"Until it did."
The bedroom absorbed the admission the way carpet absorbs a spill — quietly, thoroughly, with no intention of giving it back.
Aaron walked to the bathroom door and back. He pressed his palm to the dresser beside the wedding photograph and did not look at it. "You slept with him."
"Yes."
"While married to me."
"Yes."
"And then you put him on our daughter's pickup list."
Simone flinched as if he had raised a hand, though he had not. "That part is not what you think. Isaiah is — he has a niece Lily's age. He knows how to talk to children. When my mother stopped being a reliable backup and your sister moved, I panicked about the list. The school sent a reminder. I was at work. Isaiah offered. I said yes because I was drowning in the lie already and adding his name felt like one more brick in a wall I had already built too high to see over. Thursday was a mistake of logistics, not a plan to hurt you in public."