Chapter 3 - THE PROMISE BEFORE THE PREGNANCY
Ryan reached for Lauren so quickly that several people noticed.
"Don't."
His voice was sharp.
Lauren pulled away.
"Why not?"
"Because you're upset."
She laughed bitterly.
"Of course I'm upset."
She gestured toward the ruined wedding decorations.
"Our wedding is destroyed."
I stood between them.
"What promise?"
Neither answered.
"Lauren, what did Ryan promise you?"
She looked at me with an expression that held thirteen years of jealousy.
"He promised he was leaving you."
I swallowed.
"Before I found out about the affair?"
"Long before."
Ryan closed his eyes.
Lauren continued.
"He said your marriage had been over for years."
I looked at Ryan.
He said nothing.
"He said he was only staying because of the children."
I felt an old familiar ache.
Not because I believed her.
Because I remembered how many times Ryan had kissed me goodnight while apparently telling my sister he wanted another life.
"And?"
Lauren's expression hardened.
"And he promised we would start our own family."
The church seemed suddenly colder.
I glanced at the wedding flowers.
White roses.
The same flowers I had carried when I married Ryan.
"You were planning children with my husband while I was pregnant?"
Lauren looked away.
"That wasn't supposed to happen."
"What wasn't?"
"Your pregnancy."
Ryan stepped toward her.
"Enough."
But Lauren was no longer listening.
"He told me you weren't going to have any more babies."
I stared at him.
"Ryan?"
He rubbed his forehead.
"We had discussed being finished."
"We discussed waiting."
"Annie—"
"We discussed waiting until Noah started kindergarten."
His jaw tightened.
Lauren gave a short, bitter laugh.
"Well, he told me something different."
I looked at the man I had once trusted with my life.
For thirteen years, I'd explained away his forgetfulness, his temper, his absences, his insistence that I was too emotional.
Now every memory was beginning to shift.
There were nights when he came home and immediately showered.
Days when my sister appeared at our house carrying gifts for my children.
Afternoons when I thought Ryan was working late and Lauren was visiting friends.
I had been watching an entire second relationship unfold inside my own family.
And they had expected me to remain grateful.
My father stepped forward.
"This conversation is inappropriate."
I turned toward him.
"Then leave."
He looked stunned.
"Excuse me?"
"You've spent months telling me to stop being angry."
"Annie—"
"And now you're standing here defending the people who caused the damage."
His face flushed.
"Watch your tone."
I shook my head.
"No."
The word came out cleanly.
Without hesitation.
"No, Dad."
He stared at me.
I had never spoken to him that way.
I should have done it years earlier.
A police officer approached.
"Ma'am, are you all right?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
He glanced toward Ryan.
"We've spoken with witnesses about the disturbance, and we need everyone to remain calm."
Ryan immediately straightened his jacket.
"Of course, Officer."
The transformation was almost impressive.
One second, furious.
The next, charming.
The same trick he had used throughout our marriage.
I looked at Lauren.
"You said my pregnancy wasn't supposed to happen."
She swallowed.
"What did you mean?"
"Nothing."
"Then why say it?"
Ryan interrupted.
"Because she's emotional."
I turned slowly toward him.
"Stop speaking for her."
He clenched his jaw.
I stepped closer to Lauren.
"Did you know I was pregnant before I told the family?"
Her expression changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
I remembered the afternoon I discovered the pregnancy.
The test in our bathroom.
My trembling hands.
My excitement.
Ryan's strangely flat reaction when I showed him the result.
I had thought he was overwhelmed.
Now I wondered whether he had been calculating.
"Lauren?"
She looked toward our mother.
My mother shook her head almost imperceptibly.
I saw it.
And I knew Rachel would have seen it too.
"How did you know?"
Lauren whispered, "Ryan told me."
"When?"
She hesitated.
"Before you announced it."
My pulse accelerated.
"How much before?"
No answer.
"Lauren."
"Three weeks."
I stared at her.
Three weeks.
Ryan had known.
He had told her.
And together they had kept smiling through family dinners while I planned our announcement.
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I reached into my purse and took out the hospital letter.
"I'm calling this clinic."
Ryan immediately said, "You don't need to."
I met his eyes.
"Watch me."
Then my phone vibrated.
A message appeared from an unfamiliar number.
I almost ignored it.
Until I read the first sentence.
DO NOT CONFRONT YOUR FAMILY ABOUT THE RECORDS UNTIL YOU HAVE COPIES.
A second message followed.
May you like
I WORKED AT THE CLINIC.
AND I KNOW WHO REQUESTED THE CHANGE.
