Chapter 2: The Woman My Wife Claimed Never Existed
For a moment, I forgot about the dinner.
I forgot about the gifts on the floor, the Christmas music, and the woman standing across the room in a red dress that suddenly looked far too bright.
All I could see was the photograph in my daughter's trembling hands.
It was old, with worn corners and a crease running diagonally across one side. The colors had faded, but the two women in the picture were still recognizable.
One was Rachel.
My first wife. Lily's biological mother.
The woman I had buried three years earlier.
The other was Vanessa.
My current wife.
They stood side by side in what looked like a garden, both smiling at the camera. Vanessa appeared younger, with longer hair and none of the polished elegance she wore now.
But that wasn't what made my hands begin to shake.
It was the simple fact that I had never seen this photograph before.
And Vanessa had spent three years telling me she had never met Rachel.
“Where did you get that?”” I asked.
Lily pressed closer to my side.
“I found it in Vanessa's room.””
Vanessa stood so abruptly that her chair scraped across the floor.
“Give me that photograph.””
Her voice cracked on the last word.
I looked up at her.
“What?””
“It's mine. Give it back.””
I held out my hand, and Lily placed the photograph in my palm.
Vanessa took a step toward us.
I stepped back.
“No,” I said.
“You're going to explain this first.””
“There is nothing to explain.””
“That's you standing next to Rachel.””
Vanessa's eyes darted toward the picture.
“It's an old photograph. People take pictures with strangers all the time.””
“Strangers?””
I could barely recognize my own voice.
“You told me you had never met my wife.””
“I said I didn't know her.””
“You said you had never seen her before I showed you our wedding album.””
“That is not what I meant.””
“Then what did you mean?””
Vanessa glanced toward her children.
“Not in front of them, Marcus.””
I almost laughed.
“You were comfortable discussing my daughter's punishment in front of them. You were comfortable letting her sit on the floor while everyone else ate. But now we need privacy?””
“Don't twist this.””
“I'm asking a simple question. Why are you in a photograph with Rachel?””
Vanessa opened her mouth, but no answer came.
I looked down at the picture again.
Rachel wore a pale blouse and a small silver necklace. Her dark curls fell over her shoulders, and she was smiling with the effortless warmth I remembered from the early years of our marriage.
I could almost hear her laugh.
The memory hurt.
For three years, I had kept Rachel's photographs in a small album upstairs because Lily still liked looking at them before bed. Vanessa had always insisted that the past should remain the past.
She had called Rachel's belongings clutter.
She had suggested that Lily was too young to keep asking questions about her mother.
And whenever I mentioned Rachel's name, Vanessa found a reason to change the subject.
I had mistaken her discomfort for jealousy.
Now I wasn't sure what I had been looking at.
“Vanessa,” I said quietly, “how long have you known Rachel?””
She folded her arms.
“I don't remember.””
“You don't remember?””
“It was a long time ago.””
“You're standing beside her in a photograph. You're both smiling at the camera. How can you not remember?””
“Because the picture means nothing!””
Her sudden shout made Caleb jump.
Lily grabbed my arm.
I immediately lowered my voice.
“It's okay, baby. I've got you.””
Vanessa noticed the gesture, and her expression hardened.
“You're making her afraid of me.””
I stared at her.
“She was already afraid of you when I walked through that door.””
For the first time, Vanessa had no immediate reply.
I turned the photograph over.
The back was covered in faint handwriting, but the ink had faded. I could make out a date and a few letters before Vanessa moved toward me again.
“Marcus, please.””
The word please sounded strange coming from her.
She had spent the evening speaking as though she controlled every person in the room. Now she looked at the photograph as if it were something dangerous.
I raised it slightly.
“Tell me the truth.””
Vanessa's eyes filled with anger.
“You don't understand what you're doing.””
“Then help me understand.””
She reached toward the picture.
I pulled it away.
“No.””
Her hand stopped in midair.
For several seconds, we stared at each other while the Christmas tree lights blinked behind her.
Then she lowered her hand and straightened the skirt of her dress.
“You're tired,” she said.
“You came home, saw something you didn't like, and decided to turn it into a catastrophe. We can discuss this tomorrow.””
“Tomorrow?””
“Yes.””
“My daughter was eating stale bread while your children ate a feast. I found you in a photograph with my dead wife. And you think I'm going to sleep on it?””
Vanessa's jaw tightened.
“Your daughter has a habit of taking things that don't belong to her.””
Lily went completely still.
I turned toward her.
“Did you take this photograph, sweetheart?””
She shook her head quickly.
“No, Daddy. I found it in a box under Vanessa's bed. I was looking for my Christmas pajamas because mine were missing.””
Vanessa's face changed again.
“You went through my things?””
Lily's eyes filled with tears.
“I was cold.””
“You had absolutely no right—”
“Enough!”” I shouted.
The word echoed through the dining room.
Even the children fell silent.
I crouched in front of Lily and gently wiped a tear from her cheek.
“You don't have to explain anything else right now.””
She nodded, but her hand remained locked around my sleeve.
Then she looked at the photograph.
“Daddy?””
“Yes, baby?””
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“I wasn't supposed to find it.””
My heart thudded painfully.
“What do you mean?””
Lily swallowed.
“Vanessa told someone on the phone that if you ever saw that picture, everything would be ruined.””
Across the room, Vanessa stopped breathing for a second.
I slowly rose to my feet.
“Who did you hear her talking to?””
Lily looked from my face to Vanessa's.
“I don't know his name.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“She's lying.””
But Lily was already crying.
“She said you could never find out what happened before you married her.””
The photograph trembled in my hand.
I looked at my wife, waiting for her to deny those exact words.
Instead, she stared at the picture with an expression I had never seen before.
Not anger.
Not embarrassment.
Fear.
Then Lily whispered something that made Vanessa take another step backward.
“Daddy, there's something on the back.””
I turned the photograph over again.
And this time, I noticed that the faded handwriting wasn't the only thing there.
May you like
Beneath the date, someone had written a short sentence in black ink.
A sentence that began with my name.
