Chapter 3: What Chloe Knew
Margaret's hand moved before her mind gave permission.
She picked up the phone.
Walter lunged forward.
"Don't touch that—"
"Don't." The word came out like a wall.
He stopped.
She read the message.
*Walter, I'm begging you.
She can't find out this way.
Please just tell her the truth before it's too late.
I can't keep covering for you.
— Chloe*
Margaret read it twice.
Then a third time.
"Chloe knew." It wasn't a question.
Walter sat on the edge of the bed.
The practiced steadiness was gone.
"It's not what you think."
"You keep saying that.
Start telling me what it actually is."
He rubbed his face with both hands.
"Chloe found out two months ago.
She saw a charge on Samuel's credit card — a hotel I'd used.
She confronted me before she said anything to Samuel."
"She confronted you." Margaret set the phone down carefully.
"My daughter-in-law confronted my husband about his affair.
And then what?
She just kept quiet?"
"I asked her to give me time.
I told her I would handle it."
"Handle it." Margaret laughed.
It was a short, hollow sound.
"And instead of handling it, you used our son's apartment as a meeting place.
With a key our son gave you in good faith."
The bathroom door opened a crack.
The young woman's voice came through, small and uncertain.
"I should go."
"Yes," Margaret said.
"You should."
The door opened fully.
The young woman — dark hair, a yellow dress, eyes that wouldn't meet anyone's — crossed the room quickly and picked up a small bag from the floor near the dresser.
She paused at the bedroom doorway.
"I didn't know he was married," she said.
"Not at first."
"When did you find out?"
A beat of silence.
"Three months ago."
Margaret looked at her steadily.
"And you stayed."
The young woman said nothing.
She left.
The front door clicked shut behind her.
Walter started to speak.
Margaret raised one hand.
"How long?"
"Margaret—"
"How long, Walter?"
He looked at the floor.
"Two years."
Two years.
Samuel's wedding had been two and a half years ago.
The timeline arranged itself in her mind without effort.
The bachelor party Walter had organized.
The rehearsal dinner where he'd given a speech about the importance of loyalty in a marriage.
The toast he'd made with tears in his eyes.
"You stood in that church," she said, "and watched our son make vows.
And you had already started."
"It wasn't—"
"Don't tell me it wasn't serious.
Don't you dare."
Walter stood up.
When he tried to step toward her, something in her face stopped him three feet away.
"I was going to end it," he said.
"I've been trying to end it."
"Chloe's message says she's been covering for you.
That means she's been lying to Samuel's face every single day for two months." Margaret picked up her own bag from where she'd dropped it near the door.
"My son comes home to that woman every night.
He trusts her completely.
And you put her in the position of carrying your secret."
"I know." Walter's voice cracked slightly.
"I know what I did."
"No." She looked at him one last time before walking into the hallway.
"You know what you got caught doing.
That's not the same thing."
She was almost at the front door when Walter called after her.
"Where are you going?"
"I need to think."
"Margaret.
Please don't call Samuel.
Not yet.
Let me explain it to him myself.
He deserves to hear it from me."
She stopped walking.
Her hand rested on the door frame.
"You should have thought about what Samuel deserves two years ago."
She stepped into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind her.
Her car was in the lot below.
She sat in it for eleven minutes without starting the engine.
Her phone was in her hand.
Samuel's name was on the screen.
She didn't press call.
Not because Walter had asked her not to.
Because she realized, sitting there in the quiet, that she still didn't know everything.
Chloe's message said *I can't keep covering for you.* But covering what, exactly?
The affair alone — or something more?
May you like
She needed to talk to Chloe first.
And Chloe didn't know she was coming.
