Chapter 2 - What Tyler Saw
That Tuesday started like every other Tuesday.
I was standing at the counter spreading mustard on Daniel's sandwich when Tyler shuffled in, still half-asleep in his pajamas. He leaned against the doorway and watched me for a second.
"Mom, maybe don't make Dad lunch today."
I laughed without even looking up. "Why on earth not?"
He frowned, like I was the one being slow. "Because he throws it away by the corner every day."
I set the knife down. "What?"
"Our bus stopped there yesterday. I saw him put your food right next to the trash can."
My stomach twisted into a knot. "You're sure about that?"
"Yeah. And then he changed into his wedding suit and got into some lady's car."
I stared at my ten-year-old for a long moment, trying to find the part where this was a joke.
"Tyler, go get dressed for school."
He shrugged like he'd already told me something he found mildly interesting and mostly irrelevant, and wandered off.
I stood there alone, the sandwich half-finished, the thermos sitting on the counter, steam curling out of the spout. Twelve years of mornings suddenly didn't make sense anymore.
I finished packing the lunch anyway. Two sandwiches. Apple slices. Coffee. And the note, written exactly the way I always wrote it, folded and tucked beneath the napkin like nothing in the world had changed.
Daniel came downstairs at 6:50, same as always. He kissed my forehead, grabbed the bag, and said, "I'll be home around six."
"Okay," I said, my voice sounding strangely far away.
Then he left, and I sat at the table with my coffee going cold, watching his truck disappear down the street.
Twelve years of empty lunchboxes. I had always taken that as proof the food got eaten. Now I had no idea what any of it meant.
And then there was the suit. Daniel owned exactly one — dark navy, the same suit he wore the day we got married. He'd worn it to a couple of funerals, one wedding, and Tyler's third-grade awards ceremony. That was it. Why would he be secretly changing into it on a random Tuesday?
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And who was the woman?
The obvious answer scared me more than I wanted to admit. But something about the whole thing felt too strange, too elaborate, to be a simple affair. I needed to see it with my own eyes before I said a single word to him.
