“Why?”
“I think he should answer.”
My mind raced.
I replayed every Saturday.
Every casual question.
Every shrug from Hannah.
Every time Mason had mentioned the diner and I had treated it like a footnote.
“Did David know?”
Diane said nothing.
My head snapped toward her.
“Did my husband know?”
She closed her eyes briefly.
“Oh, boy.”
I left the room.
I didn’t walk.
I marched.
Through the kitchen.
Past the counter.
Across the dining room.
David saw me coming.
His smile disappeared.
Hannah looked ready to crawl beneath the table.
Mason continued eating his cake.
I stopped beside the booth.
“David.”
He swallowed.
“Yes?”
“Did you know?”
Hannah whispered, “Claire—”
I held up a hand.
“Not yet.”
David leaned back.
I had been married to that man for twenty-two years.
I knew his expressions.
That one meant guilt.
“For how long?”
He rubbed his jaw.
“Six years.”
I actually laughed.
