I suppose I saw her at a holiday party two years ago and last fall. Nora was an accountant. Always overly close to my husband.
Often too chummy, I remembered, my eyes narrowing. “Daddy said she has worms,” Mira remarked. I saw them when we—
She paused.
She appeared thoughtful with wrinkled brows and pursed lips. I bent again. “When you what, Mira?”
She reddened and murmured, “I shouldn’t say.
Dad told us not to talk about the worms. That Mommy would be mad.”
My stomach dropped. “Upset?” So I asked before Theo stood alongside me, drink in hand, cheeks crimson from attention.
Sharply, I said, “Hey.” “May I speak to you?”
“Now?” He blinks. “I just—”
“Now, Theo.”
I noticed the woman I was talking to before Mira revealed the bombshell. As she arrived, I apologized and asked her to watch my daughter.
I told Mira Daddy and I were going to talk quickly and left. Near the coat closet, Theo followed me into a hallway. “What’s up?”
“She claims you took her to Nora’s.”
He blinks.
A laugh followed. “Seriously? Not now, darling.
Can we discuss this at home effectively? I wanted to resolve things then, but it wasn’t the proper time. I nodded sternly, indicating the conversation continued.
When we returned to the party, tensions were high. Homeward travel was quiet. Mira dozed off in the backseat, ignorant of our storm.
Theo operated the steering wheel with one hand. I glanced out the window, searching for answers. After Mira went to bed, I sat him in the kitchen.
“Our daughter saw red worms on Nora’s bed?” The conversation continued as we left it. These were curlers. Soft, you know?
Mira saw them, was scared, and kept talking about it. I said they were worms, so she dropped it. It was nothing.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“A joke!
The papers Nora forgot to send was needed. I picked it up with Mira, who came inside for two minutes. All done!”
In her bedroom?
I persisted, doubting his words. Too fast, he said “No!” Not like that. She showed me something on her laptop as Mira walked down the hallway.
She must have seen them then.”
Why lie? Why tell her not to speak? “I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea or misunderstand,” he said, adjusting his collar.
Already misunderstood a lot. There must be a good concept, right? He froze.
I needed no more proof. “Tell me the truth,” I demanded. “I did!
You’re misrepresenting this!”
It’s already something. You took our daughter to another woman’s home. Instructed her to lie.
Somehow she got near the bed!”
I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Why are you sweating?”
His response was blank. Just sighed and left. I couldn’t sleep that night.
I stared at the ceiling, hearing “Mommy would be upset” like a drum. My decision was made by dawn. I messaged Nora using my husband’s laptop’s “work contacts” list.
I told her I was planning the company’s upcoming Christmas party and wanted to review the guest list over coffee. She replied cheerfully “Sure thing!” in just five minutes. I met her in a little café three streets from her flat.
Elegant hair, white blouse, and red nails made her look like a fashion model. Like a pro, she ordered a premium green tea latte. I put my cup down and went to the point after light conversation.
“My daughter says she visited you.”
Her expression was unchanged. I continued. “She says my husband brought her.
Red worms in your bed, she said. Guess these were soft curlers? Nora purposefully stirred her cappuccino carefully.
“I was wondering when you’d catch on,” she added. No flinching. It would be quick, he said.
She stated frankly that we might cease hiding after you departed. You’re comfortable with being someone’s backup? After realizing the reality, I asked, crying.
She grinned. I’m fine with selection. Eventually.”
I stood, determined.
He’s yours.”
I felt calmer than expected on the way home. No heartbreak. Not mad.
Just finished. Over the next few weeks, I completed my tasks. I think my body and mind recognized what was happening with Theo and just wanted confirmation.
Like I thought our marriage was ideal to hide the truth in my heart. Separation was filed privately. We hired a divorce lawyer.
Gathered papers. Taking screenshots. Arranged custody.
I made sure every move benefited Mira and me. Not even Theo tried to fight it! He quickly moved in with Nora!
I hear things aren’t good. Mira, who now won’t see her dad without Nora, tells him about the new couple’s supper disputes. Rule, co-parenting, etc.
complaints. Theo, once affable, now mutters during drop-offs like a man tired of his new existence! As for me?
I’m ok. After months of sobbing about my failing marriage and feeling inadequate, I sleep through the night. Grief, they said.
I returned to drawing, joined a local gym class, and painted Mira’s bedroom with glow-in-the-dark stars. Sometimes, when my daughter talks about the past, her voice cuts through the noise. She said, “Mommy,” curled up with her beloved stuffed bear next to me one night.
“Why is Daddy not living with us?”
I regarded her. Trusting large brown eyes. Because he lied about worms.
She nodded seriously, as if she understood. “Lying is bad.”
“Yes,” I answered. “It is.”
She held me tightly.
“Thank goodness no worms.”
A laugh. Me too, baby. Me too.”
