My Husband's Other Life

I stared at the texts from the bakery.

I read them again and again, trying to convince myself I had gotten it wrong. My eyes started to sting, but the doubt wouldn't go away.

Yesterday morning, Miles told me he had been sent out of town on short notice. He held me for a long moment, guilt written all over his face.

"Valerie, I'm sorry. I can't be there for your birthday again this year."

I smiled and shook my head.

"I'm turning 30. It's not exactly a milestone worth celebrating."

He had missed my birthday three years in a row. I had gotten used to how busy he was.

But the delivery receipt in my hand made it impossible not to think twice.

Maplecrest Apartments… That was right next door.

By the time I came back to myself, I was already standing at the entrance to Maplecrest.

The security guard gave me a curious look. I opened my mouth to say I was there to see someone.

Before I could speak, a child's laughter drifted over from behind me.

The moment I saw Miles Harrington's face, every bit of courage I had drained away.

I ducked down behind a row of shrubs and watched the family of three, laughing contentedly. I felt like a trespasser, stealing a glimpse of something that had nothing to do with me.

My hands trembled as I pulled out my phone and texted Miles.

[Where are you?]

The reply came almost instantly.

[On a business trip in Murthburg.]

The words cut into me like knives, over and over.

I was here to catch them in the act, but in the end, I turned and left.

I went home and sank into the couch, my eyes lifting to the wedding photo on the wall.

"I want everyone who walks in here to see how happy we are."

I could still hear him saying it when he hung the frame.

I stood up and threw it to the floor with everything I had. It shattered the second it hit, just like our marriage.

I stared at the broken glass scattered across the floor, feeling like something inside me had been hollowed out.

The ringing of my phone cut through the silence.

I picked it up. Miles's voice came through, tight with concern.

"Why didn't you reply to my texts? Is something wrong?"

The questions I wanted to ask twisted and changed before they left my mouth.

"Miles… Can you come back and spend my birthday with me?"

There was a long pause.

I didn't say anything. I just waited.

When he finally spoke, there was a strain in his voice.

"I'm out of town. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, okay?"

Then, faint but clear, a little boy's voice came through. He was calling for his dad. Miles muttered something about his boss needing him and ended the call.

That one word, Dad, kept echoing in my ears.

Earlier this year, I found out I was pregnant. I had been waiting for that child for so long.

When I told Miles, his reaction felt off. Later, he said he had just been too overwhelmed with happiness to process it.

The next day, I went in for a checkup. On my way down the stairs, I slipped and fell.

The baby didn't make it.

Miles took a week off to stay home and look after me.