“The kids.”
“My job.”
“All of it.”
“Good.”
I said.
“You should be.”
She flinched.
I lowered my voice.
“Go to dinner.”
“I will take care of our children.”
“That’s what I have been doing all week.”
“I’ll come back afterward.”
“No.”
She stared.
“What?”
“You are not coming into our room tonight after they're asleep to have some whispered argument over them.”
“Then when do we talk?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Before the kids wake up.”
“Where?”
“Lobby.”
“Six-thirty.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Okay.”
I turned.
“Mike.”
I stopped.
“I am sorry.”
I looked at her.
“I believe you're sorry right now.”
“That is all I can give you.”
I went back inside.
Sophie asked:
“Mom gone?”
“Yes.”
“Work?”
“Yes.”
She sighed dramatically.
“Adults work too much.”
Curtis looked at me.
I almost laughed at the accuracy.
We ate.
The burger tasted like nothing.
Afterward, we walked to Boston Harbor.
Cold air.
Lights reflecting on black water.
Sophie ran ahead every few feet, then remembered she was supposed to stay close and ran back.
Curtis walked beside me.
For twenty minutes, he said nothing.
Then:
“Mom cheated.”
I stopped.
He did not phrase it as a question.
Sophie was thirty feet ahead watching a ferry.
I lowered my voice.
“Curtis.”
“I saw her face.”
“You saw yours.”
“Dad.”
I looked at him.
He was fifteen.
Not five.
Still a child.
But old enough to understand adult betrayal without me spelling it out.
“I found something that means your mother and I have a serious problem.”
He stared.
“That's not an answer.”
“It is the answer you need tonight.”
His jaw tightened.
“I’m not stupid.”
“I know.”
“Was there another guy?”
I closed my eyes briefly.
Then:
“Yes.”
Curtis looked toward the water.
I continued quickly.
“I’m not giving you details.”
“Why?”
“Because she is your mother.”
“What she did to me and what she did to our marriage are adult matters.”
“You are allowed to be hurt.”
“You are allowed to be angry.”
“You do not need to become my witness, my therapist, or my teammate against her.”
He looked at me.
“You're defending her?”
“No.”
“I am protecting you from having to carry our marriage.”
That quieted him.
He shoved his hands deeper into his coat.
“How long?”
“I’m not discussing that.”
“Dad.”
“No.”
I kept my voice calm.
“One day, when you’re older, if you still need answers, maybe your mother and I can decide what is appropriate.”
“Tonight, you need to know one thing.”
“What?”
“Whatever happens between us is not your responsibility.”
Curtis stared ahead.
Then:
“I’m still mad at her.”
“I know.”
“I don't want to talk to her.”
“Then don't tonight.”
“Will we get divorced?”
My chest tightened.
“I don't know.”
“That was the truth.”
The word divorce already existed in my mind.
But I would not make promises in shock.
Curtis nodded.
Sophie ran back.
“Look.”