At Preschool, I Found My Husband's Three Kids—By Three Different WomenChapter 2

At my hotel in coastal New England, an electronic invitation arrived.

*PRICE FAMILY THANKSGIVING DINNER: WELCOMING OUR THREE GRANDCHILDREN.*

The date was our fifth wedding anniversary. My name appeared on the invitation as if I'd agreed to welcome the children into the family.

The event coordinator called to confirm I'd accompany them during the introduction.

"Remove my name," I said. "I won't be there."

Adrian called right away. "Now that you know, there's no point keeping the children secret. My grandfather will be there. You need to make this easy. I've already booked your return flight."

"I'm not going."

That afternoon a cream-colored designer handbag arrived at my room with a card wishing me a happy anniversary.

For one foolish moment, I thought Adrian had remembered something I liked.

Then I saw Sophie's Instagram Story. Three women stood together holding the same handbag in different colors.

*He bought four. We picked ours first. The boring cream one was left for the wife.*

In the corner of the photo was a travel itinerary: Adrian, three women, three kids. They were coming to New England to visit the aquarium, take family portraits, and enjoy a week of activities.

It was almost exactly the trip I'd planned when I was pregnant. I'd once sent Adrian a document called *Our Baby's First Adventures*.

He'd replied: *We won't need this.*

Now he was taking other people's children on the itinerary he'd rejected for ours.

I forwarded everything to my lawyer, declined the invitation in writing, and refused to collect the handbag.

I was not going to play the gracious wife in a family whose existence had depended on deceiving me.