Chapter 2

Michelle looked at me with a smug, self-assured smile.

“Olivia, don’t take it personally. At work, we’re used to being direct. It saves time. I suppose it’s different when you’re a stay-at-home mom with all day to dance around the point.”

She took a sip of her drink, then added, “Also, Olivia, you really shouldn’t think of me as a stranger. I know what George likes to eat and where he spends his nights probably better than you do.”

I fought down the nausea rising in my chest and tightened my grip on the purse resting in my lap.

“If George has something to say to me, he can say it himself. You and I have nothing to discuss.”

“Oh, Olivia, there’s no need to get worked up.”

She reached out and caught my arm, then casually pulled a photograph from her purse and slid it across the table.

She tapped the face of the young man in the picture.

“Take a good look. Doesn’t he look just like George?”

My heart lurched painfully in my chest.

“George and I have been together for twenty, maybe thirty years. At the office, in bed, everywhere in between. My son is a year older than that daughter of yours who does nothing but sleep all day.”

“Twenty or thirty years? That’s not a relationship. That’s an affair. You’re his mistress!”

Michelle laughed.

Someone at the next table glanced over.

Heat rushed to my face. I wanted to disappear under the table.

Michelle, on the other hand, simply smoothed her hair and seemed even more at ease.

“His mistress? When was the last time George even wanted you? If a man spends more than twenty years wanting another woman instead of his own wife, you have to ask yourself which one of us is really the other woman.

“The one who is not loved is.”

I bit down hard on my lip.

“I am George’s wife. Legally.”

“His wife?”

“You’ve been married to him all these years, but what kind of wife have you actually been? You gave him one useless daughter and then spent your life coddling her.

“Now she’s twenty-three, unemployed, barely leaves the house, and completely useless.”

I looked straight at her.

“Michelle, whatever is going on between you and me, leave my daughter out of it.”

Something flickered across Michelle’s face.

“I’m only saying this for your own good. Keep clinging to a marriage that’s already over, and eventually your daughter will be the one embarrassed by it.”

My fingers tightened around the strap of my purse.

She pulled a document from her purse and slid it across the table toward me.

“Sign it. It’s a divorce agreement. You waive any claim to the house, the savings, and everything. You walk away with nothing.”

“Why should I?”

Michelle snorted.

“I tolerated this arrangement for years because my son was still growing up, and I didn’t want him caught in the middle. But he’s grown now, and he’s getting married. He deserves to have his family be together.

“If you step aside willingly, we can all keep this civil. But if you force this into court, the only people who are going to end up humiliated are you and your useless daughter.”

I stared at the papers. A chill spread through my entire body.

Then, Michelle suddenly smiled.

She pulled out her phone, dialed a number, and deliberately put the call on speaker.

“Ruth, it’s me. Michelle.”

Ruth answered in a warm tone I had never once heard her use with me.

“Michelle, honey. What’s going on?”

Michelle glanced at me, then softened her voice into something sweet and apologetic.

“Ruth, I couldn’t keep it quiet anymore. I met with Olivia today and told her everything. She won’t sign the divorce agreement. You’re not mad at me, are you?”

I held my breath. My nails dug into my palms.

There was a second of silence on the other end.

Just one second.

Then, Ruth’s voice came through loud and clear.

“Oh, why would I be mad at you? You did exactly the right thing. God knows how long I’ve been waiting for this.

“That woman should’ve been gone years ago, along with that spoiled, useless daughter of hers. Come over, honey. I’ll make you something nice for dinner.”

Michelle raised her chin at me with a triumphant smile.

Humiliation washed over me so completely that I started trembling.

Michelle ended the call. Then, she picked up her purse and arrogantly stared into my eyes.

“You heard her. The Dunne family stopped thinking of you as family a long time ago.”

Her heels clicked across the floor as she walked away without looking back.

I barely remembered how I made it home.

When I walked in, Zoe’s bedroom door was closed.

I locked myself in the bathroom and turned on the shower.

The sound of the water drowned out my sobs.

I finally broke down, sliding slowly down the wall until I was sitting on the floor.

I had given up my career for this family.

All these years, I had turned myself into nothing more than the family housekeeper.

If I got divorced, how was I supposed to support my daughter?

Zoe was twenty-three years old and could barely peel an orange for herself.

What would people think of her if this whole scandal came out?

If she found out that George had built an entirely separate family with another woman, what would that do to her?

That night, I carried a mug of warm milk into Zoe’s room.

As I watched her sleeping peacefully, I nearly started crying again.