A Perfect Marriage Built On Lies

nded the day I saw my husband in the park with his son-a son

o have me killed in a hit-and-run before vanishing.

all

gnant Morgan. Videos of my husband, David, teaching their son to say "Dada." Even pictures of my

entire family, was a

David's voice, discussing a "Plan B"

incompetent. We can have her comm

ey were ready to lock me in a psyc

sent by my mother, I smiled. I played the part of the loving wife one last time, then

pte

NAH

ntil I saw my husband playing with his son in a park-a son I

t tighten. It was our annual school picnic, and I was watching my first-graders ch

when I

to his elbows, showing the strong forearms I knew so well. He was crouched down, his expression one of pure, unadulterated joy. A littl

But he'd always been so firm about us not having any. "The world is too complicated, Hannah," he'd say, stroking my h

cold shuffle of foster care, being found by my birth family, the Wallaces, and

e woman

em. She stood up, her hand shielding her eyes from

host clawing its

as M

o, my parents, Robert and Eleanor Wallace, had sat me down and told me Morgan was gone. A tragic car accident on a winding country

he truth came out, I'd naively handed all the evidence to my parents and David, my then-fiancé, trusting them to handle it. They told me she was gone

d believ

on his arm. He smiled at her, a soft, intimate smile he usually reserved for me after we made love. He leaned in and kissed her. Not a peck on

dd

s of my marriage-the perfect dinners, the charity galas, the quiet nights curled up together-fl

child. The deep, unshakable sadness I sometimes saw in his e

guilt. It

stifle a sob. I hid behind the thick trunk of the o

ily. A secret,

. The convenient, forgiving, true

rk of the tree to keep from collapsing. The sandwich I'd eaten for lu

screen lit up with a picture of my

oice a strangled

s the picnic going?" Her voice was smooth as silk

lders. Morgan laughed, linking her arm through his. Th

. An idea, cold and sharp, cut t

m the Financial Times just called one of the other teachers, asking about some rumor... somethi

e other end of the line. A silenc

its warmth. It was sharp, brittle. "That's just nonsense. Don't speak to

" I wh

ll David right now. You just

ne wen

handed the boy to Morgan, his expression turning grim. He said somethi

me. Coming to ma

e

h my jeans. The world wasn't tilted anymore. It had

ed again. A t

g a little under the weathe

h bubbled in my c

tire world, were now