PART 2 — THE WOMAN NAMED MARGUERITE
* * *
The next morning, I waited until Daniel left for work.
I watched him from the kitchen window.
He walked to his car exactly like he did every other day.
He kissed me goodbye.
He told me he loved me.
And I said the same words back.
But inside, something had changed.
For the first time in twenty years of marriage, I was hiding something from my husband.
The truth.
* * *
After his car disappeared down the road, I took the small piece of paper with Marguerite’s name and address written on it.
I placed it on the table.
I stared at it for several minutes.
A part of me still hoped I was wrong.
Maybe she was a business contact.
Maybe Daniel was helping someone.
Maybe there was an explanation that would make me feel foolish for doubting him.
But another part of me already knew.
People do not hide innocent things for two years.
* * *
I called my sister Anna.
She answered after the third ring.
“Hey, are you okay?”
I tried to speak normally.
But my voice betrayed me.
“Anna?”
“Yes?”
“I think Daniel is seeing someone else.”
There was silence on the other end.
“What?”
I closed my eyes.
Then I told her everything.
The monthly withdrawals.
The trips to Fairview.
The phone calls.
Marguerite.
The address.
Anna listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she was quiet for a long moment.
* * *
“Have you asked him about it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
I looked at the paper on the table.
“Because I’m afraid of his answer.”
Anna sighed softly.
“Maybe there’s another explanation.”
I almost laughed.
“Then why didn’t he tell me?”
I touched my wedding ring.
“Why did he have to hide it?”
Anna didn’t answer.
Because we both knew.
A secret always changes the meaning of the thing being hidden.
* * *
“Listen to me,” Anna said.
“Don’t make any decisions while you’re emotional.”
“I’m not emotional.”
She paused.
“You sound like someone who has already made a decision.”
I looked out the window.
“I need to know the truth.”
“Then talk to Daniel.”
“No.”
The word came out faster than I expected.
Anna became quiet.
“Why?”
“Because if he’s lying to me…”
I swallowed.
“I want to see it with my own eyes.”
* * *
That afternoon, I searched the address online.
Fairview.
The name appeared on the screen.
A small town about an hour away.
I zoomed in on the map.
The address was not near hotels.
Not near restaurants.
Not near apartments.
It was in an old industrial area.
That confused me.
If Daniel was meeting another woman…
Why would he go there?
* * *
I spent the entire night thinking.
I barely slept.
Every memory from our marriage played in my mind.
The day we bought our first house.
The night Daniel held my hand when my mother became sick.
The years we struggled financially.
The promises we made.
Were all those moments real?
Or had I been living inside a story that only I believed?
* * *
The next morning, Daniel sat across from me at breakfast.
He looked completely normal.
That almost hurt more.
He smiled.
He drank his coffee.
He asked about my plans for the day.
“Are you going somewhere?”
I looked at him.
“Just running some errands.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
Then he kissed my forehead.
A small gesture.
The same gesture he had done thousands of times.
But now it felt different.
Because I knew that a person could show love…
and still hide the truth.
* * *
After Daniel left, I packed a small bag.
Not because I was leaving forever.
Not yet.
But because I needed to feel prepared.
I called Anna.
“I’m going to Fairview.”
She immediately answered:
“No.”
I sighed.
“Anna—”
“Don’t go alone.”
“I have to.”
“What if you find something you can’t handle?”
I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
A woman who looked tired.
A woman who had spent two years ignoring her own instincts.
“I need to know.”
* * *
I got into my car.
The entire drive, my hands stayed tightly on the steering wheel.
I imagined every possible scenario.
A house.
An apartment.
A secret family.
A woman waiting for him.
A life he built without me.
Each possibility hurt.
But uncertainty hurt more.
* * *
After almost an hour, I arrived in Fairview.
I checked the address again.
My heart started beating faster.
I expected to see a home.
Maybe a beautiful house.
Maybe somewhere Daniel had been spending his time.
But instead…
I saw an old brick building.
Large windows.
A faded wooden sign above the door.
MARGUERITE’S RESTORATION
* * *
I frowned.
A restoration workshop?
I parked the car.
I sat there for several minutes.
I didn’t know whether I felt relieved or more confused.
This wasn’t what I expected.
If Marguerite was another woman…
why was she running a furniture restoration business?
I stepped out of the car.
The front door was slightly open.
I pushed it gently.
A familiar smell filled the air.
Old wood.
Polish.
Sawdust.
* * *
Inside were dozens of restored furniture pieces.
Chairs.
Cabinets.
Mirrors.
Tables.
Beautiful old pieces that looked like they belonged in another era.
I walked slowly through the room.
Then I heard a voice.
“Can I help you?”
I turned around.
A woman stood behind me.
She looked around sixty years old.
Her gray hair was tied into a loose bun.
She wore a work apron and held a cloth in her hand.
“You’re Marguerite?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
My heart started pounding.
“I’m Daniel’s wife.”
The expression on her face changed instantly.
The friendly smile disappeared.
She stared at me.
Then she looked toward the door.
Almost as if she had been expecting me.
* * *
“Then you finally came.”
I froze.
“What do you mean?”
Marguerite didn’t answer.
She walked toward the back of the workshop.
I followed her.
She stopped in front of a large piece of furniture covered with a white sheet.
My heartbeat became louder.
She placed her hand on the edge of the cloth.
Then she looked directly at me.
“I think you’ve been searching for this for a very long time.”
Slowly…
she pulled the sheet away.
* * *
I forgot how to breathe.
Because underneath that cloth…
was something impossible.
I knew that wood.
I knew every scratch.
Every dark line in the grain.
Every small mark along the edge.
My mother’s hands had touched that table thousands of times.
My voice came out as a whisper.
“No…”
Marguerite looked at me.
“Yes.”
* * *
In front of me was my mother’s cherry wood dining table.
The same table that disappeared in 1979.
The same table that had been auctioned away when my family lost everything.
The same table my mother talked about until the day she died.
I reached out with trembling fingers.
I touched the wood.
And suddenly, I wasn’t standing in a furniture shop.
I was a little girl again.
Sitting at that table.
Listening to my mother laugh.
* * *
“Where did you get this?” I whispered.
Marguerite answered softly:
“Your husband bought it.”
I looked at her.
“Daniel?”
She nodded.
“And not only this table.”
My heart stopped.
“What do you mean?”
Before she could answer…
I heard a door open behind me.
* * *
I turned around.
Daniel stood there.
His sleeves were rolled up.
His hands were covered in sawdust.
And on his face was an expression I had never seen before.
Fear.
He looked at me.
Then looked at the table.
And whispered:
“You weren’t supposed to see this yet.”
* * *
My voice broke.
“What have you been doing all this time?”
Daniel took a step forward.
“I can explain.”
“With her?”
“No.”
“Then with the three hundred dollars every month?”
He slowly nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at the table.
Then back at me.
“Because I wanted to give back something your family lost almost fifty years ago.”
* * *
I shook my head.
“Then why did you lie to me?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Because I wanted it to be a surprise.”
Tears filled my eyes.
But before I could answer, Marguerite placed her hand on Daniel’s shoulder.
“Daniel.”
He looked at her.
“You need to tell her everything.”
His face became pale.
“Not yet.”
Marguerite shook her head.
“It’s time.”
* * *
I looked between them.
“What does he need to tell me?”
Neither of them answered immediately.
Then Daniel closed his eyes.
And said softly:
“There’s something else.”
My heart began racing.
“What?”
He looked toward a door at the back of the workshop.
“The table wasn’t the first thing I found.”
He walked toward the door.
“And the last thing I stored here…”
He stopped.
“…is something I never believed still existed.”
* * *
I felt a strange fear rising inside me.
“What is it?”
Daniel looked at Marguerite.
She nodded.
He opened the door.
Behind it was an old wooden chest.
Covered in dust.
On the top of the chest was one name.
A name I recognized immediately.
My mother’s name.
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED — PART 3
