“He stuck his nose into our parenting.”

“How?”

“Do you always have to do that?” Ryan snapped. “Is it really asking so much to expect you to trust me, your husband?”

I stared at him for a long moment.

Then I pulled out my phone and called someone.

“I need you to come over, please. Now,” I said.

I hung up.

“Who was that?” Ryan asked, his voice laced with urgency.

“Someone who I hope will give me the answers you won’t.”

—

Ten minutes later, Travis stood inside our doorway while Ryan glared

at him.

I folded my arms.

“Tell me what Emma told you.”

He looked uncomfortable. “She started asking why Ryan didn’t like me.”

Ryan scoffed.

Travis ignored him. “At first I told her adults don’t always get along. Then she said Ryan kept asking her questions about me.”

I looked at my husband. “What questions?”