Chapter 2: The Boy on the Screen
At first, I thought I was dreaming.
I lay perfectly still, staring at the darkness above me while the words replayed in my head.
Daddy's here.
Daniel had never called himself Daddy.
We had spent years talking about what we would name our children, arguing playfully over whether he would be the strict parent or the one who secretly slipped them cookies before dinner.
After our second miscarriage, those conversations disappeared.
I had assumed we had both buried that part of ourselves.
But the voice downstairs was unmistakably his.
I slipped out of bed and put on my robe. The hallway floor creaked beneath my bare feet, so I moved slowly, gripping the banister as I descended the stairs.
The living room was illuminated by the television and the blue glow of Daniel's laptop.
I stopped before reaching the final step.
My husband was sitting on the couch, smiling at a video call.
Not the tired, distracted smile I had received at dinner.
This smile was warm and effortless. His shoulders were relaxed, and his eyes shone with an affection I hadn't seen directed at me in months.
On the screen sat a little boy with dark curls and flushed cheeks. He looked about four years old. A stuffed dinosaur rested against his chest, and a thermometer lay on the table beside him.
A woman sat next to him.
She had long auburn hair, a cream-colored sweater, and the comfortable expression of someone who belonged in Daniel's private world.
"You're still awake, buddy?"" Daniel asked.
The boy sniffled.
"My tummy hurts, Daddy.""
Daniel leaned toward the screen.
"Did you take your medicine?""
"Mommy gave it to me. But I want you.""
My fingers tightened around the banister.
The woman stroked the boy's hair.
"He's had a fever since dinner. I tried calling you earlier, but you didn't answer.""
"I'm sorry, Courtney," Daniel said.
"I was upstairs.""
Courtney.
I had never heard that name in eleven years of marriage.
The boy pressed his face close to the camera.
"Daddy, are you coming tomorrow? I have a fever, and I want you to hold me.""
Daniel's expression softened.
"Of course I'm coming, buddy. I'll be there in the morning.""
"Promise?""
"I promise.""
The boy smiled weakly.
Then Courtney tilted her head.
"Did you have to stay upstairs with her again?""
My heart stopped.
Daniel glanced toward the staircase.
"Keep your voice down.""
"I'm asking a question.""
"Yes, Courtney. Melanie wanted us to sleep together for the anniversary. I had to, so she wouldn't get suspicious.""
I grabbed the banister with both hands.
The anniversary dinner. The promise to stay. His hand resting in mine while I fell asleep believing my husband still wanted to save our marriage.
It had all been a performance.
Courtney folded her arms.
"How long do I have to keep explaining to Landon why his father can't stay here every night?""
"I'm handling it.""
"You've been handling it for four years, Daniel.""
Four years.
The number struck me harder than the betrayal itself.
The boy was four.
Daniel had another family while I was still recovering from the second miscarriage. While I lay awake at night wondering whether my body had failed us. While I sat beside him at Christmas dinners and imagined what it would be like to have a child opening presents beneath our tree.
He had been a father all along.
Just not to a child we had made together.
"I said I'm handling it," Daniel repeated.
Courtney's face hardened.
"You said you'd buy us a proper house. You said we'd stop hiding. You said Landon wouldn't have to whisper when he called you.""
"I know what I said.""
"Then do something about it.""
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
"The money is the problem. The business has been struggling, and I can't keep pulling cash out of it.""
"Then use Melanie's house.""
My mother's house.
Even from the stairs, I felt the room tilt.
My mother had left me her small two-bedroom house when she died. It sat in a quiet neighborhood with a white picket fence and a lemon tree beside the front porch. She had bought it after twenty years of working two jobs, and she had told me that no matter what happened in life, I would always have somewhere safe to go.
I had refused to sell it when Daniel suggested we move into a larger property.
Instead, I rented it out and kept it in my name.
It was the one thing I had never mixed with our joint finances.
Courtney leaned closer to the screen.
"You told me she trusts you.""
"She does.""
"Then get her to sign the loan papers. You said the house would secure the money we need.""
Daniel lowered his voice.
"Melanie doesn't know anything about this. I need to do it carefully.""
I felt sick.
They weren't merely hiding a child.
They were planning to use my inheritance to finance their future.
A floorboard creaked beneath my foot.
Daniel turned sharply.
I froze.
His gaze traveled toward the stairs, but I pressed myself against the wall before he could see me.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then the boy's voice broke the silence.
"Daddy? Who are you looking at?""
Daniel turned back to the laptop.
"Nobody, buddy. I thought I heard something.""
Courtney narrowed her eyes.
"You'd better be careful. If she finds out before you get the money, she'll ruin everything.""
"She won't find out.""
I covered my mouth with my hand.
The man who had once promised to protect me was discussing how to steal my inheritance.
And then I heard another door open.
A soft shuffle came from the hallway beside the living room.
"Daniel?""
Patricia's voice.
I turned my head.
My mother-in-law emerged in her dressing gown, carrying a glass of water. Her silver hair was pinned back, and she wore the same slippers I had bought her the previous Christmas.
She didn't look surprised to find Daniel awake.
Instead, she walked straight toward him.
"Is that my precious Landon?"" she asked, leaning toward the screen.
The little boy's face lit up.
"Grandma!""
Patricia smiled so broadly that the corners of her eyes crinkled.
"How is my handsome boy? Did you take your medicine?""
"Yes, Grandma.""
"Good. You need to get better before your father takes you to the park.""
I stopped breathing.
Grandma.
She knew.
The woman I had driven to doctor's appointments. The woman whose prescriptions I collected every month. The woman who had sat at my kitchen table and told me I needed to stop being so sensitive about not having grandchildren.
She had been a grandmother for four years.
She had simply chosen to let me believe I was the disappointment in the family.
Patricia reached for Daniel's shoulder.
"Is Courtney still upset about the house?""
"She's impatient.""
"She has every right to be," Patricia replied.
"A child needs stability. You can't expect them to live like this forever.""
Courtney's voice came through the laptop.
"I'm not asking for a mansion. I want a place where Landon can have his own bedroom and his father doesn't have to sneak through the back door.""
Patricia nodded sympathetically.
"Of course, dear.""
Then she said the words that made something cold and steady settle inside me.
"First, Daniel has to get the loan. The house is in Melanie's name, but she always does what you ask. Tell her it's to invest in the business.""
Daniel sighed.
"And if she wants to read the documents?""
"Then tell her the bank needs everything signed quickly. She's never questioned you about money before.""
Courtney looked at him.
"What if she refuses?""
Patricia waved away the concern.
"She won't. Melanie has spent eleven years trying to prove she's a good wife. She'll do whatever Daniel tells her if she thinks it will save their marriage.""
The boy coughed.
All three adults immediately turned their attention to him.
Patricia cooed at the screen. Daniel promised to visit in the morning. Courtney reminded him to bring the medicine he had purchased the previous week.
They discussed the child's fever as naturally as any family might.
And I stood in the darkness, watching the family I had unknowingly financed with my love.
My husband finally closed the laptop.
"Go back to bed, Mom," he told Patricia.
"I'll take care of the rest.""
Patricia patted his cheek.
"You always do, sweetheart.""
She turned toward the hallway.
I hurried up the stairs, barely daring to breathe. I reached the bedroom and slipped beneath the covers just as her footsteps began climbing.
Seconds later, the bedroom door opened.
Patricia peered inside.
"Melanie?""
I forced my breathing to remain slow.
She waited.
Then she quietly closed the door.
I stared into the darkness, my cheeks wet and my hands trembling beneath the blankets.
I wanted to wake Daniel and demand answers.
I wanted to throw every glass in the house against the wall.
I wanted to ask Patricia how she could accept my kindness while secretly celebrating the existence of a child she had deliberately hidden from me.
But beneath the hurt, another thought began to take shape.
If I confronted them now, they would deny everything.
They would call me emotional. They would tell me I had misunderstood. They would destroy whatever evidence they could find before I knew what they had done.
And if they were willing to steal my mother's house, I could no longer assume they would stop at money.
At 2:03 a.m., Daniel returned to the bedroom.
He moved quietly, believing I was asleep.
The mattress dipped as he lay beside me.
Then his phone vibrated.
He read the message, and the light illuminated his face.
I kept my eyes closed.
A moment later, he leaned over and kissed my forehead.
"Happy anniversary, Mel," he whispered.
I nearly flinched.
Instead, I waited until his breathing slowed.
Then I reached for my phone beneath the pillow and opened the voice recorder.
I didn't know whether I would ever be brave enough to confront my husband.
But I knew one thing.
I would never again let him decide what I deserved to know.
The next morning, Daniel placed a cup of coffee beside me and smiled.
"There's something I want to talk to you about, sweetheart.""
May you like
He pulled a folder from his briefcase.
And when I saw the name of the bank printed across the top, I understood that the betrayal I had overheard was only the beginning.
