Chapter 3: The Secret Behind Adrian's Name
Marcus slept in the guest room that night.
Not because he had decided to end his marriage. Not because he had forgiven Danielle. He simply couldn't bear to lie beside her while the question of another man occupied the space between them.
At 2:17 a.m., he sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees, staring at a framed photograph on the dresser.
It showed him and Danielle at their wedding.
She was laughing, her head tipped back, one hand resting against his chest. Marcus remembered how nervous he'd been before the ceremony. He had practiced his vows in the bathroom mirror and nearly forgotten the ring in his jacket pocket.
Danielle had squeezed his hand at the altar.
“Whatever happens,” she'd whispered, “we're a team.””
He had believed that promise with the certainty of a man who had built his future around it.
Now he wondered whether she had meant it when she said it.
His phone vibrated.
A message from Danielle.
I'm sorry. I know that's not enough. I just need you to let me explain everything tomorrow.
Marcus typed a reply.
I need the truth, not another promise.
He sent it, then turned his phone facedown.
At sunrise, he gave up trying to sleep.
He showered, dressed in a plain gray T-shirt and dark jeans, and went downstairs. Danielle was already in the kitchen, standing beside the coffee maker with two mugs on the counter.
She wore an oversized sweatshirt and had tied her twists back from her face. Her eyes were swollen, and she looked as though she'd spent the night listening for footsteps in the hallway.
“I made coffee,” she said.
Marcus opened the refrigerator.
“I'm not hungry.””
“There's oatmeal. I can make eggs.””
“Danielle, please.””
She stopped.
He took a bottle of water from the refrigerator and leaned against the counter.
“We're going to have a conversation. You are going to answer my questions. If you don't know an answer, say you don't know.
If you're afraid to tell me something, say that. But no more half-truths.””
She nodded.
“Okay.””
“Start with Adrian.””
She sat at the kitchen table.
Marcus remained standing.
“You said he helped you when your father got sick. Then you started talking. How did it become an affair?””
Danielle rubbed her thumb over the edge of her coffee mug.
“I was overwhelmed. Dad's recovery was slow, and I was managing his appointments, working full-time, and trying to keep up with the house. I was also worried about you.””
“Worried about me how?””
“You sounded different on the phone.””
Marcus said nothing.
She continued.
“You'd tell me you were fine, but sometimes you'd go quiet in the middle of a conversation. I'd ask what happened, and you'd say you couldn't talk about it. I knew you were dealing with things you couldn't share with me.””
“That's part of deployment.””
“I know that now. But at the time, I felt shut out.””
“So you let another man in.””
She flinched.
“Yes.””
“Did you tell him you were unhappy with me?””
“Sometimes.””
“What did you say?””
“That I missed you. That I was tired of being alone. That I didn't know how to help you when you were struggling.””
Marcus looked away.
He could not fault her for wanting him home. He had wanted the same thing every day.
But there was a difference between telling someone you were lonely and letting that person become a secret part of your marriage.
“How many times?”” he asked.
Danielle stared at her hands.
“I don't know exactly.””
“Try.””
“Four or five.””
The kitchen seemed to shrink around them.
Marcus had expected a number. He had not expected to feel the number physically, as though each encounter had left a mark on the walls of their house.
“Was it just sex?””
She shook her head.
“No.””
“Did you love him?””
“I thought I cared about him. I don't think I understood what it was.””
“That's convenient.””
“It's true.””
“Did you tell him you would leave me?””
“No.””
“Did he ask you to?””
“Not at first.””
Marcus's gaze sharpened.
“What happened later?””
Danielle picked up her mug, then set it down without drinking.
“He wanted more. He wanted me to tell you about us. He said he couldn't keep being someone I pretended not to know.””
“And you ended it.””
“Yes.””
“Because you chose me?””
“Because I wanted my marriage back.””
Marcus shook his head slowly.
“You don't get to decide that by yourself.””
“I know.””
“You don't get to betray me and then announce that everything is back to normal because you're sorry.””
“I know, Marcus.””
He looked at her face.
She wasn't arguing now. She wasn't trying to make herself look innocent. She sat in the kitchen where they had shared hundreds of ordinary mornings, crying quietly into her hands.
It would have been easier if she had been cruel.
It would have been easier if she had blamed him.
Instead, she looked like the woman he loved and the stranger who had hurt him at the same time.
He pulled out the chair opposite her.
“Tell me about the night you got pregnant.””
Danielle went still.
“I don't remember the exact date.””
“Then find it.””
She took out her phone and opened the calendar. Her fingers moved slowly across the screen.
Finally, she turned it toward him.
The date was marked with a small note: *Dad's follow-up.*
Marcus stared at it.
“That was the week before I came home.””
“Yes.””
“You were still seeing him then?””
Danielle nodded.
He pushed his chair back.
“Were you planning to tell me when I arrived?””
“I was planning to end it.””
“That isn't what I asked.””
“No. I wasn't planning to tell you.””
He stood and walked to the window.
Outside, a delivery truck moved down the street. Their neighbor was watering a row of potted plants. The ordinary details of the morning made him feel as if he were watching somebody else's life through glass.
“When you found out you were pregnant,” he said, “why didn't you call Adrian?””
“I did.””
Marcus turned around.
“You said he didn't know.””
“I said he didn't know at first. I told him two weeks after I took the test.””
“What did he say?””
“He asked when my last period had been. He asked if I'd seen a doctor.””
“And then?””
“He said we needed to talk in person.””
“Did you meet him?””
“Yes.””
Marcus stared at her.
“When?””
“Last month.””
He felt a bitter laugh rise in his throat, but he swallowed it.
“While I was home. While you were sleeping beside me.””
“I know.””
“What did he tell you?””
Danielle pressed both hands against her face.
“He said the baby might not be yours.””
Marcus's stomach tightened.
“Did he say he was the father?””
“He said the dates didn't make sense.””
“What dates?””
“The dates of my last period. The date we were together. He said I should get a medical opinion before I told you anything.””
Marcus paced once across the kitchen.
“Did you tell him the doctor could date the pregnancy?””
“I hadn't seen a doctor yet. I was scared.””
“So he knew about the pregnancy before I did, and you met him privately to discuss whether the baby was his.””
“Yes.””
“And you still came home and let me believe everything was normal.””
Danielle began to cry again.
“I was going to tell you.””
“When?””
“I don't know.””
“After the baby was born?””
“No!””
“After I signed the birth certificate? After I spent years raising a child while wondering whether you had lied to me?””
She stood so abruptly that her chair scraped the floor.
“I never wanted to hurt you!””
“But you did!””
His voice echoed against the kitchen walls.
Danielle covered her mouth.
Marcus took a step back, forcing himself to lower his voice.
“I need to know whether this child could be mine.””
“I don't know.””
“Then we find out.””
She nodded.
“Okay.””
“And until then, I don't want you telling anyone that I'm the father. Not your sister. Not your parents. Nobody.””
Her face tightened.
“Marcus, the baby is going to need a father.””
He stared at her.
“Don't use our child to make me feel guilty for asking a question you created.””
She lowered her eyes.
For several seconds, he heard only the refrigerator humming.
Then she said, “There's another reason Adrian wanted to meet me.””
Marcus waited.
“He told me something about his family.””
“What?””
Danielle looked toward the hallway, as though she expected someone to appear there.
“His mother raised him alone. He never knew his father. A few years ago, he started looking for him. He found out the man had been stationed overseas around the time he was conceived.””
Marcus felt a strange unease.
“Lots of people are stationed overseas.””
“I know.””
“Where was his father stationed?””
Danielle hesitated.
“Germany, at first. Then he was transferred to another base.””
“Which base?””
“I don't remember the name.””
“Danielle.””
“He showed me a photograph. His father was wearing a military uniform.””
Marcus felt his pulse quicken.
“Was it an American uniform?””
“Yes.””
“Did you see the name?””
“No. The picture was old.””
He searched her expression, looking for a connection he could understand.
“Why are you telling me this now?””
“Because Adrian said the family history might matter. He said he had found a record that connected his father to someone in your unit.””
Marcus stared at her.
“My unit?””
“He didn't explain it properly.””
“What exactly did he say?””
Danielle swallowed.
“He said that before I made any decisions about the baby, I needed to know who his father was.””
Marcus's mind raced through the men he'd served with, the bases he'd visited, and the years of his life that existed before he met Danielle.
He had no reason to think Adrian's family history had anything to do with him.
But something about the way Danielle spoke suggested she was withholding more than she understood.
He took out his phone.
“Give me his number.””
She looked alarmed.
“Marcus, please don't—”
“His number.””
After a long pause, she read it aloud.
Marcus entered the digits and pressed call.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
A man's voice answered.
“Danielle?””
Marcus tightened his grip on the phone.
“No. This is Marcus Williams.””
Silence.
Then the man said, “I was wondering when you'd call.””
Marcus's expression hardened.
“You know who I am?””
“Of course I do.””
“Then you know why I'm calling.””
“I assume it's about the baby.””
“You assume correctly.””
The man exhaled.
“Listen, Marcus. I don't want to make this harder than it already is.””
“Then start by telling me the truth.””
“About what?””
“Who you are. What happened between you and my wife. And why you think you have any say in my child's future.””
Another silence followed.
Then Adrian spoke in a quieter voice.
“I'm not sure the child is yours.””
Marcus closed his eyes briefly.
“I know. That's why I'm calling.””
“No, you don't understand. I'm not talking about the dates.””
Marcus opened his eyes.
“Then what are you talking about?””
Adrian took a breath.
“My mother kept a box of documents after she died. Letters, old photographs, copies of military records. I found them while clearing out her house.””
Marcus said nothing.
“One of the letters mentioned your surname,” Adrian continued.
“Williams.””
A cold sensation moved through Marcus's chest.
“There are thousands of people named Williams.””
“I know.””
“Then tell me what the letter said.””
“I can't explain it over the phone.””
“You seem to have plenty to say when my wife is involved.””
“That was a mistake.””
“Which part?””
“Being with her. Not telling you about the records sooner.””
Marcus's fingers tightened around the phone.
“You're going to meet me today.””
“I can't.””
“Then I'll find you.””
“Marcus, listen to me. The information I found might change how you understand all of this. But I need to verify it first.””
“Verify what?””
Adrian hesitated.
Then he said, “Your father.””
Marcus stopped breathing for a moment.
His father, David Williams, had died when Marcus was nineteen. A sudden heart attack had taken him before Marcus could finish college, before he could tell him about his plans for the Army, before he could ask the questions grown men eventually realized they should have asked their fathers.
“What about my father?”” Marcus demanded.
Adrian's voice dropped.
“My mother's letter says he knew my father.””
Marcus gripped the edge of the kitchen counter.
“That doesn't mean anything.””
“I know how it sounds.””
“No. You don't know anything about my family.””
“Then meet me, and I'll show you the documents.””
Marcus stared at Danielle, who had gone pale beside the kitchen table.
“Where?””
Adrian gave him an address in downtown Atlanta.
“Come alone,” he added.
Marcus almost ended the call.
Then Adrian said one final thing.
“Bring a photograph of your father, if you have one. Because when you see the picture my mother kept, you're going to understand why she never told me the whole story.””
The call disconnected.
Marcus lowered the phone slowly.
Danielle was staring at him.
“What did he say?”” she whispered.
Marcus looked at the woman he had married, the woman carrying a child whose paternity remained uncertain, and the woman who had apparently become entangled in a secret reaching further back than their marriage.
“He wants me to meet him.””
“Don't go.””
“Why?””
She shook her head, tears gathering again.
“Because I think he knows something neither of us is ready to hear.””
Marcus looked down at the phone.
Then he looked at the wedding photograph on the kitchen shelf, where his father's face appeared in the background, smiling beside the bride and groom.
For the first time that morning, his anger gave way to something colder.
Fear.
Because if Adrian was telling the truth, this was no longer just a story about an affair.
May you like
It was a story about his father.
And Marcus had just agreed to meet the only man who might know why.