Chapter 4: The Lie We Live

I deleted the photo, appetite gone. The dining room felt even colder than usual as I sat alone at the twelve-seat table. Seven o’clock came and went. Nathan didn’t show. He always came home for dinner when he was in town—keeping up appearances, I guess. Tonight, just a phone call.

His name flashed on my screen, taunting me. "I won’t be coming home tonight. I was in meetings and forgot to message you." Nathan barely paused. In the background, a woman’s voice giggled—soft and sweet. "Nathan, the reservation’s at eight!"

Sophia. Of course.

My throat tightened, but I played my part. "It’s okay, just remember to eat." I kept my voice level, pleasant, the way I’d practiced for two years.

Just as I was about to hang up, he asked, "Aren’t you going to ask why I’m not coming back?" There was something in his voice—curiosity, maybe even suspicion.

"I know you’re busy with work." The lie rolled off my tongue. And busy with Sophia, I thought. Today’s photo was her power move—reminding me I was just a placeholder.

Nathan must’ve sensed my detachment. "What’s wrong with you lately? Do you know what happened on your birthday?" His voice sharpened, almost panicked.

What did it matter? Everyone in Manhattan knew Sophia was the one he loved. My silence made him flustered—a rare crack in his armor.

"Emma, don’t overthink it. I’ll explain when I get back." It sounded hollow, even to him.

"Mm." That was all I could manage. I set the phone down, face-first on the table.

I tried to eat, but the smell of perfectly cooked salmon turned my stomach. My reflection in the mirror looked pale, new freckles from the pregnancy dotting my cheeks like tiny betrayals.

I’d never match Sophia’s ballet grace or old-money poise. Now, I wasn’t even pure. I was tainted—used, carrying a stranger’s child. If Nathan found out, he’d look at me with that frozen stare—maybe worse.