Mark’s car turned down a quiet street as I followed at a safe distance, my heart pounding. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my mind racing back to Lisa’s innocent voice saying, *”Daddy and I have lots of secrets.”*
I wasn’t the paranoid type, but something about the way that woman spoke, so confident, so **certain**, made my stomach twist.
Mark finally pulled into a small, dimly lit parking lot. A restaurant—not one of the fancy ones, but **a cozy, tucked-away place perfect for private meetings.**
I parked a few spaces back, turned off my headlights, and watched. A few minutes later, **a woman stepped out of a black sedan.**
She was tall, elegant, and moved like she had all the time in the world.
Mark got out of his car and walked toward her. **And then, he hugged her.**
I felt the air leave my lungs.
### **Confrontation**
I didn’t wait. I got out of my car and marched toward them.
Mark noticed me first—his face went from shock to panic. The woman turned, looking amused.
I crossed my arms. “Mark. Want to introduce me?”
He opened his mouth, but the woman beat him to it. “Ah, you must be Lisa’s mom,” she said smoothly.
Hearing my daughter’s name from *her* lips made my blood boil.
“Who the hell are you?” I demanded.
She smiled. “Relax. I’m Rachel.” She turned to Mark. “You didn’t tell her?”
My fingers clenched into fists.
Mark stammered, “It’s not— It’s not what you think—”
“Oh, really?” I shot back. “Because my *five-year-old* just answered your phone and overheard you two talking about *secrets.*”
Rachel tilted her head. “She wasn’t supposed to answer.”
I turned my glare to Mark. “Tell me the truth. Right now.”
Mark swallowed hard. “Rachel is—” He hesitated.
Rachel sighed, clearly losing patience. “I’m his **sister.**”
Silence.
My breath caught. “What?”
Mark ran a hand through his hair. “I found out a few months ago that I have a half-sister. My mom had a baby before she met my dad and gave her up for adoption. Rachel tracked me down.”
I stared between them. “And you didn’t think to *tell me*?”
Mark exhaled. “I was trying to figure out how. And Rachel…” He glared at her. “She has a weird sense of humor.”
Rachel shrugged. “Guilty. But hey, if your marriage is this fragile, that’s not on me.”
I wanted to scream at her, at Mark, at this entire situation. Instead, I turned to my husband.
“We’re talking about this later.” Then I shot Rachel a cold look. “And you? Stay away from my daughter until I decide if I trust you.”
I walked away, my pulse still racing.
### **The Aftermath**
That night, after Mark and I had a *long* talk, I kissed Lisa goodnight.
As I turned to leave, she whispered, **”Mommy, is Daddy still keeping secrets?”**
I hesitated. Then I smiled softly. “Not anymore, sweetheart.”
But deep down, I wasn’t sure if I believed that.