She had known. Of course she had known. Melissa had been living in her house that summer.
He walked across the patio toward her. He did not decide to; his legs simply went. Jenna did not back away. She stood with her hands at her sides and let him come.
"How long," he said quietly, so no one else would hear.
"Eric."
"How long have you known?"
Jenna's chin trembled, but she held his gaze. "Since before he was born," she said. "Since she found out she was pregnant. She called me. She was terrified."
"Sixteen years."
"Seventeen, almost." She swallowed. "I told her she had to tell you. I told her so many times, Eric. And then Tyler was born, and you were… you were so happy, and you'd stopped drinking, and every year it got harder, and then it just…"