Marrying a playboy took some serious grit.
As the tissues in my hand got thinner, those words popped into my head.
The girl across from me, Rebecca Frye, was a senior in college. She’d been crying for two hours straight since walking in.
Her whirlwind romance with Chad lasted barely a month. It was hardly worth smearing her makeup over.
I tried to comfort her, but she suddenly looked at me with teary eyes.
“He once said I reminded him of you. Now I see it,” she started.
I froze because none of Chad’s exes had ever said that to me.
Rebecca sniffled, wiping her eyes. Then, with a mocking edge, she said, “I don’t need your pity. You’re way more pathetic than me.”
She was spot on.
Everyone in Aurespring knew Chad married a saintly wife. She was such a saint that she forgot his repetitive betrayals and even helped clean up his messes.
I called every girl he dated during our marriage an ex. I had thrown my dignity out the window.
My phone buzzed with a text from Chad.
[Still not done? The movie is about to start.]
I set it face-down, meeting Rebecca’s teary eyes.
“Whatever you want as compensation, just name it. I’ll make it happen,” I blurted.
I’d said that line so many times, I sounded like an HR representative handling layoffs.
She scoffed and shot to her feet. “I don’t want anything.”
I sighed, “You should.”
Money, a car, or a house were the best choices. She should hold onto something solid.
But her glare turned icy. She grabbed her cold coffee and dumped it over my head.
She croaked, “I’m pregnant, and I’m keeping it.”
I stared at her, speechless. Then a bitter smile crossed my face.
Sure enough, Chad didn’t keep a single promise he made to me.
…
I climbed into the passenger seat, soaked to the bone. Chad was on the phone, making no moves to hide that he had gotten a new girl.
My hand tightened on the seatbelt, my nails digging in until my fingertips ached.
Whatever was said on the other end made him laugh, his crow’s feet crinkling.
“Alright, alright, I’ll come over tonight,” he said, hanging up.
He started the car and glanced at me. His grip on the wheel tightened, his face darkening.
“She did that?” he asked.
Silent, I pulled out tissues and started to wipe my hair.
He leaned over and took the tissue from me. “Stay still.”
I instinctively leaned away, but he pulled me into his arms, carefully wiping my hair.
A deep frown adorned his face. “You just sat there and let her douse you? Where is that fire you used to throw at me?”
His words made me pause. The weightless feeling that hit me when I saw Rebecca spread through my chest.
I broke free from his arms and spoke flatly. “I can’t lose it on a pregnant woman, can I? What do you think?”
His face tightened, but he kept wiping my hair.
We didn’t talk after that. He drove silently, while I stared out the window.
My peripheral vision caught him stealing glances at me. Ripples stirred in my heart, spreading outward.
I had long passed disappointment. Now my heart was numb and empty.
The movie was a blur. Chad spent most of it texting.
The special moment of our anniversary crumbled to ruins as the curtains closed. The even more pathetic part? I had to sit next to him and watch his show.
Those on the guest list were our family and friends. His family had sent invitations as early as two weeks ago.
At dinner, the glasses clinked.
Chad entertained the guests while peeling shrimp for me.
