Chapter 2

By the time I left the notary office, it was already 4:30 PM. I paused for a second on the curb, not really sure what I was doing, then finally told the taxi driver, "Sunset Buffet, please."

Honestly, I had no idea why I was heading there. Maybe I needed to see it with my own eyes, or maybe I was looking for a reason to give up for good.

I didn't go inside. When I got there, it was almost 5:30 PM, still way before their seven o'clock reservation. I found a spot around the corner in the hallway, where I could watch everything inside without anyone noticing me.

Nearly an hour went by as I stood there, waiting.

At 6:20, they finally showed up. Robert was wearing the white shirt I'd washed and ironed for him last month.

Layla had on a new dress I'd never seen before. Michael was carrying a cake box, and Lisa trailed behind in a bright red coat that I could spot from a mile away.

They sat down and started ordering, even though it was a buffet. Michael was the first to go, coming back with two plates piled high with seafood.

Robert followed, bringing back a plate of meat. Layla was busy taking pictures, snapping at least five shots of the cake before posting them on her social media.

I pulled out my phone to check.

Layla posted: [Celebrating Dad's birthday! Dad's the coolest!] The post showed Robert's smiling face and the cake, which had "Happy Birthday, Dad" written on it.

There was no mention of me, not a single photo of me.

I put my phone away, but I didn't leave. I wanted to hear what they were saying.

Michael stood up with his glass, his voice so loud that I could hear him through the glass. "Robert, here's to you. You're the real backbone of this family.

"Not like someone who sits around at home all day, spending your money and telling everyone what to do, acting like she's the lady of the house!"

Layla chuckled. "Keep it down."

"Why? She's not even here," Michael said, taking a sip. "Honestly, I can't stand Linda. Last time I wanted to get a new car, she refused to lend me the money, as if it actually belonged to her. Robert didn't even say a word. What gives her the right?"

Robert held his glass, didn't say a word in my defense, and mumbled, "That's how she is."

Lisa jumped in, her voice sharp and clear. "Robert, you spoil her way too much. She's been married into our family for years, only gave you one daughter, and she still has the nerve to control the money?

"You should've taken back control of the finances a long time ago."

I gripped the strap of my bag so tightly that my knuckles turned white.

Michael chimed in again, "Robert, I heard Linda's pension is higher than yours. Is that true?"

Robert snorted, "Come on, it's not that much higher. She was a master teacher when she retired, so she gets a bit more than regular teachers. But all that money goes into the family pot anyway. Her money is basically mine."

"Yeah, that's true," Michael laughed. "But Linda is so stingy. Last time Layla wanted to buy a bag that cost over 600 dollars, she made a big fuss about it. In the end, you were the one who paid, right?"

Robert didn't deny it. He took a sip of his drink.

Then I heard Layla speak.

Her voice wasn't loud, but every word was crystal clear.

"Sometimes I wish Mom had never given birth to me. She's always complaining about Dad not caring about the family, about me not studying hard enough, and about everything. It's like her whole life is about making everyone else miserable," Layla said.

There was a brief silence.

Lisa laughed, "Careful, Layla, don't let your mom hear you say that."

"Let her hear it," Layla replied, her tone so light it was like she was commenting on the weather. "It's not like I'm lying. What else can she do besides managing the money? She doesn't even have a decent job.

"If it weren't for Dad, she wouldn't even be living in a place like this."

Robert picked up a piece of food, chewed it, and said, "Alright, that's enough. Let's eat."

Not a single person said, "Your mom isn't that bad." Not a single person said, "It's her birthday today."

I stood in the hallway, watching through the glass wall where my husband, my daughter, my son-in-law, and my sister-in-law were dining. They were all there, laughing, eating, drinking, celebrating Robert's birthday.

And as for my birthday? Not a single person remembered.

I stood there for about two minutes. Then I turned and walked away.

When I reached the elevator, I stopped, took out my phone, opened my notes, and typed: [Every word they said is burned into my memory.]

Then I deleted it.

I didn't need a reminder. Those words were carved into me.

*****

By the time I got home, it was already dark. I didn't bother turning on the lights.

I sat on the couch and spread out all the paperwork I'd handled today on the coffee table: house deeds, savings certificates, investment contracts, and the notarized ownership statement.

I stared at them, and memories started flooding in. Twenty years ago, right after we got married, Robert told me to handle the money, and I believed him. 28 years ago, when Layla was born, Robert's mother turned around and left when she heard it was a girl.

Robert chased after her and didn't return that night. Ten years ago, when I discovered Robert was cheating, the other woman texted me that night: [Robert says he can't stand living with you anymore. Why don't you let him go?]

I didn't let him go. But I never forgave him, either.

I chose another way. I moved everything I could into my own name. It wasn't about divorce. It was about making sure I could say no whenever I needed to.

Today, I finally put that strength to use.

I picked up my phone and texted Layla: [Are you having dinner at Sunset Buffet?]

She replied instantly: [How did you know?]

I didn't reply.

Then I messaged Robert: [What day is it today?]

Two minutes later, he replied: [What do you mean?]

I didn't reply.