Chapter 2 - The Secret I Never Told Her
I didn't sleep that night.
Lauren slept in the guest room.
I stayed at the kitchen table until sunrise.
The house was silent.
Too silent.
I opened my phone.
For years, I had kept evidence of my affairs hidden behind passwords.
Messages.
Photographs.
Hotel reservations.
Numbers saved under fake names.
I opened them one by one.
And for the first time, I didn't feel excitement.
I felt disgust.
Not toward the women.
Toward myself.
At 6:14 a.m., Lauren walked into the kitchen.
She stopped when she saw me.
“You're still awake.”
“Yes.”
She poured coffee.
“Are you leaving?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to tell you something.”
She looked at me.
“I've been cheating on you.”
Lauren didn't move.
I continued.
“Not once.”
Silence.
“For years.”
She slowly placed the coffee cup on the counter.
“How many?”
I swallowed.
“I don't know.”
She laughed once.
It wasn't a happy sound.
“You don't know?”
“Some were brief.”
“How many, James?”
“More than ten.”
She closed her eyes.
I expected screaming.
Instead, she whispered,
“I knew.”
My blood ran cold.
“What?”
“I knew.”
“How?”
“You became predictable.”
She looked at me.
“You showered before coming home.”
I couldn't breathe.
“You started buying different cologne.”
She continued.
“You stopped letting me use your phone.”
Every word felt like a knife.
“Why didn't you confront me?”
“Because I wanted to see how far you'd go.”
I lowered my head.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Losing you.”
She stared at me.
“You were afraid of losing me while you were cheating on me?”
“Yes.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“I know.”
I began crying.
I hadn't cried in years.
Not like that.
“I convinced myself that because I came home, I wasn't really betraying you.”
Lauren's expression softened slightly.
“That's what people tell themselves when they want permission to hurt someone.”
I nodded.
“I know.”
She sat across from me.
“Do you know what the worst part was?”
“What?”
“I blamed myself.”
I looked up.
She continued.
“I thought maybe I wasn't attractive anymore.”
My chest tightened.
“I thought maybe I was boring.”
“Lauren—”
“I thought maybe you were cheating because I wasn't enough.”
I covered my face.
She had spent years blaming herself for wounds I had created.
That realization was almost unbearable.
“I am sorry.”
She shook her head.
“Sorry isn't enough.”
“I know.”
“What do you want?”
I looked at her.
“You.”
She was quiet.
“That's not enough either.”
“I know.”
Then my phone rang.
I looked at the screen.
One of the women from my past.
I declined it.
Another message appeared.
We need to talk.
Lauren saw it.
She stood.
“I think you should leave.”
I nodded.
“I will.”
I grabbed my coat.
At the doorway, Lauren stopped me.
“James.”
I turned.
“Don't try to win me back with promises.”
“Then what should I do?”
“Become someone who deserves to be trusted.”
I left.
For the first time in nine years, I had no idea what came next.
That afternoon, I called a therapist.
Then I called my attorney.
Not to protect my money.
To ask how I could make sure Lauren and the children were protected if we divorced.
Then something unexpected happened.
Andrew called me.
I almost didn't answer.
“Hello?”
“This is Andrew Bennett.”
I knew immediately.
“What do you want?”
“To talk.”
“I don't want to hear about you and my wife.”
“I understand.”
“Then why call?”
“Because Lauren asked me to.”
I froze.
“What?”
“She wants you to hear the truth.”
“What truth?”
Andrew paused.
“She never cheated on you.”
“I know.”
“No.”
His voice became firm.
“You don't know.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Meet me tomorrow.”
May you like
“Why?”
“Because there is something about Lauren's past you need to understand before you decide what kind of man you're going to become.”
