Chapter 1 - The Perfect Family
At my baby shower, my husband kissed my forehead while my best friend raised a champagne flute and called us “the perfect family.”
That was the moment I knew I was ready to destroy the lie.
Thirty-two people stood beneath the wooden pergola in our backyard that Saturday afternoon. Pink, cream, and pale-blue balloons curved around the patio. White roses floated in glass bowls. Tiny wooden signs pointed guests toward the dessert table, the gift station, and the ridiculous diaper raffle my sister June had insisted on organizing.
Everything looked beautiful.
Maren had made sure of that.
My best friend of eleven years had arrived at eight that morning with flowers, ribbon, and enough energy for three event planners. She had adjusted the tablecloths herself. She had repositioned the cake because she said the sunlight would be better for photographs. She had even stood behind me while I looked in the bedroom mirror and told me that the blush-pink maternity dress made me look “absolutely radiant.”
Then she had hugged me.
I had hugged her back.
And I had wondered whether she could feel my daughter moving between us.
“Tessa?”
Gavin’s voice pulled me back to the party.
My husband stood beside me, handsome and relaxed in a pale blue button-down shirt and beige trousers. He had one arm around my waist.
Anyone watching us would have thought we were happy.
That was the point.
For twelve days, I had allowed him to believe I knew nothing.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Perfect.”
He smiled.
Then he kissed my forehead.
Across the patio, Maren lifted her champagne flute.
“I want to say something!”
People quieted.
Maren smiled brightly.
“To Tessa and Gavin,” she announced. “To their beautiful baby girl, and to the perfect family.”
Glasses rose.
“To the perfect family!”
I almost admired her.
Almost.
Because twelve days earlier, I had discovered that Maren was carrying Gavin’s child.
And that had turned out to be the least horrifying thing they had done.
I waited through the toast.
I smiled for photographs.
I thanked Aunt Rebecca for the hand-knitted blanket.
I laughed when my cousin guessed that my belly measured forty-seven inches around.
Then June caught my eye from across the patio.
My sister knew.
She was one of only three people who knew what was about to happen.
She gave me the smallest nod.
It was time.
I walked toward the cake table and picked up the remote control.
“Before we open the gifts,” I said, “I have one more pregnancy announcement.”
People immediately started smiling.
Someone laughed.
My mother looked confused.
Maren’s champagne flute stopped halfway to her mouth.
Gavin went completely still beside me.
Nobody else noticed.
Not yet.
I rested one hand beneath my eight-month belly.
Then I looked directly at Maren.
“Maren is twelve weeks pregnant.”
For approximately three seconds, there was silence.
Then the patio exploded.
“Oh my God!”
“Maren!”
“Congratulations!”
My mother actually clapped.
Someone near the balloons squealed, “Two babies!”
Maren didn't move.
Her face had gone almost white.
Gavin’s fingers tightened around my shoulder.
“Tessa,” he whispered.
I turned toward him.
He looked terrified.
It was the first completely honest expression I had seen on my husband’s face in twelve days.
I waited until the congratulations faded.
Then I smiled.
“You should probably congratulate Gavin too.”
Silence.
A fork hit a plate.
My mother slowly lowered her hands.
Gavin removed his arm from around me.
I finished the sentence.
“He’s the father.”
Nobody moved.
Maren stared at me.
Gavin whispered, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Saving everyone some time.”
“Tessa.”
“No, really. Think how exhausting it would be for you two to call everybody individually.”
“Tess, please,” Maren whispered.
That nearly made me laugh.
This woman had held my hair when morning sickness left me kneeling beside the toilet.
She had helped choose my daughter’s bassinet.
She had painted sample colors on my nursery wall.
She had been sitting beside me when I first felt my daughter kick.
Now she wanted privacy.
Gavin reached for my elbow.
I stepped away.
His mother, Lorraine, was standing beside the dessert table.
“What is she talking about?”
Gavin rubbed his face.
“This is not the place.”
I looked at him.
“You thought my house was the place.”
His head snapped toward me.
Maren closed her eyes.
And that reaction told everyone there was more.
June appeared beside me.
“Tessa, do you want to sit down?”
“No.”
For once, I wanted to stand.
Gavin lowered his voice.
“You’re upset. We should go inside and discuss this privately.”
There it was.
Not denial.
Not confusion.
Not outrage.
Just an attempt to remove the witnesses.
I lifted the remote.
The outdoor television had been displaying ultrasound photographs.
I pressed one button.
The picture changed.
Maren’s name appeared at the top of the screen.
Doctor says twelve weeks. Everything looks good.
Below it was Gavin’s response.
Wish I could’ve stayed longer. Tell our little peanut I love them.
Someone gasped.
Lorraine stared at her son.
“Gavin?”
He said nothing.
Maren began crying.
“It wasn't supposed to happen like this.”
“The pregnancy?”
“Tessa—”
I pressed the remote again.
A second conversation appeared.
Once the paperwork is done, she can’t just tell me to leave.
Maren had replied:
And the house?
Gavin:
We’ll deal with that after the baby comes. She’ll be exhausted. I’ll bring it up again then.
The backyard became so quiet that I could hear the wind moving through the maple tree beside the fence.
Lorraine gripped the edge of the table.
“You were trying to take her house?”
“That isn't what happened,” Gavin snapped.
“Then explain it.”
He looked around.
Thirty-two people were staring at him.
His family.
My family.
Our neighbors.
Coworkers.
Friends.
People who had come carrying diapers and blankets for the daughter he had apparently planned to remove from her own home.
Gavin’s expression hardened.
“This is between my wife and me.”
“No,” I said.
I clicked once more.
A photograph of my nursery appeared.
Cream crib.
Sage curtains.
The wooden moon Maren herself had hung above the changing table.
Beneath the photograph was her message.
Honestly, this room would be perfect for ours. Once she’s gone, we can repaint it.
Lorraine sank into a chair.
Maren covered her mouth.
“Tessa, I am so sorry.”
“Not yet.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“You don’t get to apologize until you know what you’re apologizing for.”
Because twelve days earlier, I had believed discovering my husband’s affair would be the worst moment of my life.
I had been wrong.
The affair was only the doorway.
Behind it was a plan.
A petition.
Missing money.
And a promise Gavin had made to Maren about a house he had never owned.
And while everyone at my baby shower stared at the screen, I reached for the final folder beside the cake.
Because Gavin still thought he was about to lose his marriage.
May you like
He had no idea he was about to lose much more.
---
