“Daddy lives in another house too,” the boy said, and thats when I realised his “business trips” were a lie.
“Im not wearing that dressend of discussion!” Emily stomped her foot and crossed her arms, scowling at the frilly monstrosity her mother held up. “Its itchy, and the collar is awful!”
“But darling, we bought it specially for Grannys birthday,” Sarah replied, forcing calm into her voice while irritation simmered beneath. “Shell be upset if you turn up in jeans.”
“Good! Im tenI decide what I wear!”
Sarah closed her eyes and counted to five. A meltdown from her daughter was the last thing she needed today. The morning had already been chaosa mad rush at work, grocery shopping, then baking a cake for her mother-in-laws party. And as usual, when she needed him most, James was away on yet another “business trip.”
“Emily, listen” she began, but six-year-old Oliver burst in, clutching a crumpled drawing.
“Mum, look what I made!” He thrust the paper at her. “Its our family!”
Sarah glanced at the scribblesa typical childs artwork: herself with a huge smile, Emily with pigtails, little Oliver, and James, who for some reason appeared twice, on opposite sides of the page.
“Lovely, sweetheart,” she murmured absently. “Why did you draw Daddy twice?”
Oliver blinked at her as if shed missed the obvious. “Thats not twice. Thats Daddy in our house, and Daddy in the other house where he lives when hes not here.”
A chill ran down Sarahs spine. She studied the drawing againtwo versions of James, one beside them, the other near a boxy little house sketched in the corner.
“What other house, Olly?” she asked carefully, keeping her tone light.
“The one with the flowerpots and the cat,” he said with a shrug. “He took me there when you were at work. But its a secretDaddy said not to tell you.”
Emily, momentarily forgetting her dress protest, gasped. “Oliver, thats not true! Daddy goes on business trips, not to other houses!”
“It is true!” Oliver pouted. “We watched cartoons and ate pizza. And Auntie Laura made us hot chocolate.”
“Whos Auntie Laura?” Sarah felt the room tilt slightly.
“Daddys friend. She lives there.” Oliver had already lost interest and was zooming his toy car across the floor. “Can I watch TV now?”
Sarah nodded, unable to speak. Emily stared at her, wide-eyed.
“Mum, hes got it wrong,” she said uncertainly. “Daddy wouldnt”
“Go upstairs, Em,” Sarah cut in softly. “Wear whatever you want.”
Once Emily had gone, Sarah sank onto the sofa, her thoughts spinning. Jamesher James, the man whod spun tales of meetings in Birmingham and Edinburgh, whod brought back souvenirs from cities hed supposedly visitedwas living a double life?
She thought back to six months ago, when suspicion first crept in. The late nights. The sudden “trips” that had multiplied inexplicably. Then there was that café receipt from their own town, dated when he shouldve been in Manchester. Hed brushed it offsaid hed come back early but didnt want to wake them.
Shed believed him. Or convinced herself to.
Sarah stood abruptly and marched to the desk where they kept household paperwork. Bills, phone contracts, utilitiesJames usually handled them, but he wasnt due back for three days.
Her fingers froze on an unfamiliar documenta phone and internet bill for an address in Islington. Under the recipients name: James Whitmore. Her husband.
Her hands shook. Proof. Stupid to hope Oliver had imagined it. Children that age dont lie about things like thisthey dont have the motive.
Her phone buzzed. A message from James: *Miss you all. Counting the days till Im home. Love you.*
Sarah stared at the screen. Should she reply? Call him out? Wait and watch him lie to her face?
In the end, she typed: *Were fine.*
The next two days passed in a blur. She functioned on autopilotwork, school runs, mealsbut her mind circled the truth like a vulture. Oliver didnt mention the “other house” again, but Emily watched her with worried eyes, as if bracing for an explosion.
She sent the children to her mother-in-laws birthday dinner alone, claiming a migraine. Couldnt stomach sitting at that table, smiling politely. Did his mother know? Was she the only one in the dark?
On the third evening, the front door clicked open. Sarah sat at the kitchen table, cold tea untouched before her. The children were asleep.
“Im home!” James called cheerfully, appearing with a bouquet and suitcase. “God, Ive missed you!”
He leaned in for a kiss. Sarah pulled away.
“Something wrong?” He frowned.
“Oliver drew a picture,” she said flatly. “Our family. You were in two houses.”
James stilled. Then he chuckled awkwardly. “Kids imagine the strangest things”
“Stop.” Sarah cut him off. “I found the bills for the flat in Islington. Oliver told me about Auntie Laura and the cat. Quite a detailed fantasy, dont you think?”
James set the flowers down. His face cycled through shock, guilt, then resignation.
“Sarah, I can explain”
“Explain what?” Her voice stayed steady, but fury boiled beneath. “That you have a second family? That your business trips were visits to another woman? That you took our son there?”
“Its not that simple,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I never meant for you to find out like this.”
“How did you mean for me to find out?” she scoffed. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
He hesitated. “It started as an affair. Nothing serious. But Laura got pregnant, and”
“Pregnant?” Sarahs stomach dropped. “You have a child with her?”
“Sophies four,” he admitted quietly.
Four years. While shed raised their children, cooked his meals, washed his shirts, waited for him to return from “work,” hed been raising another child.
“Why stay?” Her voice was eerily calm. “Why not leave us?”
“I couldnt choose,” he said helplessly. “I love our kids. I love you. But I love them too. Its like two separate worlds.”
“No, its not.” Sarah shook her head. “Its lies. Years of lies. Looking me in the eye and saying you missed me when youd just come from them.”
“I did miss you,” he insisted, reaching for her hand. She jerked back. “Sarah, I know how this sounds. But I love you all. I didnt want to lose anyone.”
“And now?” She gave a bitter smile. “Now that the truths out?”
He stared at his hands. Outside, a car passed, headlights sweeping the room.
“I dont know,” he said finally. “Whatever I choose, someone gets hurt.”
“You chose already,” Sarah stood. “When you decided to live two lives. When you lied. When you took Oliver there.”
“I didnt plan for him to meet Laura,” James said quickly. “It was an accident. I needed papersI thought shed be out”
“And thats meant to make it better?” Sarah laughed hollowly. “Look, Im not going to scream or throw things. The kids are asleep. But I want you to leave. Pack a bag and go. Live properly in your other homeno more hiding.”
“Sarah, please”
“No.” Her voice cracked. “I didnt deserve this. Our children didnt deserve a father who schedules his time with them. I want a divorce.”
James flinched. “You cant just throw away fifteen years”
“I didnt throw them away. You did. When you decided you could have two families. That Id never find out.”
His silence was confession enough. Not remorsejust defeat.
“Can I at least say goodbye to the kids?” he asked dully.
“Theyre asleep.” Sarah shook her head. “Come tomorrow. Talk to them then. But no more lies. They deserve the truth, even if its simplified.”
“What will you tell them?” Fear flickered in his eyes.
“The truth,” she said simply. “That Daddy has another family. Another little girl. That hell visit, but wont live here anymore.”
“Theyll hate me.”
“Maybe,” Sarah agreed. “But itll be their honest feelings. Not something built on your lies.”
She watched him pack a bag, numb. When he paused at the door, she asked:
“Why Oliver? Why take him and not Emily?”
“Hes younger,” James avoided her gaze. “I thought he wouldnt understand, wouldnt tell. Emily wouldve figured it out.”
“She did,” Sarah said quietly. “She just didnt want to believe it.”
The door closed. Sarah slid to the floor, finally letting the tears come. Painful as it was, there was relief too. No more pretending. No more waiting for phantom trips to end.
The next morning, Oliver climbed into bed beside her.
“Mum, wheres Daddy?” he asked, snuggling close. “He was sposed to be home.”
“Daddys gone, love,” Sarah hugged him, breathing in his little-boy scent. “Hell come today to talk to you both.”
“Was he cross about my drawing?” Olivers lip wobbled. “I didnt mean to tell the secret…”
“No, sweetheart.” She smoothed his hair. “You did nothing wrong. Telling the truth is always good. Always tell me the truth, okay?”
Emily appeared in the doorway, sleep-rumpled. She took in the empty space where her father shouldve been and understood instantly.
“Hes gone for good?” she asked bluntly.
“Hell visit,” Sarah said gently. “But he wont live here anymore. He has… another family.”
“I knew,” Emily muttered. “I saw a photo on his phone. A lady with a little girl. He said it was his cousin.”
Sarahs heart clenchedso Emily had known too, but stayed silent, afraid to break them apart.
“Come here,” Sarah patted the bed. “No rush today. Well laze about, watch telly, then Ill make pancakes.”
“What about school?” Emily frowned.
“One day wont hurt,” Sarah managed a smile. “I think weve earned a duvet day.”
The children burrowed under the covers, pressing close, and Sarah held them tight, determination rising. It would be hardfinancially, emotionally, logistically. But shed manage. For them. For herself.
Life didnt end with betrayal. It just started a new chapterpainful, but honest. And in this one, Sarah refused to be the victim of someone elses lies.
“Mum?” Emily whispered. “Will we be okay without Dad?”
“Of course,” Sarah kissed her forehead. “Were a family. A proper oneno secrets, no lies.”
Oliver, blissfully unaware of the gravity, chattered about a dream where hed ridden a dragon. Life went onchanged, but still theirs. And for the first time in years, Sarah breathed freely, unburdened by suspicion.
Thered be hurdles ahead. But this morning, with her children in her arms, she knew shed made the right choice. Whatever came next would be built on truthnot deceit.
