Chapter 3 - THE Confrontation
"Claire? Kids?" Reid’s voice floated up the staircase, rich, smooth, and completely unbothered. "I'm home! The client's unit took forever, but I managed to wrap it up!"
I didn't answer. I sat on the edge of the bed, holding the birth certificate in my right hand and the burner phone in my left.
Heavy footsteps climbed the wooden stairs. Reid appeared in the bedroom doorway, loosening his tie, a tired, boyish smile plastered across his face.
"Hey," he said softly, stepping toward me. "I'm so sorry about today, babe. You have no idea how crazy the job site was. How are the kids? Did they enjoy the—"
His words died in his throat.
His eyes fell on the shoe box lying open on the comforter. Then his gaze dropped to the paper in my hand.
The color drained from his face so fast it was like watching a ghost materialize in the doorway. The easy, practiced charm vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating stillness.
"Where did you get that?" he whispered.
"Miles saw you," I said. My voice wasn't shaking. It was strangely, terrifyingly steady. "He pressed his hands against the shark tank glass and pointed across the water. He asked me why Dad was holding another woman's hand."
Reid closed his eyes for a long, agonizing second. He swallowed hard, his throat working against his collar.
"Claire... let me explain," he began, taking a step closer, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "It's not what you think—"
"Don't," I snapped, standing up so fast he flinched. "Don't you dare say 'it's not what you think.' I saw you, Reid. I saw you crouch down for a picture with a little girl in a yellow sweater. I saw you wearing matching VIP wristbands with her mother. And then I found this."
I held up the birth certificate of Lily Grace Sterling.
"Four years," I said, tears finally burning the corners of my eyes, though I refused to let them fall. "Our twins were four years old when you had another child with another woman. You've been living a double life for four years!"
Reid squeezed his eyes shut, leaning his forehead against the doorframe. "Victoria... Victoria was someone I met on a regional HVAC conference in Pittsburgh five years ago. It was a mistake, Claire! One night! But then she got pregnant, and she threatened to destroy my life, destroy my job, destroy us if I didn't stay involved!"
"So you bought her a house? You bought them VIP tickets to the aquarium while your own children stood behind regular glass watching you?" I shouted, my voice rising before I caught myself and lowered it, terrified of waking Miles and Mae. "You handed our son three tickets today! You looked him in the eye and told him the shark tour was sold out!"
"Because Victoria was bringing Lily there for her birthday weekend!" Reid yelled back, his composure cracking into ugly frustration. "Victoria demanded I spend the morning with them! She threatened to show up at our house if I didn't go! I was trying to protect you, Claire!"
"Protect me?" I laughed—a harsh, broken sound that echoed off the bedroom walls. "You were protecting yourself! You were protecting your pathetic, lying cowardice!"
"I love you!" Reid stepped forward and tried to grab my arms, his hands desperate. "I love you and Miles and Mae! They are my family! Victoria is just a mistake I've been trying to manage!"
"Get your hands off me," I growled, stepping back out of his reach.
"Claire, please—"
"I want you out of this house," I said, pointing toward the stairs. "Pack a bag and get out."
Reid’s jaw hardened. The remorse in his eyes flickered out, replaced by a dark, arrogant stubbornness I had never seen in him before.
"I’m not leaving my house, Claire," he said coldly. "My name is on the mortgage. Half of everything in this house belongs to me. You can't just throw me out because of a past mistake."
"A past mistake?" I stared at him, repulsed. "You lied to me three hours ago! You sent me a text message lying about a broken cooling unit while you were holding another woman's waist!"
"I paid for those aquarium tickets!" he snapped. "I provide for this family! You work part-time designing logos, Claire! How do you think this house gets paid for? How do you think the twins get their summer camps? Me!"
The mask was completely gone now. The sweet, devoted husband had transformed into a selfish stranger threatening me in my own bedroom.
"Take your burner phone," I whispered, throwing the device at his chest. He caught it instinctively. "Take your shoe box. Sleep on the couch downstairs. If you step foot near my children's rooms tonight, I will call the police."
May you like
Reid stared at me, clutching the phone. Without another word, he turned and walked down the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing through the hollow house.
I slammed the master bedroom door, locked it, and fell to my knees against the carpet, weeping into my hands.
