Breaking Her at Thanksgiving

One year ago, Lewis had cradled Solene in his arms, whispering how much he loved her, holding her hand all the way to the hospital—blood dripping down his shirt from a head injury.

A year later, he rushed out of their doctor’s appointment just to smile for a picture with a fan.

Solene had tried to laugh it off when the doctor shot her a strange look. But it was getting harder to keep up the act.

Her husband, Lewis Crawford, was a busy man—had always been a busy man. But the past five months had been different. No explanations. No calls to say where he’d rushed off to. Just silence—and a groan when he came back late at night.

“Lewis, when are you coming back?” She’d asked him on the phone a week ago, after he left her for more than two days.

There was a rustle, then a pause on his end. “I’m not sure when,” he replied dryly. “But I’ll be home for Thanksgiving.”

Thanksgiving.

But Thanksgiving came after their anniversary.

He had forgotten it, and Solene didn’t remind him.

“Stan, will you—”

The line went dead.

Stanley.

Lewis’s middle name. A name he’d once told her only two people ever used. One had died, and the other had disappeared from his life.

Solene’s hand trembled as she lowered the phone from her ear, staring at the blank screen.

‘Maybe the dead one had resurrected,’ her mind whispered.

But she knew the truth. And she didn’t call him back.

Instead, she tucked the test results from the hospital into her bag, her heart cautiously hopeful as she drove home on Thanksgiving morning.

“Really? Then what's her use if she can't give birth?" Solene had heard his mom say when Lewis explained the outcome of their accident.

The words had cut so deeply, she'd neared depression, if not for Lewis.

But now the doctor had sent a text informing her about the recent test result where he found out her uterus, which had been injured due to the force of the crash, had healed and could carry a child.

She switched on some music and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she drove back to the house. She was about to have the best Thanksgiving yet.

As soon as she got into the house, she made for the kitchen, checking the dishes and making sure everything was perfect.

“Take away the carrots. You know my husband doesn't like them." She told the maid.

But the woman hesitated, her hand tightening around the tray. “But ma'am, Mr Crawford instructed us to have the carrots, along with other fruits at the table.”

Solene frowned slightly, confused. What's with the change?

“He did?"

"Yes, ma'am. Before his trip."

Cold slipped through her chest, but only briefly. Then she nodded. “Alright. Leave them."

She continued round the dining table, inspecting the centerpieces and silverware arranged according to how many people who usually came for the Thanksgiving dinner.

“How's the broth coming?" She asked, stepping into the kitchen.

The head chef smiled, still stirring the pot. "Wonderful, ma'am. You'll all like it.”

Excitement flickered on Solène's face.

Three years of marriage, and Thanksgiving with Lewis's family had become tradition—sacred even. And tonight, her announcement was going to change a lot.

Her phone buzzed as she walked away from the chef.

It was Linda—her late brother's girlfriend whom Lewis's family had come to love, saying she was different. In what way? Solene never asked.

But Linda was her friend. One of the people who had stuck with her the longest.

“I'm almost there. Is Lewis home yet?” The text read.

Solene peeped at the driveway through the window and typed back, "Not yet.”

"Might as well slow down then.” Linda replied almost immediately.

Solene just shook her head, a smile spreading across her face just as the doorbell rang.

She smoothened her dress and strolled towards the door, putting on her most welcoming smile.

“Welcome, Mrs Crawford." She greeted Clarissa Crawford, Lewis's Mom.

Instead, the woman looked her over—from her long purple gown to her straight black hair—like she was mad Solene was also called Mrs Crawford.

Then she just walked past her towards the dining room. “Where's my son?”

“He should be here any moment," Solene answered, still smiling and nodding to the other guests who stared at her as they walked in.

Then she shut the door as soon as they were done and walked towards the table. “I heard about Lewis's dad. I hope he's getting better."

“Yeah, yeah." Clarissa waved her hand dismissively, her keen eyes inspecting the covered dishes. “He wanted to come, but the doctor said otherwise.” She lifted her eyes to Solene. “Where did you say my son has been for so long?"

“Work," she said simply.

“I heard he got an escort." Someone whispered at the table.

Solene swallowed her tongue, fighting the voice in her head.

Then, headlights. And doors slamming.

Solene's smile returned, and she hurried towards the door. “He's here." She announced, yanking the door open without waiting for a knock.

Her smile dropped.

Out in the yard, two figures approached the house. One was Lewis. The other was a woman—much prettier than Solene had imagined. Blonde hair, beautiful smile, and an aura that screamed she was too good for this world.

She was Nyla Hermes, Lewis's high school crush who had left the country to study her father's line of work.

Solene knew Nyla was back. The picture of her and Lewis at a recent showcase had been all over the news.

What she wasn't sure of was whether she was the only one Lewis had been sneaking off to meet.

‘So the dead one didn't resurrect after all.’

Lewis's attention was fully on Nyla, smiling at her like she was the only thing that mattered. He muttered something inaudible to her, and she smiled back, gripping his hand tighter.

Solene's body screamed, “What is she doing here?" She whispered, her breath shaky.

Lewis lifted his head then, his eyes landing on Solene.

They turned cold.

Still, Solene stared at him, searching for something familiar—nothing. He didn't even look like the same man she'd spent the last three years loving.

He and Nyla got to the door, and just walked past her without acknowledging her presence.

Goosebumps traced their way to her brain.

The guests at the table gasped in surprise and confusion as they walked in.

Clarissa rose to her feet, frowning. “Lewis? What is this? Who is—” she paused. "Nyla?"

Of course his mother knew her.

Solene couldn't speak or breathe properly. She just watched as Lewis lowered Nyla into a seat like she was the most fragile thing on earth.

“Good evening, Mrs Crawford.” Nyla greeted sweetly, her hand resting lightly on her stomach.

Clarissa's brows smoothened, delight filling her face. "Oh, my. When did you get back?”

"Not so long ago.” She replied, caressing Lewis's hand on her shoulder. "Stanley has been taking care of me."

“That's right.” Lewis kissed her hair.

Solene felt all the fluid in her body rise to her throat. But she held it. She waited.

A guest cleared their throat. “Lewis, you should introduce your guest.”

He smiled, then turned to meet Solene's gaze, his expression shifting once more.

“Come here, Solene." He said softly.

Solene let her legs betray her. They moved to where he stood, and for some reason, she waited for his arm around her—like he always did when he came back from his trip.

But it never came. She just stood there like a stranger amongst family.

"For those who don't know, this is Nyla Hermes.” Lewis said proudly. “But most importantly, she is the mother of my unborn child."