My husband had another woman.
Worse, she was somehow involved in our daughter’s wedding.
When Emma arrived at the venue, I pulled her into a small dressing room before the photographer could steal her away.
“We need to talk.”
She was already in her robe, her hair half done.
“Mom, what happened?”
“Your father knows the woman who called the bakery.”
Emma’s face changed.
“He was there with her.”
“Mom—”
“I think your father is having an affair.”
“Dad isn’t having an affair.”
Her answer came too quickly.
I stared at her.
“How can you possibly know that?”
Emma looked away.
“Because I just know.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Before I could press her, David walked through the door.
“I’m telling Emma about Laura,” I said.
His expression changed.
“Laura, please.”
Emma looked at him.
“Dad, you need to tell her.”
I stared between them.
