On her birthday, I asked my wife what she wanted to wish for. She replied, “I just want you to forgive me for one thing.” Curious, I asked what she meant. She gave me a small smile and said, “I slept with Ryan… and the test showed two lines.”
On her birthday, I asked my wife what she wanted to wish for. She replied, “I just want you to forgive me for one thing.” Curious, I asked what she meant. She gave me a small smile and said, “I slept with Ryan… and the test showed two lines.” My fork slipped from my hand. But before I could say a word, she added something that made me realize the pregnancy wasn’t even the hardest thing she expected me to accept. For several seconds, neither of us moved. The refrigerator hummed in the kitchen behind me, and somewhere outside, a car rolled slowly through our quiet Columbus, Ohio neighborhood. Through the dining-room window, I could see the American flag hanging from our neighbor’s porch, barely moving beneath the yellow glow of his light. Three candles were still burning on Claire’s birthday cake. I had bought thirty-six candles. She had laughed when she saw the package and told me three would be enough. “Thirty-six will set off the smoke detector,” she had joked. That had been les...