He looked startled.
“She said that?”
“Yes.”
He sat on the edge of the bed.
Then he covered his face.
“I didn’t want to tell you.”
My stomach tightened.
“Tell me what?”
He looked up.
“Claire has been struggling.”
“With what?”
“Money.”
I almost laughed.
“So you’ve been helping her?”
“Sometimes.”
“How?”
He didn’t answer.
“How, Mark?”
“I’ve been giving her money.”
I stared at him.
“How much?”
He looked away.
That silence was enough.
I felt sick.
“How much?”
“About three thousand dollars a month.”
My mouth fell open.
“Three thousand?”
“She needed help.”
“And you were giving it to her while telling me we needed to save for our baby?”
“It’s complicated.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“It isn’t complicated.”
I stood up.
“You chose her.”
“No.”
“You did.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
He looked at me.
“From the truth.”
Those words stayed with me.
