“I came home early from work one afternoon,” he says coldly, shaking his head. “I didn’t usually come home early, but it was the day before our anniversary. Thought I’d surprise her by taking her out.” He goes still. “I was... definitely surprised.”
He doesn’t look at me. “They were there in our house, together. In our bedroom.In our bed.” That last sentence has a twinge of hurt and anger in it.
I immediately recognize that tone. It’s unfortunately familiar.
My stomach twists, and in the back of my mind I see the silver sequins of Misty’s skirt and John’s hand on her thigh in the shadowy corner of that country club lobby.
“She immediately launched into some kind of, I don’t know, speech? That she worked out in her head. She was feeling this way for a while, it just kind of happened—”
He stops mid-sentence, making a fist and clenching his jaw.
“They were planning to tell me, they just hadn’t found the right time... or whatever.”
He scoffs softly but otherwise keeps his tone mostly emotionally detached, almost like he’s spitting out facts without letting a single one penetrate through the wall he’s built around himself.
“I fired Brent. I packed a bag. I moved out. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, or how I was going to do it.” He looks at me, half smiling. “I know you know how that feels. Directionless. Rudderless.”
I nod, hoping he can feel my empathy.
“A few days later, my accountant called me. She’d noticed some strange activity in one of the business accounts,” he says. “The account she was concerned about was one I used specifically for pro bono projects for underserved communities”—he looks around—“like this one.”
A little girl runs past us, kicking a soccer ball, her laughter filling the air. And I understand what he isn’t saying—this park started as a dream in his head.
Just like my bakery.
“It turned out Elizabeth had been funneling money out of that account into a new account so she and Brent could start a business of their own.”
“Oh my gosh.” I instinctively reach for his hand and squeeze it firmly.
While I understand the pain of an affair, this betrayal crossed a different line. I can imagine how much it hurt.
“We had joint accounts, and she had access to everything, so technically, she didn’t do anything illegal. Morally? Ethically? She broke every single rule.”
“Miles, I’m so sorry,” I say.
He avoids my eyes. “For a long time, I thought it was my fault. I should’ve known what was happening right under my nose. I should’ve paid closer attention.”
“I know how that feels,” I say quietly, not wanting to make this moment about my pain, but wanting him to know he’s not alone.
“It broke me. And my business. I was so embarrassed, I almost quit.” Now he glances in my direction. I meet his eyes for a flicker of a second, then look away.
Because I understand what he’s doing.
I understand why he brought me here.
“And I could’ve. Easily. But then one morning I went for a walk. And after two hours of aimless wandering, I ended up here. Only this entire block was just an open lot at the back of two stores. There are apartments around, so I knew there were families in the area, and I thought...These kids deserve a safe place to play.” He does a quick scan of our surroundings. “And then I thought...I’m going to make them one.”
At one end of the park, there are three tiny wooden huts surrounded by bushes, and all I can think when I see them is that any kid would love to get lost in this park for a little while.
He created something special where there was nothing.
“This was the project that brought me back to life,” he says.
He turns his body toward me.
“Like your bakery.”
I think about the new friends who’ve shown up to help me, and their genuine excitement for my project. I think about the life I’m building, a life I desperately want to work.
