He hadn’t simply hidden the reason his marriage ended.
He’d convinced both of us that the other wanted nothing to do with her.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered. “Why would he do that?”
“I think he was afraid we’d talk. If we compared what he’d told us, we’d discover the truth.”
I turned around.
“Did you ever try calling me directly?”
“I wrote messages, but I never sent them. I thought you wanted me to stay away.”
She showed me several drafts on her phone.
One was dated on my birthday.
“I hope you’re doing well, Linda. I miss our talks. I wish things had ended differently.”
I remembered that birthday.
Daniel had called for less than five minutes. When I mentioned Sophie, he’d snapped.
“Why can’t you just let her go?”
I’d apologized for upsetting him.
Now I realized how thoroughly he’d controlled what each of us believed.
Then something occurred to me.
