I didn’t set out to snoop. All I wanted was that photo from our anniversary party last month—the one where Lily had frosting in her hair, her face a sticky mess of laughter. But as I scrolled through Sam’s Facebook, something caught my eye.

The name Ella popped up. Again. And again.

She’d liked nearly every one of his posts, her comments a little too warm, a little too knowing.

“Looking good as always!” she’d written beneath a photo of the two of us from a fancy dinner a couple of months ago. But what made my heart skip was a photo from Lily’s birthday. My daughter in her fairy wings, beaming. Ella had commented, “So glad Lily liked the wings! I knew they’d be perfect ❤️”

I paused. The wings. She suggested them?

I clicked Ella’s profile. It wasn’t public, but her photos were visible. She was stunning—radiant smile, mischievous eyes. Something about her felt vaguely familiar, but I was sure we’d never met. And yet, Sam had liked nearly everything she posted. My gut twisted.

Then Lily skipped into the room, ponytails bouncing. She saw the photo on my screen and squealed, “Ella!”

I turned slowly. “You know her?”

“Of course, silly! We see her all the time!”

The air left my lungs.

“What do you mean, all the time?” I asked, too casually.

“Every Wednesday! Daddy picks me up and we go meet Ella. We feed the ducks, but not bread—she says bread’s bad for them. And sometimes we get ice cream!” Lily twirled, then froze. “Oh no. I wasn’t supposed to tell. Daddy said it was our special secret. That grown-ups sometimes keep secrets so they don’t hurt other grown-ups’ feelings.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, smiled at her, and sent her off to play. But inside, my world was spiraling.

Every Wednesday, I stayed late at the office. Every Wednesday, I thought Sam was spending quality time with our daughter. And now I find out there’s another woman—a secret woman—sharing that time with them?

I needed answers. And tomorrow was Wednesday.

For the first time in three years, I called in sick. I parked across from Lily’s school, heart pounding like a drum. When the bell rang, Sam pulled up, casual and calm as ever, helping Lily into the car. I followed them, hands trembling on the steering wheel.

They arrived at a nearby park. Lily sat on a bench beside him, legs swinging as he checked his watch.

Ten minutes later, she arrived.

Ella.

She stepped out of her car, long dark hair catching the breeze. And that’s when it hit me—she wasn’t a stranger. She was the girl from Sam’s prom photo. His high school sweetheart.

Lily ran straight to her, arms outstretched, laughing, “Ella!”

And Sam—my husband—hugged her. Kissed her cheek.

They looked like a family. My chest tightened.

After a while, the three of them walked across the street to the café Sam and I used to take Lily to after her dance recitals. My café. Our table.

I couldn’t stay in the car any longer.

When Sam and Lily went up to order, I walked in. The bell above the door rang sharply. Ella looked up—and froze.

“Hi,” I said, standing at her table. “I’m Sam’s wife.”

Her phone slipped from her hand. “I know,” she whispered.

Behind me, Sam’s voice cracked. “Sarah?”

Lily clung to his leg, confused. “Mommy?”

Ella quickly gestured to the seat across from her. “Please. Sit. This… isn’t what you think.”

“I’d love to hear what you think I should think,” I said, but I sat.

She swallowed hard. “My husband died last year. We were trying for kids, but… we never had the chance. After he passed, I thought about adoption, but I was terrified. I didn’t know if I’d be good at it.”

She glanced at Sam. “I reached out to him. We were close once, and I knew he had a daughter. I asked if I could… just spend time with Lily. To see what it felt like. To see if I could do it.”

Sam spoke then. “I didn’t know how to tell you. It was innocent at first. Then it became our thing, and I kept putting off telling you because it felt… weird to explain.”

“And now?” I asked quietly.

“I’m moving to Phoenix this weekend,” Ella said. “I’m adopting a little girl. Her name is Maya. She’s four.”

She reached into her purse and pulled out a photo. A little girl with big eyes and braided hair smiled up at me.

“She’s waiting for me. This… these Wednesdays, they helped me believe I could be her mom.”

I stared at the picture. Then at Ella. And Sam. And Lily, now happily chatting with a barista about marshmallows.

No affair. Just secrets.

Still betrayal. But maybe not the kind I feared.

“I’m glad you’re adopting,” I said. “But don’t ever involve my child in secrets again.”

Ella nodded quickly. “Of course.”

Sam reached for my hand, his face pale. “I’m sorry.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to. I just held Lily’s hand as we walked to the car—our daughter, our family—trying to figure out how to move forward from here. Not with secrets. Not again.