The expression on his face changed instantly.
“Rachel.”
The woman stepped backward, clearly realizing this conversation wasn’t hers.
I looked at Edward.
“Jamie saw you Tuesday.”
He went still.
“He saw you leave the lunch by the trash.”
“Rachel—”
“And he saw the suit.”
My voice shook.
“He saw you getting into this woman’s car.”
Edward stepped toward me.
“I’m not having an affair.”
“Then tell me what this is.”
I pointed toward him.
“The clothes. The lunches. Her. This building.”
He looked at the woman.
Then at me.
“Come inside.”
I followed them through the doors.
The lobby stopped me almost immediately.
Architectural models covered one wall.
Beautiful miniature buildings.
Bridges.
Hospitals.
Libraries.
Large professional photographs hung along another wall.
A polished sign behind reception read:
MERIDIAN ARCHITECTURE GROUP.
Then I noticed a display case.
Awards.
Certificates.
Photographs from completed projects.
And in several of those photographs stood a man who looked exactly like my husband.
Because it was my husband.
I slowly turned around.
Edward stood behind me.
He looked at those photographs differently than I had ever seen him look at anything.
Like someone standing inside a place he belonged.
“This is my firm,” he said.
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Meridian.”
He swallowed.
“I own it.”
I couldn’t speak.
“I’ve owned it for nine years.”
“You’re an architect?”
“Yes.”
I actually sat down.
There was a chair near reception, and my legs suddenly decided they were finished supporting me.
“Nine years?”
“Yes.”
“Jamie is ten.”
“I know.”
I stared at him.
“So for almost his entire life, you’ve been…”
I couldn’t even finish.
“Why?”
Edward sat across from me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He looked down.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“When you met me, I really was a construction worker.”
He rubbed his hands together.
“That’s who you fell in love with. The guy wearing boots and dusty work clothes. The man who came home exhausted and didn’t know which fork to use at your mother’s dinner table.”
“Edward…”
“I thought if I became something else, maybe I wouldn’t be the person you loved anymore.”
I stared at him.
“That makes no sense.”
“I know.”
He nodded.
“It sounds cowardly because it was.”
“You didn’t trust me.”
He was quiet.
Finally, he said,
“No. I didn’t.”
The woman from the car appeared again.
“I’m going upstairs,” she said. “Take your time.”
Then she left.
I looked after her.
“Who is she?”
“Margaret Chen. My business partner.”
“You started this company together?”
“Yes.”
“And she knows about me?”
“Yes.”
“How long has she been telling you to tell me?”
Edward almost looked embarrassed.
“Since the first week.”
I laughed once, without humor.
“So she knew this would become a disaster nine years ago.”
“Yes.”
“She was right.”
“Completely.”
I looked around at the architectural models.
“Have I ever been inside one of your buildings?”
Edward hesitated.
“Three.”
My head snapped toward him.
“Which ones?”
“The children’s hospital on Grant Street.”
I stared.
“The library extension on the east side.”
Then he paused.
“And the pedestrian bridge.”
My stomach dropped.
“I’ve walked across that bridge.”
“I know.”
“I sent you a photograph when it opened.”
“I remember.”
“I told you it was beautiful.”
“I know.”
I couldn’t believe it.
I had sent my husband a photograph of something he had designed and told him how beautiful it was.
And he had simply thanked me.
“Does Jamie know?”
“No.”
“Does anyone know?”
“My professional name is E. Cole. The business license is held through a company. The firm uses this address, not our home address.”
He looked ashamed.
“I constructed an entire second life and kept telling myself I would explain next year.”
“Nine next years.”
“Yes.”
I looked at his suit.
“And the overalls?”
“I put them on every morning.”
“You actually dress like a construction worker just to leave the house?”
“Yes.”
“And then you change here?”
“At the corner.”
“And you change back before coming home?”
“Yes.”
“For nine years?”
“Yes.”
I covered my face.
Then another question hit me.
“The lunches.”
Edward was quiet.
“What happened to the food?”
“There’s a man named Robert.”
I lowered my hands.
“What?”
