Maybe it was their way of teasing him because he had become sentimental after marriage.
I never really cared.
Daniel didn’t seem bothered.
If he brought me flowers and Mark said, “Anything for the second wife,” Daniel would roll his eyes.
If he surprised me with dinner reservations, Steven would say:
“First wife never got this kind of treatment.”
Everyone laughed.
I laughed.
Daniel laughed.
Then someone changed the subject.
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There was never any first wife.
Daniel and I met when we were thirty-one.
We married two years later.
We had two children.
I’d seen his old tax returns.
His college photographs.
His first apartment.
I’d met friends who had known him since childhood.
There had never been a divorce.
No annulment.
No mysterious ex-wife.
Nothing.
Daniel was private about the years before we met, but I never considered him secretive.
