Seven Years, A Secret Family

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st room, staring at the ceiling, every nerve ending frayed. The quiet was unsettling, li

ming softly, meticulously arranging a plate of pancakes. Her hair was pulled back in a loose bu

t, almost too bright. "Good m

o gag. She looked almost... innocent. Like a demure housewife. But I knew

iamond necklace Colt had given me for our fifth anniversary. He had worn it around my neck, whisper

a similar one for my mother, a smaller version. He had refused, saying it was

in my gut. I felt like a fool. A naive, trusting fool. How many others knew? How many of Colt' s colleagu

y trust. If Colt wanted a child so badly, he could have told me. We could have adopted. We could have explored oth

n, the way he' d cradled the boy, it burned like a brand. I wanted him t

, his uniform still crisp despite the events of last night. He exchang

on? You' re up. How are you feeling?" His voice was l

alm. "Just wondering what exactly is going on here

. Chelsey and Jemal, they' re just... distant relatives. She' s had some trouble

"Family obligations? Is that what you call it, Colt? A six-year-old

e. This isn' t what it looks like." He to

? What does it look like, Colt? Because from where I' m standi

And after what happened in Afghanistan... I thought... I thought you couldn' t. I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to secure the f

. This was the man everyone believed was so devoted to me, so madly in lo

nto the kitchen, his face red and tear-streaked. "Daddy! Sh

ted, his lower lip trembling. Colt knelt, pulling the boy into a tight hug, his expres

fled out of the kitchen, cas

a child. He doesn' t understand." She even dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. Then, she looke

rm around Chelsey, pulling her closer. "It' s okay, Chels. I' m here." He even wiped a

t like I couldn' t breathe. My perfect husband, comforting his

ldn't bear to look at him, at them, a single moment lon

ming the door shut with all my might. I fumbled with

y. "Emerson! Open the door! Let me explain! I' ll send them aw

or was welcome against my burning skin. Send them away? He would just send

olt' s beautiful, elegant handwriting. It read:

ching void. Love. He spoke of love, while his

house visible through the trees. A light was on in the master bedr

n' s voice, low and husky. Chelsey. And then Colt' s voice, distinct. "You kn

led backward, clutching my mouth to stifle a scream. A means to an

e toilet. My body convulsed, heaving out everything, tr

sgust. My eyes were bloodshot, my hair disheveled. I looked like a stranger. But in

lve replaced the agony. I wasn' t a means to an end. I wa

purple. A new day. A new beginning. I would not cower. I would not beg. I