The courier accepted the package. I met his eyes briefly, “Leave now.”
As the door closed, I answered lightly, “Nothing. Just decluttering.”
Sheldon frowned. “You should leave that to the maid. Don’t tire yourself.”
“I’m not made of glass,” I replied evenly. “This won’t break me.”
He sighed. “Always stubborn. Fine—leave it to me if you don’t trust the maid. Oh, right.”
He nudged Lizzie forward.
My daughter held out a flower bouquet she brought.
“Mommy must’ve felt lonely last night,” Lizzie said softly. “When we got home, I saw this flower and thought of you. Do you like it, Mom?”
Her eyes were full of apologies.
Then Sheldon stepped closer and opened a box.
“I didn’t mean to miss our anniversary,” he said earnestly. “It was an urgent business trip.”
He held up the diamond ring. “This is my apology. If it’s not enough, say the word. I’ll buy you anything.”
The diamond caught the light, painfully bright.
“I rushed back the moment I was done,” he added. “Let’s reschedule the anniversary next week—on your birthday.”
I looked at the flower in Lizzie’s hand. Then at the ring.
My heart was silent.
How strange—how love always arrived late, carrying apologies instead of presence.
Our wedding had been a week before my birthday.
From Sheldon’s secretary, I knew he was preparing a new product named after me as a birthday gift.
I was close to her. She liked telling me everything. Sheldon never knew.
That was how I learned the truth, if his meetings and business trips were all lies.
What hurt me so bad was even Lizzie defended him.
“Dad is super busy,” she once said earnestly. “After picking me up from school, he didn’t even take me home. He had to bring me out of town.”
I studied Sheldon’s face now. Calm and spotless of guilt.
I smiled gently.
As for rescheduling the anniversary—I didn’t care. By next week, we would no longer be a family.
“It’s fine,” I said softly. “Thank you for the gift. Let’s go inside. Lizzie is freezing.”
In the past, I would’ve wrapped Lizzie in warm clothes and hugged Sheldon the moment he came home.
This time, I didn’t.
It was only an excuse—to change the subject, to stop myself from remembering last night’s betrayal.
When we entered the house, both Sheldon and Lizzie froze.
The place was almost empty.
I loved ceramics. Every corner had once held one. Now, the tables were bare.
Most striking of all—the family painting lay turned over on the floor.
Sheldon frowned. “Why are the ceramics gone?”
Lizzie ran over. “And why did you take down my painting, Mom?”
“Oh,” I said casually. “I sold the ceramics to a collector. I wanted to declutter and replace them. The painting was worn out too.”
Relief flashed across Sheldon’s face. He thought I knew nothing.
He pinched Lizzie’s cheek. “Don’t worry. You can paint a new one, baby. Remember—clear away the old to welcome the new.”
Lizzie beamed. “Okay! I’ll make lots of new ones!”
I watched them quietly, mockery settling deep in my eyes.
Welcome the new one, huh?
Did it mean they would clear away the old mother and welcome a new woman?
What a tragic story.
As we walked inside, the smell of food still lingered in the house. Sheldon followed it until he found that the prepared meal lay discarded in the trash bin.
“Did you cook dinner last night?” he asked in curiosity.
“Oh,” I replied lightly. “It’s been a while since I cooked. It tasted awful, so I threw it away.”
He frowned. “You’re tiring yourself again. You could’ve asked the chef to cook for us. Don’t do this anymore, alright?”
He reached out and patted my head, the gesture gentle and distant.
Lizzie ran over and hugged my waist. “Yes, Mom. Your health matters most. I want Mommy to see me get married someday.”
My heart tightened, but my smile didn’t falter.
“Alright,” I said softly. “Go take a bath. You both stink so much I might throw up.”
I brushed them off and walked into the bedroom.
The moment the door closed, my phone vibrated.
A message from Stacey.
I opened it.
A photo of the four of them together smiling beneath the same flower bouquet Lizzie had just given me.
Another photo, taken at my favorite restaurant.
And the last one was an opened diamond set, the one I was clearly familiar with.
Then came another message from Stacey, [There are two rings in the set, so I gave one to you. I assume Sheldon made it as your anniversary gift, right?]
The words pierced my chest.
So everything Sheldon and Lizzie gave me was never meant to be mine alone. It was Stacey’s excess.
I stared at the screen, fingers trembling. Had I really been foolish enough to believe I was treasured?
I thought his love was genuine, I never knew that Sheldon already had a first love back in high school. A girl he could never forget.
A girl who left after graduation and came back years later to destroy everything I believed in.
From the very beginning, my place had never been the first.
I lowered my phone and laughed soundlessly while packing my things.
In the evening, the door opened, Sheldon and Lizzie insisted on sleeping beside me.
“The anniversary isn’t about the date,” Sheldon said gently. “It’s about celebrating. Don’t overthink it, okay?”
Lizzie hugged my arm tightly. “We celebrate every year anyway. Mommy, don’t be sad about last night. Today, Lizzie will sleep with Mommy and Daddy.”
I didn’t answer. I was afraid that if I spoke, I would cry.
Soon, Lizzie’s breathing softened in my arms. But I remained awake.
Then Sheldon’s phone vibrated. A message from Stacey. [Come, Diego has been sleeping.]
Later, a photo filled the screen, it was Stacey in red lingerie. [I prepared this just for you.]
My fingers clenched beneath the blanket.
As Sheldon glanced to the side, I pretended to be asleep, closing my eyes.
Perhaps because there was no reply, a video call came through.
Stacey’s face appeared, lips curved in a teasing smile. Slowly, deliberately, she began untying the lingerie.
As an actress, she was really great at making expressions, even her gestures were so intoxicating.
Sheldon swallowed hard.
He rose from the bed, movements careful, silent—as if no one would notice.
But as he reached for the door, I asked quietly, “Where are you going?”
