He left his jacket behind and was gone before I finished speaking.
I turned back to Alice, everything I’d been holding in rising all at once.
“How long has this been going on?”
Alice crossed her arms. “It’s not what it—”
“Alice. How long?” I cut in.
She exhaled. “A few weeks. He’d come when you were at work. I’d let him in while Mason was counting. He’d go straight to the bedroom, and I’d lock the door. Mason just thought it was part of the game.”
I stared at her. “You used my child as a cover. Do you understand what you just taught him? That adults can ask him to keep secrets from his mother.”
She tried to respond. I didn’t let her.
“You brought a stranger into my home. You wore my clothes without asking. You lit candles in my bedroom while my son played alone in the hallway. And you made him promise to keep secrets from me.” My voice dropped. “You’re fired. Get your things and go.”
“Please, Sheryl… I need this job, just let me explain…” she pleaded, stepping closer.
“There’s nothing to explain. I’m calling the agency today. And I’m posting in the neighborhood group tonight. Every parent considering you will know exactly what happened here.”
She grabbed her bag and left. The front door closed behind her with a final click that felt like relief.
My husband came home that evening to find me at the kitchen table with cold coffee and the full story waiting.
I told him everything. The dress. The candles. The man. Firing her.
And then, because he deserved the truth, I told him the rest—the suspicion, the call, the laughter, every conclusion I had jumped to on the drive home.
He listened quietly.
“You thought it was me?” he asked softly.
I saw the hurt in his eyes.
“Yes. I’m sorry,” I said.
He looked down for a long moment. “The laughing was Diane from accounting. It was her birthday lunch. We were in the middle of it when you called. Sheryl, if you were that scared, you should have told me.”
“I know. I should have.”
