He didn’t soften the word.
“I did.”
I pulled my hand away.
“You let me believe you betrayed Mom.”
“Yes.”
“For months.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dad leaned forward.
“Because I knew you.”
His voice cracked.
“I knew if I told you Daniel was garbage and that you should divorce him immediately, you would’ve done exactly that.”
“So?”
“You weren’t sleeping. Your blood pressure was already worrying you. You were having cramps that first night. Your mother and I were terrified.”
He wiped his face.
“I wasn’t trying to save your marriage.”
I stared at him.
“I was trying to delay the battle.”
The room seemed unnaturally quiet.
Dad continued.
“I wanted you surrounded by doctors, resting, eating, sleeping, preparing for your son—not sitting in lawyers’ offices, fighting over money, listening to Daniel make excuses, or wondering where you and the baby were going to live.”
My eyes burned.
