Sunday dinners had been a family tradition for years.
That week, everything changed.
Still, I prepared the usual meal.
Roast. Potatoes. Green beans.
At 5:40, Daniel arrived alone.
He stood beside me in the kitchen.
“You ready?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
Jenna arrived at six.
She kissed my cheek.
“Hi, Carol.”
Mark came downstairs a few minutes later.
He looked at Daniel, then Jenna, then me.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Something shifted in his expression.
He knew.
We sat at the table, but nobody touched the food.
Jenna spoke first.
“Okay. This is weird.”
Daniel looked directly at her.
“How long have you been sleeping with my father?”
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No introduction. No explanation.
Jenna went pale.
Mark immediately interrupted.
“Daniel—”
“No.”
Daniel kept his voice steady.
“I asked my wife.”
Jenna looked toward me, then Mark.
That reaction was enough.
Daniel leaned back.“Wow.”
