Chapter 4

The day Margaret Monroe asked to meet me, she was elegantly dressed.

Her hair was immaculately permed, and she wore a pair of pearl earrings.

She looked me up and down, then smiled.

She said, "Have a seat. Word has it you have been causing quite a stir these days. Michael can barely eat or sleep because of you. We're all getting on in years. Why make such a fuss at our age?"

I had to bite back a laugh.

I said, "Is that why you asked me out? To defend him?"

She raised an eyebrow.

She said, "I simply don't see the need. I never intended to take him from you. If I had wanted him, you wouldn't have been part of the picture back then."

She spoke with calm indifference, as if stating a simple fact.

Yet that very indifference cut deeper than any insult.

Back when I was young, I always knew she was beautiful.

She dressed well, spoke well, sang, and danced with grace. She turned heads wherever she went. Compared to her, I was nothing but a woman chained to the stove, buried in housework.

I used to feel so intimidated standing next to her.

But things have changed.

I looked at her and asked, "If you never wanted to take him from me, why did you marry Michael?"

She pulled an old photo out of her bag and slid it across the table to me.

The man in the picture was young, in a military uniform, and bore a strong resemblance to Michael.

She said, "This was my fiancé. He died young. He was the one I was supposed to marry."

She stroked the photo, her eyes soft with sorrow.

"When I saw Michael, for a second, I thought my fiancé had come back," Margaret said. "That certificate means marriage to you, but to me, it's simply a keepsake, a piece of the past."

After hearing her words, all I felt was absurdity.

Michael, a man so obsessed with his own image, actually agreed to play second fiddle to a dead man? How deeply must he have cared for her?

Margaret slipped the photo back into her bag, lifting her chin in that haughty way of hers.

She said, "Rest assured, I'm not here to steal him from you. And seriously, stop casting yourself as the victim.

"Michael's never treated you poorly. Your own kids are smart enough to see that.

"If they don't think it's a big deal, why are you making such a fuss?"

When she spoke of my kids being smart enough, my heart clenched hard.

She kept talking. "When Lynn took those photos for us, she couldn't stop grinning.

"She said we should've had a proper memento like that a long time ago.

"Your son gets it too. He said his father deserved to have his lifelong wish fulfilled."

I stood up from my seat.

Margaret raised an eyebrow, expecting that I was about to snap. "What's wrong? Can't handle it?"

I shook my head.

I said, "No, I have figured something out. Guess in your eyes, I'm not a person."

With that, I turned and walked away.

Margaret called after me. "Susan, you're not young anymore. Save yourself some dignity and don't go around making a scene."

Dignity? That's a joke.

I've spent my whole life making sure this family looked respectable.

From now on, I won't bother with that anymore.

After meeting Margaret, I actually felt calm.

The worst thing is to live in ignorance.

But once you finally see the truth, your heart goes cold.

***** The next morning, I gathered all the evidence and recordings saved on my phone and headed straight to the law firm.

The lawyer was young, but she spoke with a calm assurance.

"Ma'am, take your time," she said.

So I did.

I told her everything: how I had married into the Wade family at nineteen, how I had raised Michael's children, and how I never received a marriage license.

And how, at seventy, I had learned to use the internet and stumbled upon his golden wedding photo with Margaret.

I said, "I'm going to sue him. For bigamy."

She let out a sigh.

She said, "Not every lawsuit is only about winning or losing. It's never too late to find out where people's loyalties lie.

"Ma'am, you've got plenty of evidence, but at your age, if you follow through with this, you will not be the only one hurt.

"Especially about your kids. You should talk to them first and find out how they truly feel."

I got what she meant.

When I left the law firm, my feet felt like lead.

As I walked back to the old house, I spotted someone crouched by the door.

Lynn's eyes were swollen from crying. The moment she saw me, she burst into tears.

Lynn said, "Mom, I was wrong. I truly realize I messed up."

Suddenly, she bowed her head right in front of me.

She said, "Mom, please come home. Everything is falling apart. Dad cannot cook. Charles only orders takeout.

"Lily has an upset stomach from all the greasy food. Linda and Charles fight constantly.

"Bub had a fever last night, and no one knew where the fever medicine was kept."

Lynn had always been timid, clinging to me from childhood.

When she ran a fever, she would let no one but me hold her. When thunder boomed at night, she would crawl into my bed for comfort.

On her wedding day, she hugged me so tight, sobbing until she could barely breathe, saying I was the hardest person to leave behind in her whole life.

Between my two kids, she had always been my favorite.

In that moment, I couldn't stay angry.

I helped Lynn up and asked softly, "Let me ask you something. If I take your dad to court for bigamy, will you stand with me, or with him?"