NovelPlus
Storytelling

I Humiliated My Ex at My Wedding—Then My Husband Introduced Him as His Boss

Chapter 4

Theme:
Font Size:
24px
That night I finally wrote a letter without mentioning his wealth or position. I described exactly what I had done and why it was wrong. I did not ask him to forgive me. For the first time in years, I was unsure whether I deserved an answer.The cottage stood beside a narrow lake two hours from the city. Its paint was weathered and its garden overgrown, but the porch swing still creaked in the wind. I had spent summers there with my mother, eating peaches over the sink and counting stars through the window.Daniel drove me there on Saturday. He had read my mother’s letter after I asked him to, and he agreed that I should see the property before deciding anything. We walked up the path in silence.The brass key opened the front door. Inside, everything smelled of cedar and dust. Someone had covered the furniture with clean sheets. The roof had been repaired. The windows were intact. On the kitchen counter sat a folder of maintenance receipts, all paid by a holding company Marcus controlled.“Why would he keep doing this after the divorce?” I whispered.Daniel examined a receipt. “Maybe because he gave his word.”I went to the bedroom where my mother used to sew. In a drawer I found photographs: me at eight, missing my front teeth; my mother laughing in a yellow dress; Marcus painting the porch railing while she handed him lemonade. I remembered that afternoon. I had been annoyed he was late to a dinner reservation. I had not noticed he spent the day fixing the house.Daniel stood in the doorway. “There’s something I need to ask.”I put down the photograph.“When we met, you told me your first marriage ended because Marcus was irresponsible with money. Was that true?”“At the time I believed it.”“Did you ask him what was happening?”“Not in a way that let him answer.”Daniel leaned against the doorframe. “I’m not asking you to be perfect. But I need to know whether you can admit when you’re wrong before someone important walks into the room.”His words hurt because they were precise. I had been kind to Daniel’s senior colleagues and impatient with restaurant staff. I called it having standards. He had called it stress. Now neither explanation worked.“I don’t know how to change overnight,” I said.“I’m not asking for overnight.”We spent the afternoon opening windows and sorting old books. I found my mother’s recipe cards tucked inside a dictionary. Daniel found a photograph of me and Marcus on our wedding day. He handed it to me without jealousy.“I loved him once,” I said.“I know.”“I didn’t love him well.”Daniel sat beside me on the floor. “Then learn what that means now. With me, with everyone.”Before leaving, I wrote down the names of three local contractors who had maintained the house. I wanted to thank them myself. It was a small thing, almost embarrassingly small compared with the years of work I had ignored.At sunset, the lake reflected a strip of copper light. I locked the cottage and slipped the key into my pocket. For once, I did not feel that I had gained a valuable asset. I felt that I had been entrusted with a memory, and that keeping it required something more difficult than money.
PREV NEXT

News in the same category

I Humiliated My Ex at My Wedding—Then My Husband Introduced Him as His Boss

7 Part