She did not pretend to misunderstand. “The affair started a little over two years ago.” Nathan looked at the ceiling briefly, jaw working. “And before that?”
“We were close. Too close. But nothing physical.” “So he was the guy checking on the house.”
“Yes.” “The guy fixing the fence when I couldn't be here.” “Yes.”
“The guy I thanked.” Emily covered her mouth with one hand. Nathan's mind began furnishing the betrayal with old memories. Marcus sending him a photo after a windstorm: Got your fence back up, man.
No worries. Marcus helping Emily move a new washer into the laundry room. Marcus texting after Nathan's birthday: We made sure she wasn't alone tonight. Nathan had read that line and felt grateful.
He walked past Emily into the living room because standing near the door suddenly made him feel trapped. His eyes moved over the gray sectional, stone fireplace, and coffee table. A basket of toddler toys sat tucked beside the couch. There was a small rubber cup on the lower shelf.
Near the staircase, almost hidden by the angle, stood a white plastic baby gate folded against the wall. “How long has he lived here?” Nathan asked. Emily's answer was barely audible.
“Since he was born.” Nathan turned toward her. “You had a baby in my house.”
“Our house.” The correction escaped her before she realized how it sounded. Nathan stared. Emily shook her head quickly.
“I'm sorry. That isn't what I meant.” “What did you mean?”
“I mean I live here too. I was here. Alone. For years.”
“And that makes this make sense?” “No.” “Then don't explain it yet.”