Chapter 3: What Jason Knew
I stepped away from the kids.
Just far enough that they couldn't hear me.
"Jason.
Tell me."
A breath.
Then, "There's a woman, Sarah.
Her name is Cara.
She lives in Clearwater — about forty minutes from your resort.
Mark's been talking to her for eight months."
Eight months.
The same eight months I spent planning the vacation.
"How do you know this?" My voice came out steadier than I felt.
"Because he told me.
He needed someone to cover for him if you called.
I said I would." He paused.
"I shouldn't have.
I've been sitting with it for two days and I can't — I'm sorry.
I should've told you the moment he asked."
I looked back at my kids.
My oldest, Lily, was holding her little brother's hand, pointing at something in a shop window.
My youngest, Cody, had his face pressed against the glass.
"Is he with her right now?" I asked.
Jason didn't answer fast enough.
"Jason."
"I think so.
Yes."
I sat down on a bench.
I didn't decide to.
My legs just stopped.
"How long has he known her?"
"He said they met at a conference last October.
But Sarah — I don't know how much of what he told me is true.
He said it wasn't serious.
That it was just—" Jason stopped himself.
"I don't know what it is.
I only know he lied to you to be with her this week."
October.
Our youngest had just turned two in October.
I'd thrown a small party in the backyard.
Mark had shown up late, said he'd been stuck in traffic.
He'd seemed distracted all evening.
I'd assumed work.
"Does anyone else know?" I asked.
"Not from me."
I watched Lily turn around, scanning the crowd for me.
When she spotted me on the bench, she smiled and waved.
I waved back.
"Sarah, what are you going to do?"
"Right now?" I said.
"I'm going to take my kids to get ice cream."
"And after that?"
I looked at the bench beneath me.
Someone had carved a small heart into the wood, initials inside it.
Old.
Faded.
"I don't know yet," I said.
"But Jason — thank you.
For calling."
I hung up and sat there for another minute.
The park moved around me.
Families.
Strollers.
A couple walking hand in hand.
Music from somewhere I couldn't see.
Then Cody came running toward me, arms out, shouting my name.
I caught him.
Held him longer than he expected.
"Mama, you okay?" he asked, pulling back to look at my face.
"I'm okay, baby."
He studied me the way little kids do, like they can see straight through you.
"You look sad."
"I'm not sad," I said.
"I'm just thinking."
"About what?"
I kissed the top of his head.
"About how much I love you guys."
He accepted that and wriggled free, already running back toward Lily.
I stood up.
Smoothed my shirt.
Put my phone in my pocket.
Mark called again while we were in line for ice cream.
I watched his name light up the screen.
I let it ring out.
Lily noticed.
"Isn't that Dad?"
"It is."
"Aren't you going to answer?"
"Not right now."
She looked at me for a moment.
She was nine.
Old enough to notice things.
Old enough to remember them.
"Is Dad coming to Disney World?" she asked.
I handed Cody a napkin before he could get chocolate on his shirt.
"Not this trip," I said.
She nodded slowly.
Didn't ask anything else.
But she reached over and took my hand while we waited, and she held it all the way to the front of the line.
That night, after the kids were asleep, I sat on the hotel balcony with my phone in my lap.
The Florida air was warm and thick.
Somewhere below, the resort was still lit up, still humming.
I opened my messages.
Eight months of them.
I scrolled back to October.
Read what Mark had written to me that month.
*Stuck in traffic.
Long day.
Don't wait up.*
Then I opened my photos.
Cody's second birthday.
Mark standing at the edge of the yard, a beer in his hand, looking at his phone.
I hadn't noticed at the time.
I noticed now.
I closed the photos.
Set the phone face-down on the table.
And sat there in the warm dark, listening to the sound of my children breathing through the open door.
My phone buzzed once.
A text from Mark.
*We need to talk when I get back.
Please don't do anything you'll regret.*
I read it twice.
May you like
Then I set the phone back down.
He had no idea what I already knew.
