Keeping Promises to His Ex, Not Me

My husband, Don Petty, stood in front of the mirror adjusting his tie. The moment he saw me getting out of bed, he immediately spoke up.

"I'm sorry, I can't go visit your mom's grave with you today. It's Taylor's birthday, and I already promised her—"

"Okay," I answered before he could finish.

His hands froze in midair. He finally turned to look at me directly.

"Why are you agreeing so easily this time? You're not going to fight me over this?"

"There's nothing to fight about," I replied softly before walking into the closet and changing into a black outfit.

He seemed to sense that something was off with me today. He knocked and stepped inside, his tone carrying a hint of coaxing.

"If things wrap up early on Taylor's end, I'll meet you at the cemetery. You just had a miscarriage, and your body is still weak. Don't push yourself too hard."

If this had been just a few days ago, hearing him soften his attitude like this would've given me hope all over again. I would've believed he still loved me. I would've believed he still cared.

But now, I only found it hypocritical.

We had been married for five years, and every year, on Mom's death anniversary, Taylor Stapley would call him away.

Every single time, he'd say the same thing—"I'll definitely come with you next time."

But there would be no next time.

I didn't say anything.

Just then, the doorbell rang. The florist had arrived.

It was a gorgeous bouquet of hydrangeas—Mom's favorite flowers.

Without even knocking, Taylor strode right in and scooped up the bouquet, her face lit up with delight.

"Oh wow! How did you know hydrangeas are my favorite, Don? I haven't even had the chance to use the 'Flowers' coupon yet, and you already got them for me? Look at you being so attentive!"

Don came out at the sound of her voice. He froze for a second before giving a helpless smile.

"Oh well. If you like them, go ahead and take them."

He gave my arm a gentle tug and lowered his voice. "It's Taylor's birthday today. Don't ruin her mood. I'll buy you another bouquet later."

A look of worry washed over his face as he instinctively stepped in front of Taylor, seemingly afraid that I'd lose my temper again.

I clenched my fists, then slowly relaxed them.

For the first four years of our marriage, Taylor had taken every bouquet I'd bought for Mom. As long as it was mine, it would somehow become her "favorite". And every single time, Don urged me to be the bigger person, to let it go, and promised that he'd make it up to me later.

Before, I would've thrown the flowers on the floor and caused a huge scene. But this time, I just gave a soft nod.

"Okay."

Then I turned to the florist and instructed, "Please wrap another bouquet of hydrangeas for me and deliver it directly to the cemetery."

It was Mom's death anniversary. I didn't want to make a scene, nor did I want to get tangled up with them anymore.

I thought I was handling this with complete grace, but Don grabbed my arm, his expression unreadable.

"What's wrong with you?"

I curled my lips into a faint smile. "Nothing. You should get going. Go spend Taylor's birthday with her. Don't be late."

With that, I pried his fingers off my arm one by one and walked out the door.

The moment the door shut behind me, I heard Taylor laughing inside.

"Don, I'm cashing in another 'Sexy Times' coupon today! You promised that you'd give it to me whenever I wanted it."

My steps faltered, but I didn't turn around.

The rest of the conversation was muffled by the walls, but I had no interest in hearing Don's answer anyway.

He most likely agreed to it. After all, he never said no to her.

…

After visiting Mom at the cemetery, I went straight to the office.

Near the end of the workday, Don sent me a text message.

"I'll head home right after Taylor's birthday celebration is over. Then I'll go visit your mom's grave with you. Take tomorrow off. It's our fifth wedding anniversary. I'll take you out to have some fun."

I gripped my phone tightly for a long time before finally replying with a single word.

"Okay."

So he still remembered that the day after Mom's death anniversary was our wedding anniversary.

Back then, he'd kneeled in front of Mom as she lay on her deathbed.

"Don't worry, Mrs. McGowan. I'll marry Dee tomorrow," he'd sworn, his eyes bloodshot. "I'll take care of her for the rest of her life! I'll take care of her in your stead!"

Right after Mom was cremated, he ignored his family's protests and dragged me to get married.

He'd been brimming with confidence that day. Right then and there, he tore the marriage certificate to pieces.

"No marriage certificate means no divorce, ever. I'll treat you well for the rest of our lives."

But everything changed the day his ex-girlfriend, Taylor Stapley, returned to the country. We hadn't even celebrated a single wedding anniversary since.

I supposed this would be a chance for our story to come full circle.

However, despite waiting from evening until the wee hours of the next day, I never saw Don come home. Instead, I saw a post Taylor had uploaded to her social media in the early hours of the morning.

It was a photo of a man's bare back as he slept face down in bed.

The caption read, "Coupon redeemed!"