I separated from my first wife and told myself the marriage was finished, even though the paperwork never was. Then I met someone new. I started again. I married her without ever admitting the truth about the first marriage. For a while I lived cleanly in the second life. Then the first one crept back in ' a message, a meeting, forgiveness I didn't deserve. I didn't choose between them. I chose both. Two homes. Two sets of children who each believed they were my only family. Different birthdays, different routines, different versions of me. I became an expert at calendars and lies. Every day I expect it all to collide. Every day it somehow doesn't ' yet.