He swallowed. “Did Dad do something bad?”

Emily sat next to him and took his hand. Every instinct told her to shield him, but another, sharper instinct told her not to lie. Not tonight. Not after what lies had done to their home.

“Yes,” she said. “He did.”

Noah looked down. “With Aunt Lisa?”

Emily closed her eyes briefly. “Yes.”

He nodded once, suddenly older than thirteen. “I heard yelling.”

“I know.”

After settling him with a promise that he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone that night, she went to the bedroom she had shared with Daniel for sixteen years and pulled a suitcase from the closet. Daniel stood in the doorway.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m packing for you.”

“Emily, don’t do this.”

She folded shirts with mechanical precision. “You don’t get to say that.”

“Where am I supposed to go?”

She looked at him. “That’s an incredible question to ask the woman whose life you just detonated.”

He said nothing.

At midnight, he left for a hotel.