Chapter 2

That evening, Wilson wasn't home. Ana had told him she felt the baby kicking strongly, so he found an excuse to be with her right away.

After four years of dating and three years of marriage, I thought Wilson loved me—until Ana came back, pregnant with someone else's child. Everything seemed to change overnight. The husband who once adored me was now completely devoted to another woman. I was trapped in a cold, joyless prison, gradually losing every bit of love I had for him. Disappointment piled up until there was nothing left. It was time for me to leave.

The next day, for the Thanksgiving gathering, Wilson promised he would come pick me up, calling several times to hurry me. But when I stepped outside, the only thing waiting was the bodyguard's car.

"Alessandra, something came up that I need to handle," he said on the phone. "You go ahead; I'll be there soon."

I had no expectations, so there was no disappointment. The bitter winter wind cut across my face like a razor, yet I felt no pain, just as I felt nothing for Wilson. From disappointment to despair, nothing could affect me anymore.

The car stopped in front of a club. I furrowed my brow but stepped out anyway. Led by the bodyguard, I entered a private room. I didn't recognize a single person inside. Their unfamiliar glances seemed to cut through me, full of mockery and disdain. It was as if I was someone they wanted to avoid.

"She's been unfaithful to Wilson, yet she has the nerve to let him throw her a Thanksgiving gathering."

"Poor Wilson, he still lets her keep that unwanted child."

“I can’t believe Wilson ever saw anything in her. She’s not even a shadow compared to Ana.”

Their voices were loud enough for me to hear. This was orchestrated by Wilson, I realized. He couldn't stand to see Ana face her parents’ criticism but didn’t consider that the hurt I suffered was far worse.

I could endure it, but I couldn't stand the thought of my child being scorned this way. I stood up, planning to leave. This so-called Thanksgiving gathering clearly wasn’t meant for me. But as I opened the door, there were Wilson and Ana standing right there. One looked away guiltily, the other with a smug smile. They heard it all. They heard every insult, every bit of ridicule. And yet, Wilson said nothing, allowing Ana to pull me back inside.

"So the guest of honor arrived early. Blame my slow pace, what with the baby," Ana said triumphantly, rubbing her belly and glancing at mine. It was as if to say, you're pregnant too, but it doesn't matter.

Her words sparked a chorus of teasing from the people around us.

“Wilson’s been Ana’s favorite for ages.”

“When your baby arrives, aren’t wedding bells next?”

“Don’t forget to invite us to the celebration.”

In the chorus of congratulations, they seemed to forget I was still Wilson's wife. They seemed to forget this was not an engagement party, but rather a Thanksgiving event full of guilt.

Watching their hypocrisy, I felt a wave of nausea I couldn't control. As I stood to leave, something caught Wilson’s attention. He frowned at me, his voice cold:

"This is your Thanksgiving gathering. What does it look like if you leave?"

"It’s just morning sickness. Bear through it."

But then Ana grimaced, pretending to gag. Instantly, Wilson was fussing over her, helping her sit down and pulling a spiced honey cake from his pocket, peeling back the wrapper and feeding her himself. Another chorus of teasing erupted around us.

I closed my eyes. My Thanksgiving gathering had turned into a showcase of their affection. They laughed and chatted with their mutual friends like a real couple, while I was forgotten in the corner. There wasn't even a turkey on the table. How absurd and laughable.

This was what Wilson had planned for my Thanksgiving. Swallowing my tears, I buried all my anguish deep inside. Congratulations are in order, Wilson. Because in two days, I will be gone for good. The title of Mrs. Martin can go to the one you truly care about.