Ensconced in a cocoon of blankets after a late afternoon swim, Vanessa grabbed Brad’s phone to check the time. It was easier than going to search for her own, which they’d discarded somewhere between the door and the bathroom of their honeymoon suite. Vanessa had waited patiently over the past few years as Brad hesitated, still grieving the wife he’d lost eight years ago in a car accident. He was the driver and lone survivor.

She ignored the notifications while trying to calculate how much longer Brad would be when the damn phone unlocked, exposing a cherub-faced little boy with hair the color of marmalade, a mirror image of Brad. Chocolate frosting and sprinkles were smeared across his cheeks, a number two on the little boy’s shirt. Had Brad hesitated because of another relationship that produced a son? Surely not. Yet, it was hard to deny with this boy grinning at her.

Vanessa rubbed at a sharp ache deep in her chest as tears blurred her vision. Her contentment exploded as anger unraveled her trust, and it was Brad’s misfortune to walk in at that moment. She unfurled herself from the blankets and hurled his phone at him. It smashed into the wall. He ducked, spilling hot coffee on himself, and swore, thrusting his hand in the ice bucket as the paper cups dropped to the floor.

“What the hell?”

“Your son.” 

His face paled, shoulders sagging as he glanced at the shattered screen. “He died in the accident, too.” 

_{word: marmalade action: unravel}