Chapter 2: The Birthday Party

Two days later was Lily's seventh birthday.

Elena knew about the party, of course. It was marked on the family calendar. But when she texted Marcus asking what time she should arrive and what Lily wanted for her birthday, he never responded.

She tried calling twice. Both calls went to voicemail.

The morning of the party, Elena woke early and baked Lily's favorite chocolate cake with vanilla buttercream, the one she made every year. She wrapped the charm bracelet carefully and wrote a heartfelt card.

When she arrived home mid-morning, expecting to help set up, she found the house strangely quiet.

Rosa, their housekeeper, was in the kitchen looking uncomfortable.

"Where is everyone?" Elena asked, setting down the cake carrier. "Isn't the party this afternoon?"

Rosa couldn't meet her eyes. "Mr. Ashford took Miss Lily to the venue early this morning, ma'am. He said the party would be held elsewhere."

"Elsewhere? What do you mean? We always do her birthday here." Elena felt confusion mixing with growing dread.

Rosa hesitated, then handed her an elegant card she'd been holding. "He left this. I think it's the invitation."

Elena's hands trembled as she read the embossed text:

You're Invited to Celebrate Lily Ashford's 7th Birthday Sterling Estate - Garden Pavilion 2:00 PM

The Sterling Estate. Vivian's family home.

Elena had to grip the counter to steady herself. "He's throwing her birthday party at Vivian's house?"

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Ashford," Rosa whispered, tears in her eyes.

Elena tried Marcus's phone again. It rang once, then went to voicemail. He had rejected her call.

She stood in her own kitchen, holding a homemade cake, locked out of her own daughter's birthday party.

For a long moment, she couldn't breathe. Then she carefully set down the cake, picked up her purse, and drove to the address on the invitation.

The Sterling Estate was forty minutes outside the city, a sprawling property that looked like it belonged in a luxury magazine. Manicured gardens, a fountain in the circular drive, the kind of old money elegance Marcus's family appreciated.

Expensive cars lined the driveway. Elena had to park at the end of the long line.

She followed a stone path around the side of the house toward the sound of children's laughter and music. The party was set up in an enormous garden pavilion, decorated like something from a fairy tale.

White silk draping, hundreds of flowers, a dessert table that looked professionally catered, a string quartet playing softly. This wasn't a children's birthday party. This was a society event designed to impress.

Elena spotted them immediately in the center of it all.

Marcus and Vivian stood side by side like hosts, greeting guests with warm smiles. Lily ran between groups of well-dressed children, but she kept returning to Vivian's side, showing her gifts, seeking her attention.

Elena walked closer, feeling like an intruder at her own daughter's party. Several guests glanced at her with polite confusion, clearly wondering who she was.

She reached the edge of the main gathering just as Marcus's business partner, Richard, raised his champagne glass for a toast.

"To Marcus and Vivian, and to beautiful little Lily! May your family have many more celebrations like this!"

The crowd cheered and clinked glasses enthusiastically.

Elena felt the words like a physical blow to her chest.

Marcus smiled and nodded his thanks but didn't correct Richard's assumption. Vivian placed her hand lightly on Marcus's arm, the picture of a gracious hostess.

"Excuse me, dear."

Elena turned to find an older woman in pearls looking at her pleasantly. "I don't believe we've met. Are you a friend of the family?"

Before Elena could answer, Lily's excited voice rang out across the garden.

"Miss Vivian! Miss Vivian, look at this!"

Lily came running up holding a large wrapped box, her face glowing with excitement. "Daddy said this is from both of you! Can I open it now?"

Vivian knelt down gracefully, her designer dress pooling around her. "Of course, sweetheart! Your father and I picked this out together especially for you."

Lily tore open the wrapping to reveal an elaborate art set, the kind professional artists used. Her eyes went wide. "This is amazing! Will you teach me how to use the oil paints?"

"We'll paint together every weekend," Vivian promised, pulling Lily into a hug. "You and me, creating beautiful art."

"I love you, Miss Vivian," Lily said, her small arms wrapped tight around Vivian's neck.

Marcus watched them with an expression of such tenderness that Elena had to look away. That look had once been for her, in the very beginning, before everything went wrong.

"They really are a lovely family," someone nearby murmured to their companion.

Elena couldn't stay another second. She turned and walked quickly back toward the parking area, her breath coming in short gasps, her vision tunneling.

Behind her, the party continued. Music played, children laughed, adults chatted over champagne.

No one called after her.

No one had even realized she'd been there.

Elena drove aimlessly for twenty minutes, her hands shaking on the wheel, before she pulled over on a quiet residential street and completely broke down.

She counted backward from fifty, trying to use the technique that usually helped her manage overwhelming emotions. Fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight, forty-seven.

But the numbers scattered in her mind, useless against this kind of pain.

Finally, she called the one person who would understand.

"Elena?" Aunt Paulina answered on the second ring. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? You sound upset."

"Can I come over?" Elena managed to say through tears. "I need to talk to someone."

"Of course. Come right now. I'll put tea on."

Thirty minutes later, Elena sat in her aunt's cozy living room, wrapped in a soft blanket, and told her everything. The ballet recital where Lily performed with Vivian. The birthday party at Vivian's estate where everyone assumed Marcus and Vivian were a couple. Seven years of being invisible in her own marriage.

When she finished, Aunt Paulina was quiet for a long moment.

"Do you remember what I said when you told me you were giving up your career to be a full-time wife and mother?" her aunt finally asked.

Elena shook her head.

"I said you were making a mistake. Not because being a mother isn't valuable, but because you were abandoning who you are to become who you thought he wanted. You're brilliant, Elena. Your mind is extraordinary. And you've spent seven years dimming your own light because you thought it would make him love you."

"I just wanted a real family," Elena whispered.

"I know. But you can't sacrifice everything you are for people who don't even see you." Aunt Paulina took Elena's hands. "What do you want now? Not what you think you should want. What do you actually need?"

Elena closed her eyes. The answer came clearly, like a solved equation finally making sense.

"I want out. I want a divorce."

Elena had first suspected Marcus's affair about eight months ago, though she didn't confirm it until six months later.

The signs had been obvious in hindsight. Late nights at the office that smelled of perfume. Text messages he deleted immediately. A distance between them that went beyond his usual coldness.

Only a handful of people knew Marcus was actually married. His parents and two close friends from college. To everyone else in his social and business circles, he appeared to be an eligible bachelor.

When he started appearing at events with Vivian Sterling on his arm, no one questioned it. Why would they? The beautiful fashion designer seemed like the perfect match for the luxury real estate mogul.

Marcus's parents had objected when they found out, of course. Catherine and Victor Ashford adored Elena. They had tried everything to make their son appreciate her, even suggesting she work alongside him in the business so they could be partners.

But Elena had given up her promising career in biomedical engineering for him. She had abandoned her research, her ambitions, everything she had worked for.

All for a love that never materialized.

The harder she tried to be the perfect wife, the colder Marcus became.

By the time Elena discovered definitive proof of the affair, it was already too late. Marcus had been bringing Vivian around Lily for months, introducing her as "Daddy's friend from work."

Lily was too young to understand what was happening. She was innocent, trusting, easily charmed by someone who brought gifts and paid attention to her.

"Miss Vivian is so nice, Mommy," Lily had said months ago, showing Elena a new doll. "She knows all about fashion and she lets me try on pretty things. She and Daddy work together."

Back then, Elena had felt uneasy but didn't want to seem paranoid or controlling. But when she started hearing rumors about Marcus Ashford and the beautiful designer, something clicked into place.

The woman's name was Vivian Sterling. The same person Lily had been talking about.

Elena confronted Marcus one evening after Lily was asleep. She was shaking with anger and hurt, demanding to know the truth.

He barely looked up from his laptop.

"What I do outside this house is none of your concern," he said coldly.

That was how little she mattered to him.

It hurt more than any direct cruelty could have.

A week after that confrontation, Marcus informed her she would be going to Shanghai for an important negotiation.

"This deal requires someone with your analytical skills," he said. It was the first compliment he'd given her in years. "Only you can close it."

For a brief moment, Elena had felt valued. Important. Like maybe he did see her worth after all.

She worked herself to exhaustion in Shanghai, determined to succeed, to prove herself, to make him proud.

But it had all been a manipulation.

Marcus had sent her away deliberately. He wanted her out of the country so he could integrate Vivian more deeply into Lily's life. So they could build a bond without Elena interfering.

Now that she was back, she could see exactly what he had accomplished.

He hadn't just betrayed her marriage.

He had stolen her daughter's heart.