Seven Years, A Secret Family

ated Delta Force operator. The injury left me

with another woman and a six-year-old boy who l

t his secret life. They all watched as he paraded his mistress, Chelsey, and their son, Jem

ed me in our cellar for three days, a punishment for a crime I didn't commit. "He's not a

ted away, filled

ce papers are filed, Em," she whispered fiercely. "It's done." I looked back at Colt, s

pte

son

bye just a few days ago, his uniform sharp, his eyes full of promises. This Colt was different. He wa

perfectly styled hair. He looked just like Colt. Same unruly da

oy squealed, bouncing

a

taurant, though I knew no one else heard it but me. My husband, Captain Colt Patrick, dec

leaned down to kiss the boy's forehead. A woman, slender and pretty, sat across from them

s, and in that fleeting glance, I saw a tenderness that had slowl

es, were wide and curious. He tilted his head, a mirror i

training exercise" was a lie. Each heartfelt call, each declaratio

tan. I' d taken a bullet for Colt, shielded him with my own body during a botched extraction. The doctors saved me,

my bedside. "My brave, beautiful Emerson. You are all I need. Always."

, now tasted like ash. The

hand. My head throbbed. I felt dizzy, the fancy restaur

little to clear my head. My legs felt like jelly, each st

shed right

' re going!" Bernice' s voice, shar

er fiery red hair a beacon in the dim streetlights. Her eyes, usuall

een a ghost." She reached out, her hand gen

ot and uncontrollable, streamed down my fa

ned?" Her voice was softer

on, Bernice. A little boy. He' s six." T

, against a generic military backdrop, with a text: "Thinking of m

pped from my numb fingers, clattering to the pavement. A fr

Every 'training exercise.' Every 'miss you' mess

he tears blurring my vision. The sky cracked open, unleashing a torrential

gious name. I had heard the whispers, the veiled questions about children. But Colt always dismiss

his family estate, his hand always finding mine. He was my pro

for us. He stood up to his formidable mother, threatened to resign his commission, to cut ties completely

orate lie. My heart was not ju

on the screen. I stared at it, a mixture

cing my voice to be

everything okay?" His voice, usually so comforting, no

," I lied, the words tasting lik

here in a few hours, just need to wrap things up here." The concern i

ickly, perhaps too quickly. "Bernic

a soft chuckle. "Good. Tell Bernice I said than

anaged, my voice

rd a faint, high-pitched voice in the

t punched the air out of my lungs: "Just..

ne wen

felt a cold dread seep into my bones, colder than the rain. Colleagues? Sweet pea?

I smashed the phone against the wall, t

rumpled to the wet pavement, my body racked with sobs. It wasn' t just a secret;

. "Oh, Em. My poor, poor Em." Her voice was laced with an anger

fied in my mind. This wasn't just heartbr