She closed her eyes.
“I was panicking.”
“You keep describing your feelings as if they were external weather.”
“I was there too.”
“You made decisions.”
Claire whispered:
“I know.”
Marcus looked toward the ceiling.
“What did you tell Ethan Daniel was doing here?”
“Visiting.”
“And the nights?”
“He thought Daniel slept in the chair sometimes.”
“In our bedroom.”
Claire nodded miserably.
Marcus laughed without humor.
“Did you sleep with him while Ethan was home?”
She looked away.
That was an answer.
Marcus felt sick.
“Where was Ethan?”
“Asleep.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
“Did he ever walk in?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“He knows Daniel stays in Mommy’s room.”
Claire said nothing.
Marcus looked at her.
“You have made our son the witness to secrets he cannot understand.”
“I know.”
“He thought telling me about a toy car might get him in trouble.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know.”
Claire cried.
Marcus took his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling Melissa.”
Claire frowned.
“Why?”
“Because Ethan needs an adult tonight who is not part of this mess.”
“I’m his mother.”
“Yes.”
“And I am his father.”
“But neither of us should make him manage our emotions while we figure out what happens next.”
Claire stared.
“You’re asking me to leave?”
“For tonight.”
“Marcus.”
“Tonight.”
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“I do not care.”
She flinched.
Marcus regretted the cruelty slightly.
Not enough to change the answer.
“Hotel.”
“Your sister.”
“Anywhere.”
Claire whispered:
“You’re taking my son.”
Marcus looked at her sharply.
“No.”
“I am keeping him in the home where he woke up this morning believing both his parents were safe.”
“Do not turn this into me stealing him.”
Claire cried.
“Can I say good night?”
Marcus thought.
“Yes.”
“But you do not tell him anything about paternity.”
“Nothing about Daniel.”
“Nothing about us.”
“Just good night.”
She nodded.
Melissa arrived forty minutes later.
She had been Ethan’s babysitter since he was three and lived twelve minutes away.
She entered, looked at Marcus’s face, and immediately stopped asking questions.
“Where’s Ethan?”
“Upstairs.”
“Okay.”
“Can you stay tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
Claire came down carrying a small overnight bag.
Melissa glanced between them.
Realized enough.
Said nothing.
Claire approached Marcus.
“I’m leaving.”
He nodded.
“Can we talk tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“You promise?”
Marcus looked at her.
“I do not make promises casually anymore.”
She absorbed that.
Then left.
Marcus went upstairs.
Ethan was lying in bed.
The remote-control car sat on the nightstand.
Its blue body caught the soft light.
Marcus paused at the doorway.
Ethan opened his eyes.
“Dad?”
“Yeah.”
“Is Mom mad?”
Marcus sat beside him.
“No.”
“Are you mad?”
Marcus thought.
“Yes.”
“At me?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
Marcus looked directly at him.
“Never for telling me the truth.”
Ethan nodded.
He stared at the toy.
Then: