Chapter 2 - THE PURSUIT OF ANSWERS
Inside the car,
the boys were buzzing with an energy I couldn’t match.
“Did you see his watch,
Mom?”
Julian asked,
always the one obsessed with shiny things.
“It looked like the one in your old engineering magazines,”
he added,
kicking his feet against the seat.
I tried to smile,
but my heart was racing at a hundred miles per hour.
“It was just a watch,
Jules,”
I said,
running a hand through my hair.
I looked at the phone in my hand,
wondering if I should call my lawyer.
The secret I had kept for half a decade had just exploded in my face.
When I left New York,
I was three weeks pregnant and didn't even know it.
By the time I found out,
the divorce papers were signed,
and Ethan had already gone public with his new life.
He had called me a liar,
a cheat,
and a gold-digger.
Why would I have gone back to a man who didn't believe in my heart?
I built a life here in Chicago,
using my maiden name and the patents I had fought to keep.
I was successful,
I was free,
and my children were happy.
But as we pulled into the driveway of our suburban home,
a pair of headlights appeared in the distance.
A black SUV was following at a discreet distance.
My blood ran cold.
“Arthur,”
I said,
noticing the driver looking in the mirror too.
“I see him,
Ma'am,”
Arthur replied,
his voice grim.
“Should I call the police?”
I shook my head,
knowing exactly who was in that car.
The police couldn't help me with the storm that was about to hit.
I got the boys inside,
hurrying them into the kitchen for a snack.
I watched from the window as the SUV parked across the street.
For an hour,
nothing happened.
The sun began to set,
casting long,
amber shadows over the lawn.
Then,
the door of the SUV opened.
Ethan stepped out,
having changed out of his suit jacket.
He looked tired,
haggard,
and desperate.
He walked across the street with a purpose that made my breath hitch.
He didn't ring the doorbell.
He just stood on the porch,
waiting for me to acknowledge him.
I opened the door just an inch,
the security chain still in place.
“Go away,
Ethan,”
I whispered.
“We have nothing to talk about.”
“Three boys,
Olivia,”
he said,
his voice barely audible.
“Three boys who look exactly like me.”
“Coincidence is a funny thing,”
I lied,
though we both knew it was the weakest lie I’d ever told.
“Don’t do this,”
he pleaded,
resting his forehead against the door.
“Don’t keep them from me.”
“You kept yourself from them,”
May you like
I countered,
“the moment you chose to believe a stranger’s lies over your wife’s truth.”
