Chapter 1
After Roland Herman left home for his childhood sweetheart, Aubrie, the nineteenth time, something inside me finally went quiet.
While tidying his drawer, I found two movie tickets.
He explained flatly, without even looking at me, "I was going to surprise you. Since you found them already, let's meet at the theater tonight."
That evening, I sat in the cinema from opening credits to the final roll, but Roland never showed.
On my way home, I accidentally scrolled across Aubrie's post.
It read: [Even though someone didn't take me to the movies, I'll forgive him this once, considering he made up for it with a beautiful fireworks show.]
I looked up. Not far away, fireworks were blooming brilliantly across the night sky. I didn't know why, but this time, it felt like I had suddenly lost all strength to love him.
*****
I pushed open the door, completely drained, and unexpectedly spotted a pair of leather shoes carelessly tossed on the floor.
Frustrated, I kicked them far away. The fact that even the movie tickets were just a piece of someone else's happiness I'd stolen for myself made everything feel even more pathetic.
All these years, I'd just been a pathetic clown living under Aubrie Wilkinson's shadow.
Roland Herman lounged on the couch like nothing was wrong, casually reaching out to me just like he always did.
"Water," he said.
"You have hands, don't you? Get it yourself," I grumbled.
If it had been before, I would've jumped up to fetch him coffee, give him a massage, never missing a single chance to get on Roland's good side.
But now, I finally understood. I couldn't force love. If I did, it would always taste bitter in the end.
Roland seemed a bit taken aback by how I acted today, and for once, his attitude toward me was actually gentle.
He said, "There was some urgent stuff at work tonight, so I forgot about our plans. We can catch a movie another time. Can you tone it down? Act like this, and you'll just make me look bad if we go out together."
My fury ignited instantly.
Sneaking around with another woman behind my back, and he had the audacity to scold me?
Years of swallowed resentment burst through in an instant.
"I'm the one embarrassing? What about you, sneaking off with Aubrie behind my back? Isn't that humiliating? You shameless jerk! Does it feel good being with your side chick?" I spat.
Roland's temper flared, sharp as fire.
"Emmalee Blackburn, watch your mouth! There's nothing going on between Aubrie and me the way you imagine. Stop projecting your filthy thoughts onto us," he snapped.
"A jealous woman like you isn't even worth comparing to her," he sneered.
His venom didn't pierce me anymore.
Ten years of this had numbed me. Insults bounced off like rain.
I stormed to the wall, yanked down our wedding photo, and smashed it to shards on the floor, grinding it beneath my heel.
Roland froze, disbelief twisting his face. Then he shoved me aside. "Are you insane, Emmalee? You're not just twisted. You're seriously messed up!"
Glass sliced into my wrist, blood pooling, but I didn't flinch. I sat on the floor, bitter laughter escaping.
Sitting there, I laughed bitterly and said, "If I'm so worthless to you, then let's get divorced! Once we're done, you can be with Aubrie out in the open. Maybe you two can finally ride off into the sunset together."
Roland pressed his fingers to his forehead, irritation flashing. "Fine! Divorce it is! You said it yourself. Don't blame me if you regret this, Emmalee."
He didn't hesitate to kick me out.
Regret? Not even close.
The only regret I felt was that he had never signed the divorce papers.
Ten years of being discarded had stripped me of what it meant to love or be loved.
All that remained was venom for Roland and Aubrie.
Ten years wasted, yearning for a glance, a touch. Aubrie got his love, his attention, effortlessly. I'd married him, yet I was always second.
Why did Aubrie get all his love and attention without lifting a finger?
Why was it that even though Roland married me, Aubrie kept making sure he never forgot about her?
It felt like I snatched our marriage away, as if it never really belonged to me.
The truth was that Aubrie was the real homewrecker here.
Just thinking about it made me tremble with anger. Why should I play the martyr and let those cheating losers have their happy ending? If sneaking around was their thing, then I would let them cheat out in the open for everyone to see.
I set up an alt account on Instagram and, as his wife, exposed all the dirty secrets Aubrie and Roland had been hiding for the past ten years of my marriage.