“She told me she didn’t.”
“You talked to her about this?”
His eyes drifted toward our wedding photo in the hallway.
“That’s exactly what she hoped you wouldn’t tell me.”
A cold weight settled in my chest.
“No. I’ve been waiting for her to make a move.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Ethan lowered his eyes.
“Because Camille asked me not to.”
I let out a bitter laugh.
“She was scared.”
“So was I.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
I pushed the photographs toward him.
“Your mother came into my home after refusing to attend our wedding. She made me promise not to tell you she’d been there. Then she handed me pictures meant to convince me you were cheating.”
“And somehow I’m still the last person anyone thinks deserves the truth.”
His face tightened.
“You’re right.”
I hadn’t expected that.
I expected excuses.
“You’re right. I should have told you.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because if Camille was telling the truth, it meant my father had built our family on another lie. If she wasn’t, I didn’t want to drag you into it.”
“You don’t protect me by keeping me in the dark.”
“I know.”
There was no defensiveness.
That didn’t erase my anger.
It only made it harder to hold on to.
I pointed to one picture.
“The office building?”
“I was meeting an estate attorney.”
“The park?”
“Camille had just discovered her mother destroyed most of Dad’s letters.”
“The restaurant receipt?”
“Dinner with Camille and Evelyn.”
“And Vermont?”
NEXT PAGE
