I’d always trusted my husband, but a secret between him and our son made me question everything. When I investigated, I saw something that left me wondering how well I knew the man I’d married.
The first thing I saw when I pushed open that red door was my husband holding another woman’s hand!
The second was the way he looked at her.
“Promise you’ll come back tomorrow,” the woman said.
“You know I will,” Karson replied.
The first thing I saw.
Then he brushed something from her cheek.
My stomach dropped.
I’d followed my husband across town because I suspected he was hiding something. But standing there, watching him touch another woman’s face, I wished I’d stayed home.
My stomach dropped.
Then she asked something that made everything worse. “Your wife still doesn’t know about me, does she?”
Karson shook his head. “Not yet.”
I stepped backward before either of them noticed me.
Whatever Karson was hiding, our five-year-old son also knew about it.
And somehow, that frightened me even more.
Karson shook his head.
Karson and I had been married for eight years.
My name’s Lorelei. I’m 32, and our son, Grant, was five.
Grant adored his dad.
They were always inventing games, but recently, their favorite had been “secret agents.”
Grant adored his dad.
They’d crawl around the living room with toy walkie-talkies, hide behind the sofa, and give everything ridiculous code names.
Our kitchen became “Base One.”
My car was “The Blue Eagle.”
Even our dog, Biscuit, became “Agent Fluffy.”
So when Grant started whispering “red door” every morning after Karson left for work, I assumed it was another game.
They’d crawl around the living room.
One morning, Karson grabbed his keys. “See you tonight.”
Grant gave him a serious little salute. “Mission accepted!”
Karson laughed. “Good man!”
The second our front door closed, Grant whispered, “Red door.”
“See you tonight.”
I smiled. “Another spy code?”
Grant looked at me. “No.”
Something about his expression made me pause. “What does it mean, then?”
He lowered his voice. “That’s where Daddy takes his funny-smelling friend for pancakes.”
I stopped. “What friend?”
“What does it mean?”
“The lady.”
“What lady, Grant?”
He shrugged. “The one Daddy knows.”
I crouched beside him. “Have you met her?”
He nodded. “Daddy took me too.”
“When?”
“When you were busy.”
“What lady, Grant?”
Then, my son leaned closer. “But Daddy said it was secret-agent stuff, so I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”
My heart sank.
Karson had never given me a reason to suspect him of cheating.
But why was he taking our son to meet a woman I’d never heard of?
My heart sank.
That evening, I watched Karson play with Grant on the floor like nothing was wrong.
I said nothing.
The following morning, Karson kissed me goodbye. “Long day. Don’t wait up.”
“Okay.”
As soon as he left, I called my work and made an excuse.
Then called our neighbor, Linda, who’d watched Grant plenty of times before.
“Don’t wait up.”
She’d agreed the previous day to look after him for a little while.
Then I followed Karson.
My husband drove straight past the turn toward his office.
Twenty minutes later, he pulled into a small parking lot and disappeared through a bright red door!
I followed Karson.
I waited until he’d gone inside, then crossed the lot and pushed the door open.
And there was my husband, sitting intimately with another woman.
I stepped outside and stood beside my car, trying to breathe.
The building was a diner.
There was my husband.
Through the window, I could see Karson and the woman still sharing a booth.
She looked much older than him, perhaps in her 60s. Her gray hair was tangled, and she wore a faded coat.
Several shopping bags rested beside her feet.
She wasn’t the woman I’d imagined.
She looked much older than him.
But that didn’t explain the secrecy.
I watched Karson slide a plate toward her.
Pancakes.
Of course.
The woman laughed at something he said, then squeezed his hand.
I felt ridiculous.
That didn’t explain the secrecy.
Was I really jealous of someone old enough to be his mother?
Then Karson took an envelope from his jacket.
He handed it to her.
She shook her head.
He pushed it toward her again.
Finally, she accepted it.
He handed it to her.
I couldn’t hear their conversation, but I saw her wipe her eyes.
A few minutes later, Karson stood, kissed the top of her head, and headed toward the exit.
I hurried back to my car.
By the time he drove away, my hands were shaking.
I saw her wipe her eyes.
That afternoon, I couldn’t concentrate.
I kept remembering the envelope.
Was Karson giving her money?
Was she someone from his past?
And why had he introduced Grant to her?
I couldn’t concentrate.
When Karson returned home, I watched him closely. “How was your day?”
“Busy.”
“Anything interesting happen?”
He shook his head. “Not really.”
I stared at him.
He’d lied straight to my face.
“How was your day?”
Grant ran into the room, holding his walkie-talkie. “Daddy! Agent Fluffy ate my secret map!”
Karson laughed and scooped him up. “That’s a serious security breach.”
Grant giggled.
Then he glanced at me. “Daddy, is the red door still a secret?”
Karson froze.
Only for a second.
But I noticed.
Karson froze.
“Buddy, why don’t you go feed Biscuit?”
Grant ran off.
I folded my arms. “What’s the red door?”
Karson looked at me. “Just something from our game.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Grant ran off.
My husband kissed my forehead and walked toward the bathroom.
I stood there, feeling something inside me crack.
He’d had another chance to tell me.
And he’d chosen another lie.
He’d had another chance to tell me.
The following day, I returned to the diner alone.
A woman in her 50s stood behind the counter. “Morning, sweetheart. Table for one?”
“Actually, I’m looking for someone. A woman with gray hair. She was here yesterday morning with a man.”
The woman’s smile faded. “Are you family?”
“I’m the man’s wife.”
I returned to the diner alone.
She studied my face. “Oh.”
Just one word.
But it made my stomach twist.
“I’m Rosie,” she said. “Why don’t you sit down?”
“How long has my husband been coming here?” I asked without moving.
Just one word.
“A couple of weeks.”
“With that woman?”
Rosie nodded. “Most mornings.”
I swallowed. “Who is she?”
“Her name’s Doris.”
“And what exactly is she to my husband?”
“Her name’s Doris.”
Rosie hesitated. “I think you should ask him.”
I almost laughed.
Everyone seemed determined to protect Karson’s secret. “Is she his girlfriend?”
Rosie’s eyebrows shot upward.
Before she could answer, the red door opened.
Doris walked in!
Alone.
“I think you should ask him.”
Doris stopped when she saw Rosie looking at me. “Everything okay?”
Rosie nodded. “Doris, this is…?”
“Lorelei,” I responded.
The woman’s expression changed. “Lorelei?”
“You know me?”
She stared at my face.
“Everything okay?”
Then, she teared up. “Oh, honey. You’re even prettier than your pictures!”
My throat tightened. “What?”
“The ones Karson showed me.”
I couldn’t speak.
Doris stepped closer. “Is something wrong?”
She teared up.
I wanted to ask a hundred questions.
Instead, I managed one. “Why does my husband come here to see you?”
Doris looked confused. “Hasn’t he told you?” She turned toward Rosie. “Oh, dear.”
Then she looked back at me. “Sweetheart, please sit down.”
“Hasn’t he told you?”
I shook my head.
“I’ve been thinking my husband is cheating on me. I saw him holding your hand yesterday. I saw him giving you something. And my son says I’m not supposed to know about you.”
Doris covered her mouth.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
“I saw him giving you something.”
Then Doris whispered, “Oh, that foolish boy.”
She pulled out a chair. “There’s something you need to know about Karson.”
And finally, I sat down.
Doris told me she’d known Grant’s father long before he met me!
“Oh, that foolish boy.”
Almost 11 years earlier, Karson had lost his job.
He couldn’t afford rent and had nowhere to stay.
