A Mother's Heart, A Cruel Lie

t on my head was walk into Gavyn' s home office. I sat down in his expensive l

s were laughing, Gavyn had his arm around me, and I was looking at him with such open,

orce agreement. My hands were steady. The pain in my hea

ng my finger with his whole hand. Kaelynn, a year old, burying her face in my

ied a year. "I want a family with you so badly, Alex," he' d whispered,

hs. I remembered the sheer, overwhelming effort of raising twins, pouring every bit of my

le world," Kennith used to say, his crayon drawings of our "happy family" taped all over th

ing French lessons. Their new tutor was a recommendation from on

ia

n then. The subtle comparisons, the casual mentions of how "

edia, but I had a hunch. I added "private" and "blog" to the search terms. It took some digging, but

ears of posts, photos, and unsent letters, all dedicat

afar. Her studies in Paris, her art sh

ck. I've found a way to bring her close. Th

er into our home, into our lives, for a year. He had been orch

gant, held at a private club. He was looking at her the way I had always dreamed he would look

heir mother, while simultaneously teaching them to look down on me. Posts detailed his "lessons" with them. "Today I told th

betrayal so vast and meticulously planned that it stole

flying across the keys. I didn' t ask for m

close the browser when I heard the front

uter and stood up, the print

e room, their faces

said, her voice sweet as syrup. It was the s

t," Kennith added,

re than my own life, and felt nothing. The well of my

said, my v

Gavyn came in, his expression a mask of conc

rm. I flinched back as if fr

that I gagged. I clapped a hand over my

flicker of something ugly crossed his fa

in the air, absu

ation. "You did this on purpose, didn't you? After seeing

king about?" I wh

e going to find out right now." He started dragging me tow

e feet slipping on the polished

stal. It crashed to the floor, shattering into a hundred pieces. A sharp

ooling around my foot. He didn't let go of

at ten weeks. I had been devastated. Gavyn had held me, his voice gentle and s

would have been another complication, another tie to

ling me over the broken cer

throom and thrust a preg

d, furious face. For six years, I had thought he was

ith a mixture of pain, rage, and fear

t minutes of my

esult window b