Who's the Poor Thing Now?

The food on the table had gone cold, so I heated it up again.

Then, I just sat silently on the couch with my eyes open from 6:00 pm until midnight.

Yesterday, Troy Hoffman had promised he would come home to celebrate my birthday.

Maybe it had just been too long since we had had any time to ourselves, so I got all excited the next day. I rushed off to the grocery store early in the morning, then came back and cooked up a feast.

But he didn't come back. He didn't even call or send a message to explain.

At 8:00 pm, I tried to reach him, only to hear that his phone was powered off.

It was a quarter past twelve when Troy finally walked through the doors, carrying the chill of the night with him. His fingers were ice-cold.

He handed me a bouquet of roses and looked at me apologetically. "Happy birthday, honey."

Who knew when the flowers had been bought—the edges were already curled and wilted.

I didn't take them. "My birthday's over."

Troy took off his coat by the door. "It's okay. I'll make it up to you."

I reminded him, "It's not your place to say, 'it's okay.' That should come from the person who got stood up, not the one who broke his promise."

He walked over and bent down to hug me, his tone gentle as he said, "Come on, honey, don't be mad. I was wrong, okay? It was just really busy today."

He then glanced at the table and said in an exaggerated tone, "Wow, look at all this delicious food. You're amazing, honey!"

"Gary said you weren't at the office today. So tell me, what exactly kept you so busy? You didn't even call me once and just left me waiting at home all day."

Troy stiffened slightly. "I—"

"You can't say it? Then I'll say it for you. Let me guess—something happened over at Stacy's place again, right?

"The little one couldn't sleep because of nightmares? Or maybe he got hurt and every doctor in the world dropped dead, so Stacy had to call you? I've heard all those excuses a million times."

Troy turned around, looking exhausted. "Honey, no matter what, she's still my sister-in-law."

I let out a cold laugh. "Oh, I know she's your sister-in-law. But does she know? Or more accurately—do you know?"

The anger that had been simmering after being left alone all day surged up at once, and my words grew sharper, more cutting.

"You keep running off to a widow's place every few days—maybe you don't find that shameless, but I do!"

"Diane! Have you lost your mind?" Troy snapped, furious. "There's nothing going on between me and Stacy! I've never done anything to betray you."

I looked at him quietly, finding it laughable. The all powerful Troy Hoffman, decisive and commanding at work, always lost control of his emotions the moment that woman was mentioned.

He seemed to realize he had overreacted and made an effort to calm down.

"Jude suddenly had a fever today. Stacy panicked and didn't know what to do, and there's no man in that house. So she called me. What was I supposed to do—turn her down?"

Funny just how just this afternoon, Stacy Weaver had posted a video of Jude Hoffman having the time of his life in an amusement park. That fever had come at a perfect timing.

Stacy always managed to pull Troy away just when I needed him most.

Ever since Jerry Hoffman died, Troy had become a regular presence around Stacy. Photos of them together showed up again and again on her social media.

Compared to her, I seemed more like a widow.

When something broke at home, I called a repairman. When I got sick, I had to call for an ambulance myself. When I got bullied by others, I had to handle it alone.

And Troy always said, "Diane, your situation is different from Stacy's."

I really wanted to ask—how exactly was my situation different from hers.

The Hoffman family was rich, and Jim Hoffman—their dad—made the call to leave most of Jerry's estate and compensation to Stacy.