Owen tried to help.
He cooked more often.
He handled Jamie’s school pickup.
He reminded me to eat whenever grief made food seem unnecessary.
But lately, he had become secretive.
He took calls in the garage.
He changed the password on his laptop.
Several times, I arrived home and noticed a sweet, unfamiliar fragrance in the upstairs hallway.
Then the spare bedroom began remaining locked.
When I asked why, Owen said he was storing an anniversary gift inside.
Our anniversary was still two months away.
I wanted to believe him.
Trusting him was easier than admitting I had started noticing cracks.
The afternoon Jamie pointed out the woman, we were waiting in line at the supermarket.
She stood beside a display of lilies, examining a bundle of white flowers.
Her hair was tied in a loose knot.
A streak of dark blue paint marked one wrist.
Jamie tugged my sleeve.
“That’s Miss Ivy.”
“You know her?”
“She comes over with the big case.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does she do at our house?”
Jamie lowered his voice.
“Secret things.”
“What kind of things?”
“She goes upstairs with Daddy.”
The woman turned slightly.
I recognized the green coat hanging near our back door two weeks earlier.
Owen had claimed it belonged to a delivery driver who had stepped inside during the rain.
Jamie pointed again.
“She lets me help sometimes.”
My heart dropped.
“Help with what?”
He covered his mouth.
“I’m not supposed to tell.”
The woman finally noticed us.
Her eyes landed on Jamie first.
Recognition softened her face.
Then she looked at me.
The softness disappeared.
She knew exactly who I was.
I abandoned our place in line and pushed the cart toward her.
“Excuse me.”
She placed the flowers down.
“Rachel?”
Hearing my name from her mouth made the store seem to tilt.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Ivy.”
“My son says you visit my house when I’m gone.”
She glanced toward Jamie.
“I think you should speak to Owen.”
“I’m speaking to you.”
Her fingers tightened around the strap of the black case.
“I promised him I wouldn’t explain.”
“A married man asked you to keep secrets from his wife, and that did not concern you?”
Her expression changed.
“It isn’t what you think.”
Everyone says that when it is exactly what you think.
“Do you go into my bedroom?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
The answer struck harder than denial would have.
I turned the cart away before I said something Jamie would remember forever.
Behind me, Ivy called my name.
I did not stop.
In the parking lot, Jamie began crying.
“I’m sorry, Mommy. Daddy said the surprise would break if I told.”
I knelt beside him.
“You did nothing wrong.”
“Are you mad at Daddy?”
I could not answer.
I loaded the groceries into the car and called Owen.
