The moment he saw me, the color drained from his face.
“Joshua.”
He stared at me.
Neither of us spoke.
Then the person on the other end of the phone said something I couldn’t hear.
Joshua slowly lowered the phone.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
I almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because I didn’t know what else to do.
“Then tell me what I wasn’t supposed to hear.”
He stood.
“Please.”
“No.”
My voice sounded strangely calm.
“You have been telling me for six months that you wanted children. You convinced me to quit my job. You convinced me to adopt those boys. You chose them. You told me they were meant to be ours.”
“I know.”
“And now you’re telling someone you didn’t adopt them because you wanted a family.”
Joshua closed his eyes.
“I didn’t.”
My stomach dropped.
“Then why?”
He didn’t answer.
“Why, Joshua?”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“I need you to sit down.”
“I don’t want to sit down.”
“You need to hear everything.”
“I’ve been hearing lies for months. I’d rather hear the truth standing.”
His eyes filled with tears again.
“The boys aren’t the reason I wanted you to adopt.”
I stared at him.
“Then what are they?”
He looked toward the hallway.
Toward the bedroom where the twins were sleeping.
And that frightened me more than anything he’d said so far.
“They were connected to you before you ever met them.”
My breath caught.
“What does that mean?”
Joshua swallowed.
“Do you remember the night we got the call from the adoption agency?”
“Of course.”
“You remember how excited I was?”
“You practically cried.”
“I wasn’t crying because I was happy.”
I felt the room tilt.
“Why were you crying?”
He sat down heavily.
“Because I recognized their names.”
I stared at him.
“What names?”
Joshua looked directly at me.
“Their birth mother’s name.”
For a moment, I couldn’t understand the words.
Then they sank in.
“Who was she?”
He hesitated.
And that hesitation told me there was something enormous buried beneath everything I’d been told.
“Joshua.”
“Her name was Emily.”
My heart stopped.
Not literally.
But it felt as if it had.
Emily.
I hadn’t heard that name in years.
Not since college.
Not since the accident.
I took a step backward.
“No.”
Joshua’s expression changed.
“You know her.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“You do.”
“No.”
“Sarah—”
“Don’t call me that.”
He stopped.
I could hear the refrigerator humming downstairs.
The boys sleeping.
A car passing outside.
Normal sounds.
Sounds that suddenly seemed to belong to someone else’s life.
I whispered, “Emily is dead.”
Joshua nodded.
“I know.”
My hands began to shake.
“How do you know her?”
He didn’t answer.
“How do you know her?”
“I investigated.”
The word hit me like a slap.
“You investigated her?”
“After the agency showed me the profile.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew the name.”
“How?”
Joshua looked down.
“Because Emily contacted me.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“When?”
“Before we met.”
My knees weakened.
I grabbed the edge of the desk.
“What are you talking about?”
Joshua’s voice became almost inaudible.
“Emily was the reason I found you.”
Everything inside me went silent.
I stared at him.
“You need to explain that sentence.”
He wiped his eyes.
“Ten years ago, before our wedding, you told me you’d had one relationship that ended badly. You never told me much about it.”
