My Husband of Seven Years Says I’m His Ex-Wife

The young woman heard the noise and turned to look at me. "Are you all right, miss?"

"I can ask the waiter to bring you a new set of silverware."

I forced a smile. "Thank you."

I picked up my knife and fork again, but I couldn't swallow another bite of the Wagyu beef.

Six months ago, Kevin had brought me to this exclusive restaurant.

"Babe, this place is super exclusive. Their dry-aged steak is five hundred dollars a plate. The quality is incredible."

I frowned.

"A five-hundred-dollar meal? That's enough to pay for a full day of private care for Lily at the nursing home. We should leave."

But Kevin firmly wrapped his arm around my waist, pressing me back into my seat.

"I have two meals credited to my account. My wife works so hard taking care of our home every day. You deserve a reward like this."

"Next time I go on a business trip, you can come back and use the other one on your own."

But when it was time to order, the instruction "no arugula in the salad" had subconsciously slipped out.

After I pointed it out, panic had flashed in his eyes.

That night, he was uncharacteristically tender and affectionate.

I had thought it was a sign of his guilt over leaving me alone during his long business trip.

Only now did I understand. It was guilt.

"Miss?" the young woman called to me softly. "The beef here is really good. Why aren't you eating?"

I looked up and studied her carefully.

She couldn't have been much older than twenty, dressed in a designer dress from the latest collection.

Resting beside her was a limited-edition Birkin bag.

In comparison, I instinctively clutched my own worn, four-year-old, no-name bag. It was laughably shabby.

"That account number you gave for the tab, it's your husband's?" I asked, feigning casual curiosity.

She nodded without a hint of suspicion, her smile making her eyes crinkle at the corners.

"Yeah, my husband spoils me rotten. Just because I mentioned once that the steaks here were delicious, he opened a twenty-thousand-dollar house account for me."

"And a couple of days ago, he dropped two hundred thousand on me at the biggest jewelry store in the North End."

"I told him it was too much, but he just laughed and said I deserve the best of everything in the world."

Her cheeks were flushed as she spoke, her face glowing with happiness.

She practically glowed in the restaurant's soft, ambient light.

An icy dread washed over me.

Kevin's mother, Lily, was paralyzed in an accident and lived in a private nursing home that burned through money.

I spent my days at the nursing home and my evenings taking care of our young daughter at home.

Our daughter's private school tuition ate up most of our budget.

What was left for me was so little I hesitated before even buying a cup of coffee.

For the past two years, I'd been secretly selling off my personal belongings to cover our bottomless household expenses.

I had sold off nearly all the valuable jewelry from my family.

I sympathized with Kevin, knowing how hard he worked to build this life from scratch, so I never complained.

I even thought he was madly in love with me for treating me to that five-hundred-dollar dinner.

After all, I was the one who, after a huge fight with my parents, had chosen to give up my privileged position as an heiress, hide my identity, and run away to build a life devoted to Kevin.

I thought I had won the gamble of love, but I never imagined he would turn around and drop two hundred thousand on another woman without batting an eye.

"Your husband is wonderful."

I heard my own voice drift out. "I'm so envious."

She touched her belly, a little shyly. "I'm carrying his child. Of course he's good to me."

"Actually… we had a secret wedding two years ago. He said as soon as he resolves things with his ex-wife, he'll legally marry me. My parents were worried at first that I was getting married too young and would be taken advantage of, but luckily, my life now is both exciting and sweet."

Two years ago. That was the year Kevin convinced me to quit my job to "focus on being a wife and mother" at home.

I gripped the napkin on my lap so tightly my knuckles turned white. My nails dug into my palms, but I felt no pain.

So his claims of "caring for me" and "doing what's best for me" were nothing but a carefully constructed lie.