Chapter 1 - THE OTHER WOMAN’S NAME
The woman’s name was Lauren.
“Lauren Reed,” Tyler said over the speakers.
My entire body went cold.
Mason was still holding my hand.
A few seconds earlier, he had been practically vibrating with excitement.
Now he was staring at me.
“Who’s Lauren?”
I couldn’t answer.
Tyler continued.
“Some of you know how difficult it is to spend your life traveling and constantly saying goodbye to the people you care about.”
His voice sounded warm.
Tender.
The voice he used with Mason at bedtime.
The voice he used with me when we were first married.
“Lauren has somehow made the hardest parts of this job feel lighter.”
I stopped breathing.
Mason looked toward the front of the plane.
Then back at me.
“Mom?”
My phone was still recording.
I wanted to shut it off.
Instead, my thumb froze.
Tyler continued.
“And since today marks exactly one year since we met, I wanted to embarrass her in front of a plane full of strangers and say happy anniversary.”
Anniversary.
The word struck harder than anything else.
One year.
Not a mistake.
Not a kiss.
Not a recent emotional affair.
A year.
Mason whispered:
“But you and Dad have an anniversary.”
I looked at my seven-year-old son and understood that there are moments when motherhood means answering a question before you’ve had time to survive the answer yourself.
“Yes.”
My voice barely worked.
“We do.”
Up near first class, someone laughed.
Then applause started.
Scattered at first.
Then stronger.
Passengers had no idea.
To them, it was sweet.
A pilot making a romantic announcement.
Somebody even whistled.
Tyler laughed over the intercom.
“Lauren, thanks for putting up with the schedule, the terrible coffee, and me.”
More laughter.
Then:
“I love you.”
Mason’s fingers slipped from mine.
The applause continued.
I heard every clap like a door closing.
A woman across the aisle glanced at us.
She had noticed Mason’s earlier excitement when Tyler first spoke.
Maybe she had heard him whisper:
“That’s my dad.”
Her face changed.
She looked away quickly.
Mercy from a stranger.
I wished the floor would open.
Instead, the flight attendant began the safety demonstration.
Life continued.
That felt insulting.
Mason leaned against the window.
He didn’t cry.
Not yet.
He stared at the wing.
After several minutes he asked:
“Does Dad love her more than us?”
My heart broke.
“No.”
“How do you know?”
Because I didn’t.
Not anymore.
I chose my words carefully.
“Whatever Dad has done between him and me does not change that you are his son.”
“But he said she means everything.”
The announcement had said:
Someone who means absolutely everything to me.
I hated Tyler for those words more than the affair.
He had spoken carelessly because he believed the two people most damaged by them could not hear.
I touched Mason’s shoulder.
“Adults sometimes say things without thinking about how big they sound.”
He finally looked at me.
“Did he lie to us?”
I swallowed.
“I think he lied to me.”
That was enough truth for seven.
He turned back to the window.
The plane began moving.
I had never been afraid of flying.
That morning I became afraid of landing.
Because once we reached Chicago, Tyler would leave the cockpit.
May you like
And then he would see us.
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