At exactly 11:47 on Christmas Eve, my husband accidentally sent me a photograph of himself in a hotel bed with his mistress while I was home alone caring for our two feverish babies.

hand was around her waist.”

“You’re turning one stupid photo into the destruction of our family.”

“No.”

My voice grew firmer.

“You did that.”

He inhaled sharply.

“Your father put you up to this.”

Dad looked almost bored.

“No.”

“Your grandmother?”

“No.”

“Harris?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

I glanced at my wrist.

“Because I finally believe myself.”

For once, Cole had no response.

Then he made the mistake that removed my remaining hesitation.

“If you file anything, Lauren, this gets ugly.”

Dad closed his eyes.

Mother gripped my hand.

“Is that