“Sweetheart, no adult should ask you to keep a secret that makes you afraid.”
He looked at the forks.
“Daddy said every guard is a promise.”
“A promise of what?”
Jamie hesitated before whispering, “That he’ll still come back.”
A chill ran through me.
“Come back from where?”
He shook his head and cried harder.
“I don’t know.”
I left the forks in place, tucked Jamie into bed, and called Mason from the hallway.
He answered on the 3rd ring.
“I found them,” I said.
Silence.
“All the missing forks are under Jamie’s mattress. He says you told him they were promises that you would come back.”
“Claire, let me explain.”
“Then explain.”
“It started as a game.”
“You told our son you might go away, then made him hide it from me.”
“I didn’t mean for it to become this.”
“What is happening, Mason?”
He exhaled shakily.
“There is no other woman, and I am not abandoning you. The apartment and the trip are connected to work, but I need to explain everything in person.”
“What apartment?”
He went silent.
My pulse quickened.
“Mason, what apartment?”
“Please,” he said, his voice breaking. “Let me come home Sunday and tell you everything.”
I had rarely heard him beg for anything.
“Sunday,” I said. “No more lies.”
After hanging up, I went into our bedroom and opened his side of the closet.
Mason handled the mortgage, utilities, and credit cards. Years earlier, he had switched everything to paperless billing, so I rarely saw the statements.
Behind a stack of jeans, I found a manila folder.
Inside were overdue credit card bills, a warning letter from our mortgage lender, printed job applications, and a provisional offer for the 6-month project.
Beneath them was an application for a small studio apartment near the worksite.
Only Mason’s name appeared on it.
I sat on the edge of the bed, unable to breathe.
He had hidden our financial problems, applied for work in another city, and found somewhere to live without telling me.
I called my sister, Paige.
When I told her everything, her voice hardened.
“It sounds like he’s preparing to leave.”
“He says the apartment is connected to work.”
“Then why hide it?”
I had no answer.
After we hung up, I sent Mason a message.
I found the bills, the job offer, and the apartment application. I don’t know who you are anymore.
He called immediately.
When I answered, he was crying.
“I am not leaving you,” he said. “Please believe that much.”
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