Tucker quickly answered.
“Emily, it’s not what it looks like. She’s just—”
I interrupted him.
“Go ahead, Tucker. Tell her who I am.”
He looked trapped.
“Lauren, please. Let me explain.”
Emily frowned.
“Tucker, who is this woman?”
I looked directly at her.
“I’m his wife.”
She froze.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Emily slowly shook her head.
“That can’t be right.”
“Why not?”
“He told me he was divorced.”
I stared at Tucker.
“Divorced?”
Emily looked increasingly distressed.
“He said you separated two years ago. He told me everything was finalized before we started seeing each other.”
I felt sick.
“Tucker and I have been married for seven years,” I said. “We live together. He left our house this morning.”
Emily brought one hand to her stomach.
“No…”
Her voice trembled.
“We’ve been together for almost a year.”
Almost a year.
