Chapter 2
Chapter Two
NOTHING’S CHANGED
I keep thinking the world should look different.
It does not.
The traffic light turns red. Two teenagers walk out of a grocery store, laughing. A couple walks along the sidewalk, holding hands, talking. A man sprays his driveway with a hose.
None of these people know my husband kissed our nanny in my kitchen hours ago.
None of these people—or myself, truthfully—know what else has been going on besides just a kiss…
I keep driving.
There is no other option right now.
Not yet.
I open the front door to the happy house and the first thing I hear is the baby laughing.
My sweet Noah.
Paige sits on the floor with him, gently hitting two blocks together, making noises, shaking her head.
Noah enjoys the entertainment.
Apparently, so does my husband.
Gavin stands in the kitchen making coffee.
The house smells warm. Clean. Normal.
Too normal.
“Hey,” Gavin says.
He walks over and kisses my cheek.
I let him.
“How was the cafe?”
“Fine,” I say, telling myself not to be cold or dry.
“This little guy had a day,” Paige’s voice says from behind me. I turn and she’s holding Noah. “He ate. He napped. A little fussy throughout the day, but nothing more than twenty minutes or so. Maybe he’s starting to teeth already?”
Everything Paige says sounds so cheerful and efficient.
… but nothing more than twenty minutes or so…
Is she referring to my baby or my husband?
I listen to her talk about Noah and my eyes keep gravitating toward her hands, knowing they have been touching my husband.
Gavin pours me a cup of coffee and I retreat to the dining room table.
To sit and think.
To reflect.
Maybe to remember.
I tell myself this should feel impossible.
It doesn’t, not completely.
I think about the little things I have been ignoring lately.
Gavin working from home more often.
Gavin asking exactly what time Paige arrives.
Gavin telling me Paige should stay late because I look tired.
Gavin defending Paige when I say she forgot to wash bottles.
Gavin getting irritated when I come home early.
None of it was proof.
Suddenly, it all feels like evidence.
Later, I have Noah in my arms and I'm carrying him into the kitchen.
I look at the counter.
The same counter.
The same chair with Gavin’s jacket now gone.
The same room where I make bottles, cut fruit and stand barefoot at two in the morning trying to cry from exhaustion.
Nothing in the room has changed.
I have.
The nanny cam still sits on the counter, slightly tucked away, almost hidden behind the fancy metal fruit bowl.
I pick it up and turn it over in my hand.
I pretend like I’m checking the settings.
I wipe underneath it with the edge of a towel.
Paige stops talking.
I catch her as she looks at Gavin.
Not at me. At him.
“Does this thing save everything automatically?” I ask, keeping my voice light.
“Only motion clips,” Gavin answers, almost jumping up. “Why?”
I shrug.
“It kept sending me alerts today. We were slammed at the cafe so I couldn’t check. I thought maybe something was wrong?”
Paige remains quiet.
Gavin smiles, but it’s a very tight smile. “Probably just her moving around.”
Her.
Not Paige.
Her.
Like he needs distance between the woman standing ten feet away and the woman he kissed.
I nod. I set the camera back down.
I keep moving along, acting bored, as though nothing’s happening.
Now for the rest of the day, I pay attention.
Close attention.
I watch where Paige stands. I watch how Gavin talks to her.
I notice they never get too close while I’m in the room.
I notice Paige avoids looking at the counter, at the camera.
Shame? Guilt?
I notice Gavin checks his phone twice in less than a minute.
They are careful now.
That means they know there is something to hide.
I feed Noah.
I ask Gavin what he wants for dinner.
I thank Paige before she leaves.
I tell her I will see her tomorrow.
She smiles and says, “Of course. I can’t wait. I love it here.”
The words sound wrong.
She suddenly starts to blush and hurries away.
My jaw tightens.
Everything right now sounds wrong.
Later in the evening, I take Noah upstairs, ready for our nightly routine. I secretly hope tonight is one of those rare nights where he falls asleep quickly and stays asleep.
I pause in the hallway and hear Gavin moving around in the kitchen below me.
I know then exactly what Paige saw when I touched that camera.
She saw a big mistake. A boo-boo, in baby terms.
That camera wasn’t supposed to be there, but it was.
And besides a mistake, Paige saw a problem. A big problem.
And when she looked at my husband, she told me without speaking a word exactly who she expected to fix it.