Exposing Husband's Sterility

I knew something was wrong the moment Finn walked through our front door. His smile was too wide, his laughter too loud as he ushered in a young woman I'd never seen before. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five, with glossy dark hair that cascaded past her shoulders and a figure that her tight dress did nothing to conceal.

"Alice, darling," Finn announced with theatrical enthusiasm, "this is Delilah Spencer, my goddaughter. She's just started as an intern at the company and needs a place to stay for a while. I told her we'd be happy to help."

I froze, wooden spoon suspended over the pasta sauce I'd been stirring. Goddaughter? In five years of marriage, Finn had never once mentioned being anyone's godfather.

"It's so nice to meet you," Delilah purred, her eyes scanning our open-concept living area with the calculating gaze of someone mentally rearranging furniture. "Finn has told me so much about you."

I forced my lips into what I hoped resembled a smile. "Funny, he's never mentioned you."

Finn's hand settled on the small of Delilah's back—a touch too low, lingering a touch too long. "It never came up, sweetheart. You know how busy we've been."

Dinner was excruciating. I watched as Delilah leaned toward Finn, laughing at his jokes with practiced admiration, touching his arm with casual intimacy. When she wasn't fawning over him, she was critiquing my cooking with backhanded compliments.

"This pasta is actually pretty good," she said, twirling her fork with delicate precision. "I usually avoid carbs, but I guess everyone needs comfort food sometimes."

I gripped my wine glass tighter. "How exactly did you become Finn's goddaughter, Delilah? I'd love to hear the story."

A flicker of something—panic?—crossed her features before she recovered. "Oh, my parents and Finn's were close friends. Before they passed away, they asked him to look out for me."

"Both your parents are deceased?" I asked, watching her carefully.

"Tragic car accident," she replied, eyes downcast. "I was sixteen."

Finn jumped in quickly. "It's not something she likes to discuss, Alice."

I nodded sympathetically while mentally noting how Finn's hand had found its way to her shoulder, squeezing it in what appeared to be comfort but looked more like possession.

After dinner, Delilah made herself at home with alarming speed. Within an hour, she had moved a vase from the coffee table to the sideboard, adjusted the thermostat, and asked if she could "freshen up" our guest room with some of her own touches.

"Just to make it feel cozier," she explained with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

When we finally retreated to our bedroom, I couldn't hold back any longer.

"A goddaughter?" I hissed, closing the door firmly behind us. "In five years of marriage, you never once thought to mention this important relationship?"

Finn loosened his tie, avoiding my gaze. "It wasn't relevant until now."

"Not relevant?" I repeated incredulously. "And the way she looks at you? The way she touches you?