Emma's Secret: A Novel

the kitchen. Her cell phone continued to go off, first with phone calls from Peter and then text messages when he realized she wasn’t going to answer. Eventually, he got the idea, and his last text was that he was sorry for not being honest with her and that he loved her.
    Of that she had no doubt. He just had a funny way of showing it lately.
    Her kitchen was now spotless, her fridge cleaned, her floors scrubbed, and her hands raw from the hot water they’d been immersed in while she worked out her anger. But she felt better now,calmer and more relaxed. Ready to discuss Emma sneaking away to visit Jack.
    Just the thought of Emma riding her bike that far had Megan’s hands shaking and her heartbeat racing. Sure, their street was relatively quiet, but she would have had to cross two major streets before reaching the donut shop. Anything could have happened to her. Megan brushed that thought away. She needed to calm herself down.
    Before her cleaning spree, she’d asked Emma to help her make fruit salad for lunch and attempted to talk to her about what happened. At first, her daughter was quiet, not willing to offer much in the way of explanation, more concerned with whether Megan was still mad at her. How was she to explain to a five-year-old just how much danger she’d been in without scaring her too much? How did she confess her own fear of Jack being back in their lives when to Emma he was her Papa?
    Laurie was right. When Megan had dropped Emma off for dinner and a sleepover with her sisters at Laurie’s house an hour ago, she’d said as much. It was time for Megan to face her fears—and that meant dealing with this trust issue between her and Peter.
    The evening was still young and the warm wind whispered against her skin. Megan leaned her head back as far as it could go, her hair hanging down, tickling her back and arms as it swayed in the breeze.
    A door slammed and minutes later, soft music flowed from the open window and door to the kitchen. Ahh, soft jazz, her favorite. Megan suppressed a smile as the screen door opened and a chair was pulled back from the table.
    She opened her eyes to see Peter beside her holding a bouquet of white roses. She smiled slightly as she took them from his hands and brought them up to her nose. They smelled divine.
    “I’m sorry,” Peter whispered. He stood and reached for her hands, pulling her up with him. He wrapped his arms around her and held tight.
    “I know you are,” she said against his chest. She rested her head against him and listened to the steady beat of his heart. She pulled away and stood by the railing, watching Peter as he realized she hadn’t said she forgave him.
    “You ask me to trust you, but then in the next breath you lie to me. I asked you point-blank if Emma had seen Jack, and you li—”
    “I never lied.” Peter hung his head.
    “You never told me the truth either. Lie by omission. Isn’t that the same thing?” It was a moot point, really. What’s done was done. There was no turning back time, no wishing for things to be different.
    Peter lifted his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. She read the conflicting emotions in his gaze, the desire to defend himself, the apology, and the grief. She looked away.
    “I’m not sure I can apologize for placing our daughter’s need first. Keeping it a secret from you, yes, I was wrong, and I’m so sorry for that. But I don’t regret taking Emma to see her grandfather.”
    “He’s not her grandfather.” Megan wished she could take back those words the instant she said them. “I don’t want him to be her grandfather.” She blinked back the tears she hadn’t wanted to cry all day.
    When Peter pulled her back into his embrace, her body stiffened. She didn’t want to give in. She didn’t want to accept this.
    “She’s the only family he has left, Meg.” Peter rested his chin against her head and stroked her hair. The tears fell harder as she thought about what he’d just said. What if it were her own father? What if he were all alone?
    She lifted her face. “That’s why this means so much to you, isn’t it? Because he’s a father who has been left alone.”
    Peter’s gaze clouded over before he looked away.
    “You see him as a father, don’t you?”
    Her husband shrugged. But she noticed he didn’t deny it. Megan’s soul sighed. How could she fight against that? Losing his father had devastated Peter in a way she could never understand. She loved her dad,