Chapter 5
I believed what William said, and deep down, I knew I had no say in the matter. In the end, I married him.
Over the past fifty years of our marriage, he'd been sneaking around, constantly running errands and going out of his way for Grace.
He always found ways to funnel his own money to her.
Back then, he abandoned Grace and married me to save his own skin.
But once the crisis passed, he regretted it and wished he could divorce me, but he couldn't.
In those years, divorce was too shameful.
At first, he kept everything under wraps, but later on, he stopped bothering to hide it.
He said to me, bold as brass, "Grace never got married and never had kids because of me."
He sounded as if it were all my fault.
All those years of memories were still so vivid, like they happened yesterday.
I watched Grace walk away and saw her raise her hand. I guessed she was wiping away tears.
I chuckled quietly, feeling it was so ironic.
The ladies nearby had no idea about the history between Grace and me.
They followed my gaze and enthusiastically started telling me about her.
One of them said, "Gracie's really lucky.
"I heard that when she was young, it was because of her health that she and her husband couldn't have kids.
"Now she's got all kinds of illnesses, with no children to take care of her, but her husband never left her.
"He spent all his savings on her treatment and said he'd take her home, but she can't bear to leave us old friends behind."
As soon as she finished talking, the "husband" she was talking about walked in from the far end of the courtyard.
It was William, and right behind him was Charles.
William was a retired teacher, and he still carried himself with that unmistakable scholarly air.
He was tall, and even in a plain gray coat, he still drew the eyes of all the ladies around.
Back when I was young, I used to find him captivating.
Now, though, looking at him only filled me with disgust.
I could've had a life full of possibilities, but instead, I drifted through the years with him.
It wasn't worth it.
Probably seeing Grace wiping away her tears, William quickened his steps, his brows furrowing.
In fifty years of marriage, he'd frowned at me more times than I could count.
But it was always because he was irritated or disgusted.
It was never because he cared about me.
I watched him hurry over.
Charles was quicker, grabbing Grace's arm to help her and handing her a tissue.
He said with concern, "Aunt Grace, if you're upset or struggling, let me know."
That was the son I carried for nine months and spent years raising.
He was always yelling at Evelyn and me, but when it came to Grace, he turned all gentle and considerate.
I watched him, Grace, and William.
The more I looked, the more it felt like I was watching a picture-perfect family—so warm and close.
Grace's hands were shaking as she dabbed at her tears with a tissue, her sobs coming in broken, choked bursts.
William stood nearby, probably keeping his distance for appearances' sake, but I could still see the pain in his eyes, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
Then, an awkward silence fell over the room.
After a long moment, one of the ladies muttered, "It stinks."
A yellow stain started to spread across Grace's light-colored pants.
She must've been crying so hard that she wet herself.
Charles was still holding Grace's arm, and for a split second, his face went stiff with awkwardness.
He fancied himself a true artist, and nothing disgusted him more than touching anything dirty. He always claimed it would taint his creative spirit.
Probably because he'd never dealt with anything like this before, his expression contorted.
He was so thrown off that he forgot to pull his hand back.
He turned to William in a panic and shouted, "Dad, come here!"
But William had always been the kind of man who prided himself on keeping up appearances.
The two of them exchanged awkward glances, both unsure what to do.
William quickly and awkwardly scanned the room, desperately hoping to convince himself that no one had noticed.
Then, out of nowhere, he caught sight of me.
For a split second, he was caught off guard.
His gaze was tangled with emotions, and I could see a hint of panic flash across his eyes.
He was so mortified, completely out of his depth.
He turned to me as he'd always done for decades, like I was his last resort.
With everyone's eyes on him, he stood there frozen for ages before calling out to me.
"E-Ellie, come help me," he stammered.
When Charles heard that, he glanced over, spotted me, and immediately let out a huge sigh of relief.
He yelled, "Mom, come here. Hurry!"