Timothy still had more he wanted to say. He wanted to lay out his grievances, to explain everything he had done to marry a girl like Florence, who had come from such a small, ordinary family, and to show her how hard he had driven himself at work so that she and Nancy could live in comfort.
What she gave him in return was a single, simple sentence, and it left every excuse he had in pieces.
Silence took over the space between them once again. Just as it had countless times before, Timothy asked her coldly, "When did you find out?"
Florence thought back to the day she had found Amelia's photo tucked inside Timothy's desk.
She said, "Six months ago."
Timothy's hands curled into fists without a sound. He suddenly found it hard to breathe and said, "Why didn't you ask me about it?"
Flore
