Five minutes after our divorce became final, my husband looked me in the eyes and said, “Take the girls, Lena. I have a son coming now.” He thought he was leaving behind an ordinary wife and two daughters he no longer needed—but by that afternoon, he would discover I was a U.S. Army colonel, and the “heir” his entire family was celebrating might not even be his. – usnews

“Where exactly are you?” he demanded.

“I told you. I’m not discussing my assignment.”

“Are the girls there?”

“Yes.”

“Put Madeline on.”

“No.”

His voice hardened instantly.

“Lena.”

“They don’t know what you said this morning.”

“What are you talking about?”

“They don’t know you told me to take them because you have a son coming.”

More silence.

Then:

“I was emotional.”

“No. You were happy.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Neither was what you said.”

Behind the glass, Sophie looked up and saw me.

She smiled.

A huge, uncomplicated smile.

Then she waved with both hands.

My throat tightened.

Preston kept talking.

“I need to see them before you go.”

“You had the opportunity.”

“I didn’t know you were leaving today.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“I thought they’d be at the house.”

“You told me Brielle needed peace.”

“That was before all this happened.”

There it was again.