Chapter 1

On Christmas Eve, after I hurriedly wrapped up the year-end party arrangements, I rushed home.

As soon as I stepped inside, I caught my son and husband speaking in their local dialect.

"Dad, should we go visit Ms. Coombs later? When will you bring Ms. Coombs home?" asked Charlie Kent, my son.

With a smile, William Kent, my husband, replied in the dialect, "Sure. After Christmas, we'll bring Ms. Coombs home, okay?"

Seeing me enter, they didn't stop. "But will Mom make a fuss?" asked Charlie.

William nodded at me with a smile while saying something cruel under his breath.

"She can't understand our dialect. Even if she did, she wouldn't dare. Without us, she wouldn't even survive," he explained.

They didn't know I had secretly enrolled in a local dialect class in order to fit in with them.

Now it had turned into a blade that pierced right through me.

I forced a smile and kept calm in front of them.

Then I turned away and called my lawyer. "Mr. Goodwin, time to proceed with the divorce plan."

On the other end, Simon Goodwin couldn't resist teasing me a little.

"Ms. James, if you ever want a new job after the divorce, you're always welcome at our firm. Folks who are always planning ahead like you would make good lawyers," he said.

I let out a bitter laugh. If I'd truly planned ahead, I never would've stubbornly married William while Joanna Coombs still lingered in his heart.

Even when Joanna got divorced a year ago, I just stuck my head in the sand and told myself that, since we had a son, William would never rekindle things with her.

But reality swept away my false hopes. I was so disappointed.

At least, by some twist of fate, I'd managed to leave myself a backup plan.

I was struggling to breathe, crying. After pulling myself together in front of the mirror, I finally walked out of the bedroom.

When I came out, Charlie frowned at me.

"Mom, why'd you get home so late on Christmas Eve? Don't you know it's supposed to be family night?" he said.

William noticed that my eyes looked swollen, and a mix of suspicion and unease flashed through his expression. He gently stopped Charlie.

"Charlie, that's no way to talk to your mom," he said.

I looked at those two. They were such good actors, especially William. After we got married, he was so gentle and protective that I actually fooled myself into believing I'd won his heart.

Good thing that farce three years ago taught me to always have a backup plan.

William and Charlie exchanged glances, and Charlie, still fuming, declared, "Mom, tonight I'm setting off fireworks with Dad. You'd better stay home. It's safer for you anyway."

Without even giving me a chance to react, Charlie grabbed William's hand. William just flashed me a sorry smile, then walked out with him.

Just now, Charlie had wanted us all together for Christmas Eve, but in the blink of an eye, he ditched me at home like it was nothing.

That was when it really sank in. Ever since Joanna's divorce, this routine had played out more than once. Turned out, every excuse had been an obvious sign all along.

The living room had been buzzing with laughter, but now all I could hear was the show on the TV.

As the show panned over to the audience cracking up, I couldn't help feeling like I was the real jester on that stage.

Margaret, William's mother, was sitting there watching TV when she suddenly threw a sharp remark my way in dialect.

"After all these years, you still couldn't win his heart. Now even your son's taking his side against you. What a joke," Margaret sneered.

She dusted crumbs off her clothes, shot me a sideways look, and then switched to words I could actually understand, like she just remembered I wasn't supposed to understand their dialect. "Remember to sweep up the floor," she said.

The Kent family had plenty of house staff, but for Christmas, Margaret was playing queen for the day and gave everyone the day off. So now every bit of housework was dumped squarely on me.

I watched Margaret elegantly make her way upstairs and slowly slide down onto the couch, feeling my heart sink all the way to rock bottom.

Still clinging to a shred of hope, I scrolled through social media. Everything I feared was confirmed in plain sight.

Joanna, a local big blogger, had already uploaded a video of herself lighting fireworks.

The video was blurred, but that unmistakable tall build and the kid's outline gave away William and Charlie instantly.

One follower even asked in the comment section: [Hey Joanna, is that your husband and your boy? Looks so cozy together.]

Joanna just dropped a heart emoji in reply, leaving everyone's curiosity hanging in the air.

As the Show switched over to a new scene, the blue and white light from the TV flashed across my face.

I sat there, phone in hand, completely numb, when suddenly a message from William popped up.

[Honey, sorry. There are way too many people stuck in Northport tonight, and we can't get out anytime soon. Charlie's already asleep, and I'm worried he might catch a cold, so we're staying at a hotel nearby for the night.]

Feeling frustrated, I locked my phone. As midnight struck, fireworks lit up the night sky outside.

But as the celebration ended, I lay in bed all by myself, restless and utterly alone.

The next morning, I woke up with dark circles under my eyes. When I unlocked my phone, the first thing I saw was a message from William.

[Babe, come downstairs. Charlie and I are waiting for you. Folks will be coming over soon. No sleeping in today.]