My Husband’s Secret Affair with Our Babysitter

Prologue

Sophie

The first time I hold her, I forget how to breathe.

She’s so small. So impossibly small, with her scrunched-up face and tiny fingers that curl around nothing, grasping at air like she’s already reaching for the world. My daughter. My Anna.

“She has your nose,” Caleb says from beside me, and I look up at him through tears I didn’t realize were falling.

He’s holding her now, cradling her against his chest like she’s made of glass, and my heart swells so big I think it might burst. This man. This beautiful, perfect man chose me. Married me. Gave me this gift.

“You think so?” I whisper, because my voice won’t work properly.

“I know so.” He smiles down at Anna, and it’s the softest I’ve ever seen him. “She’s going to be trouble, this one. I can already tell.”

I laugh, and it comes out watery and broken and so full of joy I can barely contain it. “She gets that from you.”

“Excuse me?” He looks up, mock offense on his face. “I’m a delight.”

“You’re a menace.”

“Your menace.” He leans down and kisses my forehead, and I close my eyes and let myself sink into this moment. Into the smell of hospital antiseptic and new baby and the cologne Caleb always wears. Into the steady beep of monitors and the soft sounds of Anna’s breathing.

I did it. We did it.

“I love you,” I tell him, because I need him to know. Because I need to say it out loud while everything is perfect, while the world is still golden and soft around the edges. “I love you so much.”

Caleb looks at me, and something flickers in his eyes. Something I don’t recognize. But then he smiles, and it’s gone.

“I love you too, Soph.” He shifts Anna in his arms, adjusting her weight. “Both of you. My girls.”

I reach out and touch Anna’s cheek, marveling at how soft she is. How new. She’s only been in this world for three hours, and already I would burn cities for her. Already I would tear apart anyone who tried to hurt her.

“We’re going to be so happy,” I say. “The three of us.”

Caleb doesn’t answer. He’s looking at Anna, his expression unreadable.

But I don’t notice. I’m too busy being the luckiest woman in the whole world.

I’m too busy being in love.

I have no idea that in one year, this man will try to destroy me. That the hands cradling my daughter so gently will curl into fists meant for my face. That the mouth whispering sweet things will twist into something cruel and unrecognizable.

I have no idea that I’ll run from him with nothing but my baby and a shattered heart.

But right now, in this hospital room, surrounded by flowers and congratulations cards and the promise of a beautiful future, I don’t know any of that.

Right now, I’m just happy.

And that makes what comes next so much worse.