting for me to react.
He seemed to expect anger.
Perhaps he thought I would cry.
Perhaps he thought I would shout at him in front of everyone.
I couldn't say.
But I knew I wasn't going to give him the reaction he wanted.
I adjusted the babies in my arms.
Then I took a breath.
For the first time since seeing him kiss that woman, my thoughts became clear.
I had come all this way believing I was bringing Ryan the happiest surprise of his life.
Instead, I had discovered the truth about the man I had married.
And he still hadn't understood one very important thing.
I looked directly at him.
"You know what, Ryan? I think I understand."
He seemed surprised by my answer.
I even managed a small smile.
Then I spoke again.
"But you've forgotten something rather important."
His expression changed slightly.
I held his gaze.
"Look to your right."
And for the first time since he had walked out of that terminal, Ryan stopped smiling.
Click here to continue reading: PART 5: The Moment Ryan Looked Beside Him, His Confidence Disappeared and the Woman Who Had Been Smiling Finally Went Quiet
I Thought the Hardest Part of Having Twins Would Be Raising Them Alone While My Husband Was Somewhere Across the Ocean
Part 4 of 20
