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Not because Philip was bisexual and had never told me. That wasn't what hurt. What hurt was that he'd made choices that affected both of us without giving me the information I needed to protect myself. That he’d lied by omission about his monogamy. And that he'd betrayed me, the kids, and everyone else around him for what? I couldn't understand it.

Then the attorney called again a few days later.

"There is one more thing you should know about the apartment."

I gripped the edge of the table.

"What?"

"The man investigators believe was Philip's boyfriend had been living there."

My breath caught.

"Living there?"

"That's what the evidence indicates. Investigators found his belongings there, and they found clothes and toiletries belonging to Philip as well. Enough that it appears Philip was staying there regularly, possibly living there part of the time or had at some time, or was planning to. I don't know. I asked him, and he told me it had been a mistake and that's all he would say."

My stomach dropped so violently that I had to lean forward and put my head down for a moment.

The apartment hadn't just been somewhere Philip went when he wanted to see someone.

He'd furnished it. Paid for it. Kept his things there. It had been a second home away from home. A home he'd shared with another man. I sat back slowly, my hands trembling in my lap.

"How long?" I asked, but the attorney could only give me the same answer as before.

"We don't know yet."

Of course they didn't.

I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers against them until I saw flashes of light.

I'd spent years believing I knew where my husband was. I knew where he worked. I knew where he slept. I knew what he did when he traveled.

I hadn't known any of it. I called his parents that evening. I wanted them to hear this from me. I didn't want another investigator or lawyer or some future news report to tell them what had happened to their son's marriage.

His mother answered, and I could hear the strain in her voice. "Darren?"

"I need to tell you something."

"What's happened?"

"The investigators found more about the apartment."

She was silent.

"They believe Philip's boyfriend, his PA, George, had been living there."

"Oh."

"And they found Philip's clothes there. Toiletries. His things. Enough that they think he was staying there regularly. So it wasn't a place to, you know, go for a quick bit of whatever instead of a hotel. It was his home, and Philip had...He'd..." My voice trailed off, unable to finish that sentence.

His mother made a small, broken sound.

I took a breath, but it caught halfway down. "I need to ask you something."

"Anything."

"Do you think this means he didn't love me anymore?"