I waited forty-four years to marry the girl I’d loved since high school, believing our wedding night would be the start of forever.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a folded envelope. Inside was a recent photograph of a man in his early forties standing beside a woman and two teenage girls. Tall. Broad shoulders. My eyes. My jaw.

My knees nearly gave out.

Caroline’s voice broke. “His name is Michael. And he doesn’t know yet that you’re his father.”