Chapter 2 - The Announcement"Camille — I know I've told you this privately, but I wanted to say it somewhere that means something to me."
I don't remember breathing.
"You're carrying our baby, and I can't wait for the life we're building together." He paused. "I know the last few months have been complicated. But I can't wait for the day I get to call you my wife."
Owen turned toward me slowly. Across the aisle, a woman smiled like she was witnessing the most romantic moment of her life.
My phone was still recording in my hand.
And suddenly I remembered Camille.
Six months earlier, she'd shown up at our front door. I was working on a commissioned painting in the dining room when the bell rang. When I opened the door, a woman stood there crying, mascara streaked under both eyes.
"Is Nathan here?"
"No. He's working."
Her face fell. "I need to talk to him."
"Who are you?"
"I'm Camille." She wiped her cheeks. I waited for more. Nothing came.
"Would you like to leave him a message?"
"No." A pause. "Never mind." She turned and walked away.
That evening I asked Nathan about her. He froze for just a second — the way people do when they hear a name they weren't expecting to hear out loud. Then he recovered.
"Camille? She works for the airline."
"Why was she crying on our porch asking for you?"
"She's having some issues at work. I've been helping her deal with it."
"With what?"
"A complaint about another employee. It's complicated."
Something about it bothered me. But Nathan had never given me any real reason to suspect him. No strange messages. No unexplained absences beyond his normal schedule. No odd charges. Nothing. Camille never appeared again. Her name never came up again.
Eventually I convinced myself I'd just been paranoid.
Now I was sitting on a plane, listening to my husband announce that she was pregnant with his child.
Nathan finished his announcement. Several passengers actually applauded. Someone near the front cheered.
Beside me, Owen whispered, "Mom?"
I put my phone away. "What does Dad mean?"
"We'll talk about it later."
"Who's Camille?"
"Later, sweetheart."
"Why did Dad say she's going to be his wife?" His voice had started to shake.
That was the moment I stopped thinking about myself entirely. Whatever Nathan had done to me, our son had just heard it too, in real time, over an airplane intercom.
I took Owen's hand. "Look at me." His eyes were already wet. "Is Dad leaving us?"
"We don't know exactly what's happening yet."
"But you're his wife."
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His tears started falling. I pulled him against me. Every part of me wanted to march to the front of that plane and demand answers. But the aircraft was already pulling away from the gate, and my son needed me steady more than I needed to be right.
The flight was under two hours. It felt like ten. Owen barely touched his gummy bears. The drawing that said BEST PILOT EVER stayed folded up inside his backpack the entire time.
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