“Our dad lives in another house too,” said the boy, and in that moment, I knew his “business trips” were lies.
“I wont wear that dress, and thats final!” Victoria stamped her foot, arms crossed tight over her chest. “It itches, and the collars horrid!”
“But darling, we bought it specially for Grandmothers anniversary,” Anne replied, forcing calm into her voice though irritation simmered beneath. “Shell be hurt if you turn up in jeans.”
“Let her be hurt! Im tenI decide what I wear!”
Anne closed her eyes and counted slowly to five. A tantrum was the last thing she needed. The day had already been longa rush at work, frantic shopping, baking a cake for her mother-in-laws celebration. And Michael, as always, was away on business when she needed him most.
“Vicky, listen” she began, but six-year-old Charlie burst into the room, clutching a toy car.
“Mum, look what I drew!” He thrust a crumpled sheet at her. “Its our family!”
Anne glanced at the scribblesherself with a wide smile, Victoria with her pigtails, little Charlie, and Michael, drawn twice, on either side of the page.
“Lovely, sweetheart,” she murmured absently. “But whys Daddy there twice?”
“Hes not,” Charlie said, as if stating the obvious. “Thats Daddy in our house, and Daddy in the other house where he lives when hes not here.”
A cold shiver ran down Annes spine. She studied the drawing againtwo figures of Michael, one beside them, the other by a rough sketch of a house at the pages edge.
“What other house, Charlie?” she asked carefully, keeping her tone light.
“The one with flowers in the window and a cat,” he shrugged. “He took me there when you were at work. But its a secretDaddy said not to tell.”
Victoria, the forgotten dress abandoned, gaped. “Charlie, stop fibbing! Daddy goes on business trips, not to other houses!”
“Im not!” His lip jutted out. “We watched cartoons and had pizza. And Auntie Laura made us hot chocolate.”
“Auntie who?” The room seemed to tilt.
“Daddys friend. She lives there.” Charlie had already lost interest, rolling his car along the floor. “Can I go watch telly?”
Anne nodded, speechless. Victorias frightened eyes darted between her brother and mother.
“Mum, he must be confused,” she said uncertainly. “Daddy wouldnt”
“Go to your room, Vicky,” Anne cut in softly. “Wear what you like. The dress doesnt matter.”
Once alone, Anne sank onto the sofa, her thoughts spinning, heart pounding. Michael, her Michael, with his fortnightly “business trips”? The man whod spun such convincing tales, bringing back souvenirs from cities she now doubted hed visited?
She remembered the first flicker of suspicion six months agohis late nights, the sudden increase in trips, though hed rarely traveled before. Once, shed found a café receipt from their own town dated for a day he was meant to be in Manchester. Hed claimed an early return, saying he hadnt wanted to disturb them.
Shed believed him. Or made herself believe.
Anne stood and moved to the bureau where they kept important papers. Flipping through the billsphone, internet, utilitiesshe paused at an unfamiliar one. A receipt for services at an address in Camden, under Michaels name.
Her hands trembled. Proof. Foolish to hope a child would lie about such things.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Michael: “How are my girls? Counting the days till Im home. Love you.”
Anne stared at the screen. What to reply? Confront him now? Wait?
“Alls well,” she typed finally, then set the phone aside.
The next two days passed in a haze. She functioned mechanicallywork, children, choresbut her mind circled the truth. Charlie said no more of the “other house,” while Victoria watched her with uneasy eyes.
On the evening of his return, Anne sat at the kitchen table, cold tea untouched before her. The children were asleep.
“Home!” Michaels cheerful voice rang out as he entered, flowers in one hand, suitcase in the other. “Missed you all terribly!”
He leaned in for a kiss, but Anne pulled back. His smile faltered.
“Whats wrong?”
“Charlie drew a picture,” she said evenly. “Our family. With you in two houses.”
Michael stilled, then laughed awkwardly. “Kids imagine the oddest things”
“Stop.” Her voice was steel. “I found the bills, Michael. For the flat in Camden. And Charlie mentioned Auntie Laura. Quite specific for imagination, dont you think?”
The colour drained from his face. He set the flowers down, shoulders slumping.
“Anne, I can explain”
“Explain what?” Her anger rose. “That youve another family? That your trips were lies? That you took our son to meet your mistress?”
“It wasnt meant to be like this,” he ran a hand through his hair. “It started as nothing, but Laura fell pregnant, and”
“She has a child?” The floor seemed to drop away.
“Sophie. Shes four.”
Four years. While Anne had raised their children, cooked his meals, waited faithfully, hed been living another life.
“Why stay?” Her voice was eerily calm. “Why not leave?”
“I couldnt choose,” he spread his hands helplessly. “I love our children. I love you. But I love them too. Its like two worlds”
“No.” She cut him off. “I dont understand lying for years, looking me in the eye and saying you missed me when youd just come from her.”
“I did miss you,” he reached for her hand, but she recoiled. “Anne, I never wanted to hurt you. I didnt want to lose either of you.”
“And now?” Her smile was bitter. “Now the secrets out?”
He said nothing. The clock ticked loudly in the silence.
“Youve already chosen,” Anne stood. “When you decided to live two lives. When you lied. When you took our son to her. Pack your things. Go live properly in that other home.”
“Anne, please”
“No. The children are asleep. Dont wake them. Come tomorrow and tell them the truth. They deserve that much.”
As he gathered his belongings, Anne watched, numb. At the door, she asked, “Why Charlie? Why not Vicky?”
“Hes younger,” Michael avoided her gaze. “I thought he wouldnt remember or tell. Vicky shed have known.”
“She did know,” Anne whispered. “She just didnt want to believe it.”
When the door closed, she slid to the floor, finally letting the tears fall. The pain was sharp, but beneath it, reliefno more pretending, no more waiting for lies to unravel.
Morning brought Charlie clambering onto her bed.
“Mum, wheres Daddy? He was sposed to be home.”
“Hell come today to talk to you,” Anne held him close, breathing in his little-boy scent.
“Was he cross about my drawing?” Charlies eyes welled. “I didnt mean to tell the secret”
“You did nothing wrong,” she smoothed his hair. “Telling the truth is always good. Never be afraid to tell me, understand?”
Victoria appeared in the doorway, taking in the empty space where her father should have been.
“Hes gone for good?”
“Hell visit,” Anne said gently. “But he wont live here anymore. He has another family.”
“I knew,” Victorias lips tightened. “I saw a photo on his phone. A woman with a little girl. He said it was his cousin.”
The ache deepenedher daughter had carried this alone, shielding her.
“Come here,” Anne patted the bed. “No school today. Well have pancakes, watch films.”
“But what about?”
“One day wont hurt.” She managed a small smile. “Weve earned it.”
As the children nestled close, Anne held them tight, resolve hardening. It would be hardfinancially, emotionallybut shed manage. For them. For herself.
Life didnt end with betrayal. This was just a new chapter, painful but honest. And in it, Anne would no longer be the fool of anothers lies.
“Mum will we be alright without Dad?” Victoria whispered.
“Of course,” Anne kissed her forehead. “Were a proper family. No more secrets.”
Charlie, oblivious, chattered about dreams of dragons. Life went onchanged, but theirs. And for the first time in years, Anne breathed freely, unburdened by deception.
The road ahead wouldnt be easy, but this morning, with her children in her arms, she knew shed made the right choice. Whatever came next, it would be built on truth.
