Saturday arrived slowly.
I spent the morning cleaning the house.
Not because Julian had asked me to.
Because keeping my hands busy helped me think.
I washed the kitchen counters.
Changed the sheets.
Folded the towels.
Then I went upstairs and looked at the spare bedroom again.
The cardboard box was still behind the dresser.
I hadn't moved anything.
The receipt was safely photographed.
The printed card from Helga was still where I had found it.
I wondered how many times she had entered that room while I was away.
I wondered whether she had imagined a crib beside the window.
I wondered whether Julian had stood there with her.
The thought made me angry.
But I kept my expression calm.
At eleven, Julian came upstairs.
"Are you getting ready?"
"Not yet."
"Mom said we should arrive around six."
I nodded.
He stood in the doorway.
Then he looked toward the spare bedroom.
"Have you thought about changing this room?"
I turned.
"Changing it into what?"
He shrugged.
"Something useful."
I stared at him.
"Like what?"
He smiled.
"Maybe a guest room."
I almost laughed.
A guest room.
His mother had already discussed a baby.
Sophie had shown me the messages.
And now Julian was pretending he had no idea what the room might become.
"That's a possibility," I said.
He nodded.
Then he walked away.
We arrived at his parents' house shortly before six.
Helga greeted us at the door.
She hugged Julian first.
Then she kissed my cheek.
"Claire, you look lovely."
"Thank you."
Marta was already in the living room.
Klaus sat near the fireplace reading the newspaper.
Everything looked familiar.
The same furniture.
The same photographs.
The same family atmosphere.
I wondered how many secrets had been discussed in that house.
Dinner was served at seven.
This time, I wasn't helping in the kitchen.
I wanted to sit at the table.
I wanted to hear everything.
Helga placed a bowl of salad in the middle.
Klaus poured wine.
Marta talked about a colleague.
Julian answered a few questions about work.
Then Helga put down her fork.
"I think we should talk about the future."
I looked at her.
Julian glanced at his mother.
Klaus folded his napkin.
Marta stopped speaking.
There it was.
The family matter.
Helga smiled at me.
"Claire, you and Julian have been married for a long time."
"Ten years."
"Yes. Ten wonderful years."
I nodded.
She continued.
"You've both wanted a family for so long."
My fingers tightened around my glass.
Julian looked down.
Helga reached across the table and touched my hand.
"I know the last few years have been difficult."
I looked at her.
She was speaking English.
Carefully.
Slowly.
As if she wanted every word to sound kind.
"We all know how much you've suffered."
I didn't respond.
Then she said something I hadn't expected.
"Sometimes life gives us a different opportunity from the one we planned."
I looked at Julian.
He was watching his plate.
Helga continued.
"Sophie is expecting a baby."
There was a silence.
A long one.
I waited.
I wanted to hear how Julian would explain it.
He finally looked at me.
"I was going to tell you."
I stared at him.
"When?"
He swallowed.
"Claire, please."
I turned toward Helga.
She was still holding my hand.
"Don't be upset. We want what's best for everyone."
I slowly pulled my hand away.
"What exactly do you mean?"
Helga exchanged a glance with Klaus.
Then she spoke.
"Julian has made a mistake. But there is a child involved now."
I kept my voice quiet.
"Yes. I understand that."
"We think the baby deserves a stable home."
I looked at her.
"And where would that home be?"
She smiled.
"With us helping, of course."
Julian finally spoke.
"We've talked about this as a family."
I looked at him.
"Without me?"
He didn't answer.
Marta shifted in her chair.
Klaus cleared his throat.
Helga leaned forward.
"Claire, you have always wanted to be a mother. We thought this might be a blessing for you."
I felt my chest tighten.
A blessing.
That was what she called it.
Another woman's pregnancy.
My husband's betrayal.
A plan made behind my back.
I looked at Julian.
"Do you expect me to raise this baby?"
He opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Helga answered for him.
"We thought you might consider it."
I looked around the table.
Nobody seemed surprised.
Nobody seemed ashamed.
They had rehearsed this conversation.
Perhaps many times.
I took a sip of water.
Then I asked the only question that mattered.
"What does Sophie want?"
Helga frowned.
"She wants what is best for the child."
"Did she say that?"
"Of course."
I looked at Julian.
"Have you spoken to her about this?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
I knew that wasn't the whole truth.
Sophie had told me she wanted to raise her own child.
But I didn't correct him.
Not yet.
I wanted to see how much he was willing to lie.
Klaus finally spoke.
"Claire, you must understand that children need stability."
I looked at him.
"Absolutely."
He nodded.
"Then you understand why we are discussing this."
I almost laughed.
They were talking about stability while expecting me to accept the destruction of my marriage.
Marta finally joined in.
"Nobody is trying to hurt you."
I turned toward her.
"Really?"
She looked uncomfortable.
Helga reached for her wineglass.
"We're trying to find a solution."
I nodded slowly.
Then I asked another question.
"Would Julian live with us and the baby?"
He hesitated.
"Of course."
"And Sophie?"
The room became quiet.
Helga looked at Julian.
He rubbed his forehead.
"We haven't worked out every detail."
I looked at him.
"But you've worked out enough to discuss me raising the child."
Nobody answered.
I placed my napkin beside my plate.
"I'm not feeling well."
Helga immediately stood.
"Claire, please don't leave upset."
I looked at her.
"I need some air."
Julian followed me into the hallway.
"Claire, wait."
I turned.
He lowered his voice.
"Please don't make this difficult."
I stared at him.
"You're telling me another woman is pregnant with your child, and I'm making things difficult?"
He looked toward the dining room.
"Keep your voice down."
I almost smiled.
That was what mattered to him.
Not the betrayal.
Not the lies.
The volume of my voice.
I picked up my coat.
"Take me home."
The drive was silent.
Julian kept both hands on the steering wheel.
I watched the streetlights pass.
Finally, he spoke.
"I know this is a lot to process."
I looked out the window.
"Yes."
"I didn't plan for this to happen."
I didn't answer.
He continued.
"Sophie and I made a mistake."
I turned toward him.
"How long?"
He looked uncomfortable.
"What?"
"How long have you been seeing her?"
He hesitated.
Then he said:
"A while."
I stared at him.
"How long is a while?"
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
"Claire, I don't want to argue."
I looked away.
He still wasn't answering.
And that told me enough.
When we arrived home, I went upstairs.
He followed.
"Can we talk?"
"Not tonight."
He stood in the doorway.
Then he said something I would remember for a long time.
"You should think about the opportunity this could give us."
I looked at him.
"What opportunity?"
"A family."
I stared at him.
Then I closed the bedroom door.
For the first time since we had married, I locked it.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: I Stopped Asking My Husband for the Truth and Started Looking at the Documents He Never Thought I Would Read
My Husband Thought I Was Too Clueless to Understand His Family’s Secret Language, Until One Dinner Changed Everything
Part 6 of 20
