“Thanks, buddy.”
Mason didn’t smile.
“Okay.”
That single word sounded more devastating than any argument I could have had with Tyler.
I took my son’s hand and walked away.
Tyler called after us.
“Wait! We need to talk about this.”
I stopped but didn’t turn around.
“No, Tyler. We don’t need to talk about what happened on that plane. We all heard you.”
“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”
I looked over my shoulder.
“That’s the problem. You didn’t mean for me to find out at all.”
Then I left.
That evening, Tyler called seventeen times.
I didn’t answer.
He sent messages explaining that his relationship with Vanessa had started during a difficult period in our marriage. He said he had been confused. He said he had intended to tell me eventually.
