Chapter 3: The Confession
One Saturday morning, Ada found herself staring at David across the breakfast table, watching him sip his coffee. The simplicity of the moment struck her—the sunlight in his hair, the gentle way he buttered his toast. And suddenly, the fear inside her rose like a tide.
"David," she said, her voice unsteady.
He looked up. "Yeah?"
"I need to tell you something."
He set his mug down, concern flickering across his face. "What is it?"
Ada's throat tightened. For years, she had buried the story of her father's betrayal, guarded it like a secret shame. But now, she knew it was eating her marriage alive.
"When I was seventeen," she began, "my father left. He told us he'd be back for dinner, but he never came home. I found out later he started another family in another town." Her hands shook as she gripped her cup. "My mother told me men can't be trusted. And… I think I've believed that ever since."
David reached across the table, taking her hand. His grip was warm, steady.
"Ada," he said softly, "I'm not your father. And I don't ever want to be measured by his mistakes."
Tears blurred her vision. "I know. I want to believe that. But sometimes I can't control it. The fear just—" she pressed a hand to her chest "—takes over."
For a long moment, David said nothing. Then he pulled her into his arms, holding her close.
"Then we'll face it together," he whispered.
And for the first time in years, Ada allowed herself to believe that maybe—just maybe—he meant it.