“Which procedure would that be?” I inquire.

“Mrs. Carrington, he has only used our office for one. A vasectomy,” she answers casually.

My immediate reaction is to laugh. “Thank you for the call, Judy, but I think you have the files mixed-up. My husband hasn’t had a vasectomy. In fact, we have been trying to get pregnant.”

“Oh my! I’m so sorry. Can you please verify his name and birthday and I can double-check the file?”

“Of course. Jack Carrington and his birthday is June 4, 1986.” I give her the information she is requesting, but there is an edge of agitation in my voice at how they can be so unprofessional and unorganized with personal information. How could they possibly make this big of a mistake with a person’s chart?

“That is correct. I have this phone number listed as a secondary phone number. Can you please tell me the primary address that is listed?”

“805 Sunridge Road Westminster, Colorado,” I answer.

“All right, there is our issue. I have a New York address listed as the primary. I’m so sorry to bother you, ma’am. I will continue to call the primary number listed and get this situated.”

Buzzers go off in my head. New York. Could Jack really have done this and used his work office for correspondence?

“Wait,” I tell her before she hangs up on me. “My husband works most days in New York right now on business. The address would be 1100 West 52nd Street, New York. Is that what’s listed?”

I hold back my tears and hang onto the tiny sliver of hope that this is just a misunderstanding. When I hear her confirm the address, everything fades out. Gripping the phone, I slide down the couch onto the floor. My cries break through the silence and I immediately attempt to stifle my sobs.

“Ma’am, are you still there?” I hear Judy ask. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

I clear my throat, take a deep breath, and gather the strength to respond. “I’m here. Sorry. It seems the file is my husband’s. Please go ahead with whatever you need to ask to get the situation corrected.”

“Well, we billed the insurance company for the procedure, but the deductible has not been met for the year, and the insurance is placing the entire procedure toward the deductible. We attempted to bill at the address listed, but the bills have been returned. We have been trying to get ahold of him for payment and a current address to send the bill.”

My breathing has finally calmed, but instead of the sadness I thought would overtake me, rage is the only feeling I’m consumed with. Rage for everything he has secretly taken away from me, from our family. I had a feeling something was off with Jack. I even mentioned it to Jen at Vivian’s baby shower, but I never would have imagined he would have done something like this.

“Please use this Colorado address for the bill. I will see to it that it gets paid,” I tell her before hanging up the phone.

My body is motionless, but the wheels turn in my head as I desperately try to put the pieces together. If he had this done in New York, it’s entirely possible I wouldn’t have known about it. He’s been gone for weeks at a time, and with the stress of the job and the issues we’ve been having getting pregnant, we haven’t been intimate much. I jog through my mental calendar, and ‘very little sex’ is putting it lightly. We haven’t had sex in months. I have tried to instigate, but he always had some excuse as to why he wasn’t in the mood. Since when is a man not in the mood? Now it makes sense.

He’s hiding things from me.

Catching my breath and my bearings, I call the only person I can think of who would know what to do without completely going rogue.

I call Campbell.

After hysterically explaining my discovery, she not only talks me off the ledge, but insists I stay quiet about it with Jack. As nicely as she can, she infers there is probably a lot more that Jack is keeping from me, and to really find out, I have to pull myself together. I agree to meet her tomorrow while Jack is at work to figure out the details and plan out what she calls an inquisition intervention.

I hear the garage door opening as I’m hanging up the phone with her, so I rush to the kitchen to pull something together for dinner. Usually, I would have it finished and laid out pristinely on the table by now.

Not today.

In the last hour, my life has been put on pause while my brain rewinds every conversation Jack and I have had, every interaction between us is replayed in an attempt to figure out what has happened. I know things have been off, but this still feels like a boulder-sized curveball.

My back is turned away from the door, but I can hear every movement as Jack enters the house. Even though it feels like my senses are heightened beyond measure, his routine is so predictable I could describe what he will do before he does it. Briefcase and coat on the bench in the entry, shoes are kicked off underneath. They are things I routinely have to put away for him.

“Hey, hun. How are my girls doing?” Jack says wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my cheek. I fight my instinct to peel his hands off me and confront him. I remember what Cam told me though, and plaster a fake smile on my face and relax my tense muscles.

“We are good. Liv is in the playroom coloring. We just got home not too long ago from grocery shopping, so we are running a little behind.”

“Dinner in like an hour then?” he asks.

“I’m making shrimp scampi, so it will be more like thirty minutes. I just need time for the noodles to soften.”

He smiles, grabs a bag with presents no doubt, and leaves the kitchen in search of Olivia. When I hear squeals and laughter, my gift suspicions are confirmed.

“You’re quiet tonight; did you have a rough day?” Jack asks as he breaks apart a piece of buttery French bread and shoves it into his lying mouth.

Am I quiet? You bet. I’ve only said a few words and they have mainly been directed at Olivia. I don’t really have anything I want to say to Jack. No, I take that back. I have a lot to say to Jack; I’m just not ready to say it. If he really did go behind my back and have this procedure done without discussing it with me, I haven’t figured out how to process that.

“Just busy, that’s all,” I lie. “I put some calls into some adoption agencies and to the county’s child services department.” I add just as he puts another mouthful in. I made no such calls, but I want to see his reaction. His choking on a messy swirl of noodles and sauce, is the exact reaction I was expecting.

“I thought we already went over this, babe?” he says once he catches his breath. “We were going to keep things the way they are.”

“I don’t remember coming to any kind of agreement. I wanted to explore our options a bit more.” I take a slow sip of my white wine and slide the goblet back onto the table. “If you would rather, we can do another round of testing on both of us to give that route another try.”

His eyes widen slightly, but he recovers quickly. I saw it though. The lie was there in his eyes. I’ve known this man a long time, and while I’ve been pretty blind at times, I’m not this time. I see what my heart couldn’t believe. He’s not the man I married. Whatever else he’s hiding, I don’t know, but at least now I can believe he is keeping me in the dark. What he doesn’t know, though, is I’m going to try like hell to find the light…find the whole truth.

Campbell

“Is Carly all right?” Lakin asks as he opens the car door of his Beamer for me. The warm breeze attacks the ruffles on my silky shirt and sends them flapping in the wind. I would usually be annoyed, but my tight, black pencil skirt is almost stifling, so I actually appreciate the breeze, warm or otherwise.