My Ex-Fiancée Is Now My Uncle's Wife

Anne woke up at six in the morning even though today was her twenty sixth birthday.

She slipped out of the bed quietly so she would not wake Donald. The house was silent except for the sound of her footsteps on the cold tiles as she made her way to the kitchen.

Anne always made him breakfast every morning. Today she was making it extra fancy. She added candles to the plate of the toast. In the process of putting the finishing touches, she heard the door open and Donald walked in.

"Good morning," Anne said, smiling sweetly. "I made your favorite."

Donald walked past her to the coffee machine. He was already on his phone, scrolling through something. His hair was still wet from the shower.

"Morning," he said, not sparing her a single glance.

Anne watched him pour coffee into his mug. He hadn't touched the breakfast nor had he seen the candles yet.

"Donald," she said softly. "It's my birthday."

He glanced at her briefly, stopping to stare at her for a brief second. Then his eyes went back to his phone as he muttered a half hearted "Happy birthday”

Anne couldn't believe that was all she got from someone she had been engaged to for three years. He didn't even force a smile with his wishes. She swallowed her disappointment. 

She'd gotten good at doing that over the years. She was about to start up a small conversation about his night to clear the awkward air when his phone rang.

The caller ID said "Hannah."

Donald's face changed completely. His expression softened as he answered the call immediately.

"Hannah? What's wrong?" His voice was warm now and extremely concerned unlike how he was with her seconds ago.

Anne stood there holding a plate of cold French toast while her fiancé talked to another woman like she was the most important person in the world.

"No, no, it's fine. I'm not busy," Donald said. He was smiling now. "Are you feeling okay? Did you take your medication?"

Anne set the plate down. The candles had melted into the berries she had decorated into a heart shape.

Donald talked for ten more minutes while Anne cleaned the kitchen. When he finally hung up, he looked at her like he'd forgotten she was there.

"I'll take you shopping," he said suddenly like he felt guilty "For your birthday."

Anne blinked. "What?"

"Shopping. You wanted that, right?" He was already texting someone. "We can go to that boutique you like then after go for dinner."

It wasn't what she wanted. She'd wanted him to remember on his own. She'd wanted breakfast together. She'd wanted him to look at her the way he looked at his phone when Hannah called.

But she said, "Okay."

Because that's what she always said.

******

Luminère was one of the most expensive boutiques in the city. 

Anne didn't care about the prices. Her family could buy this entire building without blinking. But Donald didn't know that. He thought he was the one with the most money in their relationship. He thought she was lucky to be with him and she had never corrected him.

"Pick anything you want," Donald said. He was on his phone again. He'd been on it the entire drive over. It was like when he was with her physically he was never present mentally.

Anne walked through the racks slowly checking out the new collections. Everything was beautiful but nothing felt like her style until she saw an emerald green dress.

The dress was long, simple but elegant. It stood out on its own without trying too hard.

Also, it was the perfect colour because Green was Donald’s favorite color. He'd told her that on their second date, three years ago, back when he still told her things.

"I'll try this one," Anne said.

The sales associate smiled. "Excellent choice. It's our last one in stock."

Anne held the dress up to her body, checking the mirror. She was extremely happy about her choice till the boutique door opened welcoming a guest who was the last person Anne wanted close to her today.

She knew who it was before she even turned around. She could tell by the way Donald's whole demeanor changed and by the way his face lit up.

"Hannah," Donald said. "What are you doing here?"

Hannah Grey walked in like an untouchable diamond. Anne had to give it to her, she looked like an angel…a delicate one. She's the kind of girl you would want to protect, so soft, delicate and innocent.

"Donald!" Hannah's eyes went wide. "I didn't know you'd be here. What a coincidence."

Anne knew it wasn't a coincidence. It never was with Hannah.

"I thought you weren't feeling well," Donald said. He walked over to her, concerned. "You sounded terrible on the phone."

"I'm feeling a bit better now," Hannah said. She touched his arm lightly. "I remembered you promised to help me pick a dress for the Harrison gala next week. But if you're busy…"

"No, I'm not busy," Donald said.

Anne was standing right there. Holding a dress. On her birthday. But Donald seemed oblivious to her existence.

"Oh, Anne." Hannah finally looked at her. Her smile was sweet. "Happy birthday. I'm so sorry to interrupt your special day."

"You're not interrupting," Donald said before Anne could speak.

Hannah's eyes landed on the dress in Anne's hands. 

"Oh," Hannah breathed. "That dress. It's perfect."

Anne's grip tightened on the hanger.

"I've been looking for something exactly like that," Hannah continued. She turned to the sales associate. "Do you have this in my size?"

The sales associate looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Miss Grey. That's our last one. The lady is about to try it on."

Hannah's face fell. She looked at Donald. Then at Anne. Then back at Donald.

"It's okay," Hannah said quietly. "I'm sure I can find something else."

But she didn't move. She just stood there looking sad and beautiful and heartbroken over a dress.

Donald looked at Anne.

Anne knew that look. She'd seen it a hundred times before.

"Anne," Donald said. "Maybe you could pick something else? Hannah really needs a dress for the gala, and…"

"No," Anne said.

The word came out harder than she'd intended.

Donald's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I said no." Anne held the dress closer. "I saw it first. I'm buying it."

Hannah stepped closer. She was smiling but her eyes were not.

"Anne," Hannah said softly. "The dress wouldn't suit you anyway. Green isn't really your color." She paused. "Besides, I thought you hated green."

Anne's jaw clenched. "It's Donald's favorite color."

"I know," Hannah said, coming closer to hold the dress. "That's why I want it."

The words hung in the air between the both of them. Anne knew what she meant but Donald had always been too blind to see the true colour of Hannah. He called her paranoid and crazy every time she brought up the fact that his childhood friend wanted him for herself and she would stop at nothing till she was satisfied.

But Anne had always let her have her way but this dress was hers. She wouldn't give it up!

"You know what…" Anne started.

Hannah stumbled backward suddenly. Her heel caught on nothing. She fell, her arms flailing, hitting the display table on her way down.

"Oh my God!" Hannah cried out. "Anne!"

It happened so fast. One second Hannah was standing. The next she was on the floor, looking up at Anne with wide, terrified eyes.

Like Anne had pushed her.

"What the hell!" Donald rushed to Hannah's side. "What is wrong with you?"

"I didn't—" Anne stared at her hands. "I didn't touch her."

"Don't lie!" Donald helped Hannah sit up. "I saw you move toward her."

"I was just talking," Anne said. Her voice was shaking now. "I didn't push her."

Hannah was crying. Delicate tears running down her perfect face.

"It's okay, Donald," Hannah whispered. "She didn't mean it. She's just upset about the dress. I understand."

"This is unnecessary, Anne," Donald said. His voice was cold. He sounded like he was so disgusted. "Over a dress? Really?"

He pulled out his black card and threw it at Anne. It hit her chest and fell to the floor.

"Keep the dress," Donald said. "If you want it that desperately."

He called her Desperate over a measly dress worth 10 grand? What a big slap!

"Donald, please," Hannah said. She tried to stand but winced. "My ankle…"

"Don't move." Donald was gentle with her. So gentle. He lifted her into his arms in bridal style. 

Hannah wrapped her arms around his neck. She looked at Anne over his shoulder.

"Why do you hate me?" Hannah asked. Her voice was small and hurt and perfect. "What did I ever do to you?"

Anne stood there. Holding a dress and a black card that wasn't even warm from his hand.

Donald carried Hannah out of the boutique and he didn't look back.

The sales associate picked up the card and handed it to Anne.

"Would you still like the dress, miss?"

Anne looked at the emerald green fabric and felt like throwing up. What she loved moments ago now repulsed her just by looking at it. So she left it on the racks, placed the card on the counter, and walked out as the sales rep echoed her name.

******

The restaurant Donald had chosen was a french restaurant Le Ciel. Their table was on the third floor reserved for two hours and Anne had been alone over the past hour with no message from Donald.

The waiter kept asking if she wanted to order. She kept saying she was waiting for someone.

People at nearby tables started whispering.

“Poor lady, I think she got stood up”

“She might be too desperate who knows”

“I could never let a man treat me like this”

“She could be his mistress”

Anne finally ordered a glass of wine out of frustration but she didn't drink it…couldn't drink it.

As she was about to stand up after enduring enough humiliation her phone pinged. It was a message from Hannah with a photo attached to it.

Anne’s breath quickened as she opened it afraid of what she could find.

It was a picture of Donald in Hannah's apartment. Anne recognized the white furniture. Hannah was on the couch wearing pajamas, looking small and fragile. Donald was sitting next to her, holding her hand.

The message attached said:

I'm so sorry about your birthday, Anne. I didn't mean to take Donald away from you today. I just wasn't feeling well and he insisted on staying with me. Please don't be angry with him. It's my fault. - Hannah