The ninety-ninth time Earl Sanchez's ex-girlfriend showed up to steal the dog, I had a ten-course dinner and a pot of soup waiting for her.
"Eat while it's hot. The dog's been fed. Condoms are in the nightstand."
The grin on Earl's face collapsed in an instant. "What are you making a scene about now?"
Norma Donaldson, busy smothering the Samoyed in kisses, let out a delicate scoff.
"Patsy, not everyone is trying to compete with you."
"I have zero interest in fighting over a man. You can have the husband, but I won't give up the dog."
"I lost the custody battle for Snowball back then, and I just miss him."
I didn't dare talk back. I just nodded, meek and obedient.
After ninety-eight rounds with Norma, I'd learned my place.
I watched the two of them exchange lingering glances and kept my composure. No tears, no tantrums. The perfect, understanding wife.
I turned to Earl, my voice tight with desperation.
"Honey, I'll step aside so the three of you can be a family again."
"Can you... do the same for me?"
……
Silence.
Earl's hand stilled on the dog's fur. Something unreadable crossed his face.
"Norma just can't bear to part with the dog. Stop blowing things out of proportion."
I shook my head with a bitter smile.
I didn't have the strength to fight anymore.
And I was done being the spare wheel in their little stolen-dog love story.
The Samoyed I'd fed for five years was barking at me, hackles raised, warning me not to hurt its "mommy."
Norma pulled the dog into her arms, soothing it with one hand while shooting me an amused look.
"Poor Snowball, living with this abusive mother-daughter duo for five years. He's suffered so much."
She turned to Earl with a coy pout. "I'm not backing down this time! I'm taking Snowball home."
Earl's expression softened immediately. "Oh? And why should I let you keep a father from seeing his son?"
"The little brat who abused Snowball has already been dealt with. Stop giving me attitude."
My head snapped up. I pointed at the dog prancing happily between them, my voice raw and strained.
"You two are... parents too. Can you give me my daughter back?"
"Bess has a heart condition. She can't take this kind of stress."
Earl blinked, then his voice turned cold and cutting. "Patsy Henson, stop making a scene."
"It's because of you and that miserable attitude of yours that our daughter turned out so vicious and heartless. She abused a dog."
"Norma and I have never crossed a line! Keep up this jealous act, and you'll never see your daughter again."
Every time the word "abuse" left his mouth, it carved through me like a blade.
Did he not know that Bess would stop for every stray she saw on the street? That she'd stand in the pouring rain to build shelters for them? How could she ever hurt an animal?
Norma looked down at me and casually scraped every dish of meat from the table into the dog's bowl.
"Heart condition? Well, my fur baby gets anxiety too."
"That child is cruel by nature. Earl sent her away for correction before she went down a path of no return."
Her gaze swept over me, head to toe, and she smiled with undisguised contempt.
"Patsy, you really don't carry yourself like the lady of the Sanchez household."
"Then again, one person plants the tree and another enjoys the shade. Earl's done a fine job keeping you."
The implication dripped from every word. I could only laugh at the absurdity.
Lady of the house? Me?
I remembered the first time Norma came to steal the dog. I'd called the police.
When she was accused of trespassing, Earl didn't hesitate. He stepped in front of her without a second thought.
"Her fingerprint is registered on the lock. The passcode is her birthday. How is that breaking and entering?"
The lady of this house had never been me.
Even this apartment, every inch of it, had been designed by the two of them during their relationship. A Disney-themed wonderland built on their love.
Five years of marriage, and the only outsider had always been me.
That truth had taken me from hysterics to hollow acceptance a long time ago.
All I wanted now was my daughter back.
And then I'd end this joke of a marriage where I'd only ever been running someone else's race.
