CHAPTER FOUR – HAPPY ANNIVERSARY ANGELA

Five years later.

The night air carried a bite, but Angela remained on the balcony, seated at the table she had dressed with flickering candles, crystal glasses, and a dinner now gone cold. She had imagined laughter filling the space, imagined his hand brushing hers across the table. Instead, the only company she had was silence and the steady ticking of the clock.

The door finally opened. Footsteps echoed. Daniel’s voice cut through the night. “Why are you still out here?” His tone was casual, as if he had merely stepped out for an errand. “It’s freezing. Why didn’t you go inside?”

Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. She kept her eyes on him, calm though her heart thundered. “I was waiting for you.”

“For me?” He frowned slightly, then forced a smile. “You shouldn’t have. You’ll catch a cold out here.”

“It’s fine.” Her lips trembled, but her chin stayed high. “I wanted us to have dinner together.”

His gaze drifted to the table, taking in the untouched food, the flickering candles. “You set all this up?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “I thought it would be nice. Like before. I mean, just one of those few times we enjoy each other's company and pretend we love each other.”

“You didn’t have to go through all that trouble,” he said, taking a seat. 

“It isn’t trouble. It’s our—” She stopped, watching his expression, waiting for a flicker of recognition. Nothing. “…You said you’d come early. I begged you to come back home today and you promised.”

“I know,” he muttered, loosening his tie. “I got caught up in something.”

“Something?” she raised her brow. 

“Yes. Something important.” His tone dismissed her question. Then, almost as an afterthought, he reached into his coat pocket. “But I didn’t forget you. I brought you something.”

Her chest tightened. “You… brought me something?”

“Yes, dear. I have something for you,” he cut her off, his grin widening as he placed it on the table. 

Her breath hitched. Gifts had grown rare between them, replaced by obligatory trinkets for public appearances. “For me?”

“Yup,” he said eagerly, pushing a small gold-wrapped box with a white ribbon on the table to her. His excitement was almost boyish, different from the man she had married.

Her heart skipped. For the first time in a long time, she smiled genuinely. “Daniel…”

“Go on,” he urged, his eyes fixed on the box.

Her fingers trembled as she pulled at the ribbon, savoring the moment, her chest blooming with fragile hope. She wanted to believe this was it—that he remembered, that he cared.

“Can I guess?” she asked, glancing at him with teasing brightness.

“By all means.”

Her lips quirked. “It looks like a jeweler’s box. Maybe… a ring? Earrings?”

He chuckled, waving her on. “Just open it.”

Her heart fluttered. Slowly, she peeled the paper, lifted the lid—

And froze.

Her smile shattered.

Nestled inside wasn’t jewelry, perfume, or any token of love. It was a small, white stick. Two faint pink lines blazed against its surface.

A pregnancy test. Positive. Her stomach lurched violently.

Her voice cracked when she spoke. “…What is this?”

“Look closely.”

She stared at the object in disbelief. Her breath caught in her throat “…It’s positive.”

Daniel grinned, oblivious—or perhaps uncaring—of the way her fingers trembled. “Yes! She’s pregnant,” he said, voice brimming with pride. “Can you believe it?”

The words rang in her ears. She. Her lips parted, but no sound came. Finally, she whispered, “She?”

“Yes.” He leaned forward, eyes shining. “Can you believe it? I’m going to be a father.”

The world tilted. Her hands shook so violently she nearly dropped the box. “You’re serious?”

“Of course I’m serious. This is the best news I’ve had in years.” Daniel replied reeling with excitement..

Angela’s voice came out low, raw. “And you decided to tell me—like this?”

“Why not? How did you want to hear the news?” He asked cluelessly, then he gestured toward the test as though it were a prize. “It’s a gift. A new beginning.”

Her heart broke with every syllable. “A new beginning?” She let out a bit of a laugh. “Danny, you gifted me proof that you’ve betrayed me and you call that a new beginning?”

He sighed, his smile vanished, replaced by pure irritation in his eyes. “Betrayal? Don’t say it like that.”

“What should I say?” she shot back, her voice rising. “Congratulations on a baby that isn’t mine?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “Exactly that. Say congratulations. You should be happy for me.”

Her hand flew to her chest as she tried to steady herself. “…Happy.”

“Yes.”

Tears blurred her vision, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. “On our fifth anniversary, you walk in late after keeping me waiting in the cold, hand me this, and expect me to toast to your betrayal.”

“Angela—”

“Say it!” Her voice cracked under the weight of her anguish. “Say the words. Do you even know what today is?”

For the briefest moment, recognition flickered in his eyes. Then it vanished, replaced by cool indifference. “It doesn’t matter. This does.”

“It matters to me,” she whispered.

“You always cling to little dates and emotions,” he said, dismissive. “You should look at the bigger picture.”

“The bigger picture where you humiliate your wife? Where another woman gives you the child I couldn’t? This has been five years of hell. Five years of a loveless marriage. Five years of playing the perfect wife, smiling at the camera while you slowly disappear behind the scenes. You're never even at home to make a baby with me. Your wife!”

“Don’t twist it. This isn’t humiliation. This is about family. My legacy. Accept the baby, accept the woman and maybe they’ll finally stop asking.”

Her laugh was jagged, bitter. “So that’s it. I’m just a mask. A pretty face to sit at your table while someone else gives you what you want. You know what? They'll never stop talking. Their voices would only get louder. You're giving my enemies a reason to mock me.”

“Stop, Angela.”

“No.” Her tears slipped free now, hot trails down her cheeks. “I can't stop now. Not tonight. Not when you’ve broken me and called it a gift.”

She flinched as though struck. “So that’s all I am to you? Five years, and because I didn’t give you a child—”

“You should be happy for me,” he interrupted coldly. “If you can’t give me one, then someone else can. That’s the reality, Angela.”

“Happy?” She choked on the word. “You betray me, and you expect happiness?”

“You’re overreacting,” he snapped. “You knew what this marriage was. Appearances matter. Stability matters. This gives us both.”

Her voice shook, but her words cut sharply. “Us? There’s no us here, Danny. There’s only you.”

“Don’t dramatize it,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “This marriage was never about love. You knew that.”

Her voice cracked, raw. “But I hoped. I always hoped.”

“And that’s your mistake.” He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You think too much with your heart. I need you to be practical.”

“Practical?” Her laugh was hollow. “Practical is me cooking your favorite meal and waiting hours alone while you’re with her.”

His jaw tightened. “Enough.”

“Say her name,” Angela demanded, rising to her feet. Her entire body trembled, but her eyes burned with fire. “If it’s such good news, then say her name in front of me.”

His silence was answer enough.

“It’s important to me!” she cried.

“You’re twisting this into melodrama,” he muttered. “Be dignified, Angela.  Raise your glass. Toast to the future.”

She slowly wiped her tears with the back of her hands and took the glass. Her hands shook as she lifted her glass while the liquid inside quivered like her heart. “…Fine. To the baby.”

“To the baby.” His smile returned as he clinked his glass against hers.

She bit down hard, forcing her tears back, her voice flattening into quiet steel. “Then congratulations, Danny. Truly. You’ll be a father. That’s what matters.”

He lifted his glass again, unbothered. “Yes. It is.”

Her gaze fell to the untouched pasta, the wilted salad, the roasted turkey going cold. Everything she had prepared lay wasted. Just like her.

“Thank you.” He drank deeply, as if nothing had shattered between them. “This is going to change everything. Tomorrow night, we’re telling my family. Big dinner. Everyone will be there. My family will finally stop breathing down my neck. You should be relieved.”

“Relieved?” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You’ve taken every ounce of dignity I have left and you expect me to be relieved?”

Her chest hollowed. “I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No.” She shook her head firmly. “I won’t sit there while they gloat and whisper about me.”

“You’ll be there,” he said, his voice like steel. “I bought two dresses for you. Pick the gold dress. Jewelry is on the bed, I chose them myself.”

Her voice was a whisper of defiance. “I don’t care about your dresses.”

“You’ll wear it. You’ll smile. You’ll show them what a perfect wife looks like.”

Her lips parted in disbelief. “Perfect wife? You’ve broken me and still expect perfection.”

“It’s not about what you feel, Angela,” he said coldly. “It’s about what they see.”

Her tears blurred everything into fragments of light. “Do I matter at all?”

His phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then at her. “Not now.”

The two words splintered something inside her. “Not now,” she repeated hollowly.

The phone kept ringing, he grabbed it and stood up. “I have to take this.”

“Go. Of course, you have to take it.” Her voice was flat, lifeless. “Why stop pretending now?”

He leaned down and brushed a kiss across her cheek, perfunctory, almost mocking. “Don’t wait up for me.”

Her entire body stiffened under his touch. “…I won’t.”

The door shut behind him with a sound that echoed through her chest like finality.

Angela sat there in silence, the golden box still open before her. She rose slowly, her heels echoing in the cavernous apartment as she walked past the untouched food, past the closed bedroom door where the gold dress waited for her, and into the bathroom.

She locked the door and faced the mirror. A flawless woman in red silk stared back, eyes rimmed in tears. The reflection mocked her.

Her lips parted, her voice breaking on a whisper. “Happy anniversary, Angela.”

The words hung in the still air, sharp and cruel, and then dissolved into silence.