Chapter 1
On Thanksgiving Day, I put together a whole holiday dinner and waited for my husband, Jonathan Reed, to come home.
But he walked through the door with Emily Winters, his first love.
"Claire, Emily got back from overseas. Let's all eat here tonight," Jonathan said.
Emily hooked her arm through his and gave me a smug little smile, and I set my apron down without any fuss.
"Sure. Let me go get the divorce papers," I said.
"What?" Jonathan went rigid.
I smiled and pulled the folder I had prepared long ago out of the drawer. "Mr. Reed, sign here."
In that second, Jonathan came apart.
On Thanksgiving morning, I was up and working by six.
I washed produce, trimmed the meat, mixed the stuffing, and rolled out a pie crust by hand.
Every step got my full attention, all so Jonathan and I could have one warm Thanksgiving together.
We had been married three years, but he was always buried in work, and we almost never sat down to a real meal.
He had finally agreed to come home for dinner, so of course I put everything into it.
The kitchen smelled incredible, and looking at the loaded table made me happy.
Roast turkey, glazed ham, green bean casserole, cornbread stuffing, and his favorite, garlic butter scallops.
At six-thirty, I put on a new beige dress, did light makeup, and waited in the living room.
Seven o'clock, eight o'clock, eight-thirty.
I called him, but his phone was off.
I texted him, but he didn't reply.
I felt a bit down, but I forced myself to stay positive.
Maybe something had come up at work, or maybe he was stuck in traffic.
At nine, the lock finally turned.
I ran to the door. "Jonathan, you're home. I made so much—"
But before I could finish, I froze.
There was a woman right behind him.
It was Emily.
She was his college classmate and first love.
She had come back from overseas three months earlier, an elite hire fresh off a posting abroad.
"Claire, Emily got back from overseas. Let's all eat here tonight," Jonathan said, so relaxed about it that bringing another woman home for Thanksgiving seemed like nothing at all.
Emily wore Chanel head to toe with her makeup perfect. She held on to Jonathan's arm and smiled at me. "Hope I'm not intruding, Claire. Jonathan brags about your cooking, so I came to taste it."
Her hand stayed wrapped around my husband's arm, and standing there together, the two of them matched.
And I was the one who didn't fit.
"It's fine. The food is ready, so let's eat," I said, forcing a smile and turning toward the dining room.
Inside, it felt like someone had put a knife in me and turned it.
Thanksgiving was supposed to be the night a husband and wife sat down together.
And he had brought another woman home.
His first love, no less.
I took a long breath in the kitchen and told myself to stay calm.
Maybe they were only friends having dinner, and I was letting my head run.
Once I had myself together, I carried the last dish out, a tureen of squash soup.
And there was Emily in my usual chair, loading Jonathan's plate like the house was hers.
"Jonathan, try the stuffing. It looks amazing."
"You eat too, Emily. Don't spend the whole meal serving me."
The two of them talked and laughed, and I might as well not have been in the room.
I stood in the doorway holding the soup, unable to walk in or walk away.
Right then I remembered what Jonathan had said at our wedding three years earlier. "Claire, I'm going to take care of you for the rest of my life."
That was supposed to be the rest of my life.
But here we are, just three years later, and everything's already fallen apart.
"Claire, why are you standing there? Come sit," Emily said, looking up with a sweet smile.
But what I saw in her eyes was a bare challenge.
She was staking a claim.
In my house, at my table, right in front of me.
I walked over, set the soup down, and took a seat on the other side.
"Jonathan, do you remember the Thanksgiving we spent together in college?" Emily said, her eyes soft on him.
"Of course I remember. Back then we—" Jonathan stopped himself, as though he had caught what he was about to say.
"What happened back then?" I asked.
The air went awkward at once.
Emily's eyes flashed with a hint of smugness. "Oh, nothing, just some old college memories. You don't mind, right, Claire?"
"Why would I mind?" I answered calmly.
But a storm was raging inside me.
At our family reunion dinner, they were busy reminiscing about their romantic memories.
What kind of move was that?
Jonathan kept his head down and ate without a word.
Emily kept going. "Jonathan, there's a project at Reed Holdings tomorrow that needs you on it directly. I already put the file together."
"Thanks. I appreciate it, Emily," Jonathan said, and his eyes went soft on her.
Something clicked for me. "Hold on. The two of you work at the same company?"
"Yes. Emily is my CFO now."
She was his CFO.
That wasn't a small chair to hand anyone.
Emily had been back three months and already had the job, which told me exactly how well Jonathan had been looking after her.
"That's impressive," I said, and the cold in my chest kept spreading.
No wonder he had been getting home later and later. He had company for all those late nights.
"You're too kind, Claire. I got lucky and landed a good boss," Emily said, and she looked straight at me when she said it.
That look said plainly that he treated her better.
I picked up my glass and drained it.