I stayed there for a long time, listening to the silence pressing in around me.
I cried until it felt like my ribs were bruised from the inside—not only for myself, but for what morning would bring. For the questions my kids would ask. Questions I couldn’t lie about, yet couldn’t fully answer without breaking something inside them.
**
At exactly six, my youngest climbed into bed beside me, dragging her blanket behind her like a cape. She curled against my side.
“Mommy,” Rose murmured sleepily. “Is Daddy making pancakes?”
My heart cracked open.
“Not today, baby,” I whispered, kissing her curls.
I forced myself out of bed before I could fall apart again. Breakfast still had to be made. Lunchboxes had to be packed. Socks had disappeared. One shoe had vanished entirely, somehow ruining two children’s mornings at once.
A few hours later, while I was pouring milk, my phone rang.
Mark—Cole’s coworker. The same man my kids trusted enough to climb on like he was playground equipment.
I lifted the phone to my ear. “Mark, I can’t—”
“Paige,” he cut in. His voice was tight, controlled, but beneath it I could hear the panic. “You need to come here. Now.”
“Where?” I froze mid-pour. “What’s happening?”
“I’m at the office,” he said. “Cole’s in a glass conference room. HR’s here. Darren too.”
My stomach dropped. “What did Cole do?”
Mark hesitated briefly. “The company card. It got flagged.”
I gripped the edge of the counter. “Flagged for what? I didn’t even know he had access to it.”
“Hotel charges. Expensive gifts. All connected to the trainer from the office gym. Alyssa. She’s technically a vendor through the wellness program, and compliance has been auditing Cole’s expenses for weeks. They didn’t know it was an affair until last night. They just knew he was draining money.”
My stomach twisted.
“The company phone plan caught it first,” Mark continued. “Then the charges lined up with the same dates. They don’t need rumors about romance. They’ve got receipts.”
I closed my eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”
Mark let out a slow breath. “Because Cole thinks he can spin it. He called you ‘emotional.’ Said he could always come back home because he knows how to ‘handle you.’”
I looked at the breakfast table, at my kids wandering around deciding what to do with their day.
“I have six children, Mark. Leah is twelve. I can’t hide something like this from her.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “That’s exactly why you need to come.”
I hit mute.
My youngest tugged gently on my shirt.
“Mommy?”
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