I was working a night shift, fatigued but grateful, when I noticed my husband in the back car with another lady. I remained mute, already plotting his ruin. I previously thought I was fortunate to have Jason.

He entered my life when I was at my pinnacle: a solid career at a giant corporation, a two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, and a five-year-old kid, Jamie.

“And Jason…” He was attractive, gregarious, and momentarily homeless.

“It’s fine, we’ll manage,” I told my friend when he moved in.

“You barely know him!” she said.

“He welcomed my son as his own. “That is already more than I expected.”

I genuinely thought he was exceptional. I helped him acquire a job through my contacts. He immediately became “successful” with new clothes, a new vehicle, and, a year later, a proposal.

“Abby, you may resign from your job. Focus on Jamie. “I’ll provide for us,” he stated persuasively.

I believed him.

At first, life was really pleasant. However, after I lost my job, our family dynamics shifted drastically. Jamie was labeled as “a problem,” “too sensitive,” and “not how a real boy should be.”

And I seldom saw money from Jason. Jason’s payments were consistently labeled as “on the card,” “not processed yet,” and “just wait.” I remained mute.

However, I ultimately began working night shifts as a cab driver while Jason was “away on business.”

That night, I arrived home late, and Martha, our downstairs neighbor, was already waiting at the door in her pink robe.

“So, how was work, sweetheart?” She inquired, lightly touching Jamie’s hair.

He was already sleeping, cuddling her dog like a pillow.

“Better than nothing,” I said. “And you…” “How did it go?”

“Oh, with him—as with my own. Just give me a child, and my day becomes purposeful. I’ve never had grandchildren, so Jamie is my little gem.”

“You are our guardian angel, Martha.” I couldn’t do it without you.”

“And that Jason of yours…” she groaned. “Does he even know how hard this is for you?”

“He knows,” I claimed. “He’s just… busy with work.”

However, as it turned out, he was preoccupied with something else. This was a situation that would cause me to question every choice I’d ever made.

The schedule called for a regular shift. A typical call came in from a downtown restaurant. A man wearing a gray suit and a woman wearing shiny red lipstick entered the restaurant.

I looked at the mirror, and my chest clenched. It was Jason. He was with his mistress.

They snuggled into the rear seat, snug as a couple on their honeymoon. I drew my cowl further over my forehead and said nothing.

“Finally,” she muttered. “I thought you were going to come up with another ‘my son has a fever’ excuse.”

“Not tonight, Ashley.” “I missed you.”

They kissed. I battled the sickness that was building in my throat.

“So,” she explained, “my parents want to meet you.”

Jason stared at her, puzzled.

“They stated they’d give me a house if they discovered I was dating someone serious.” A fiancé.”

He gave a quick laugh.

“So we’re putting on a show now?” “They’re quite conservative. We won’t tell them about your wife—you’re going to divorce her soon, right?”

He leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“You are my favorite. You are incredibly intelligent and talented. I adore that about you.”

Her voice became smooth.

“I was thinking…” Two homes. I was considering buying one to live in and renting the other. “It could be perfect.”

Jason chuckled softly and pleasantly.

“Exactly. As soon as my wife receives the fortune, I’m leaving. There’s no reason to depart empty-handed. Her mother is really unwell; therefore, it will happen soon.”

I grabbed the wheel until my knuckles became white.

“All right,” she said enthusiastically. “I’ll plan a small get-together this weekend. The event will be a backyard BBQ. Just show up, smile, and utter a few kind things, and you’ll fit right in.”

“Saturday? Perfect. I will come up with something at home.

I almost choked. Saturday. It was our anniversary.

My husband had just agreed to meet another woman’s parents for a fictitious engagement on the same day we met 9 years ago.

He didn’t even recall.

I drove them to a little home with a porch. Not ours. His “business trips” would usually conclude there. Jason walked out without acknowledging me. The payment was made in cash. I never gave it a second thought.

“Thanks, buddy,” he said, immediately going for Ashley’s waist.

I remained behind the wheel. I saw them vanish behind the door.

Then I sat in silence until my breathing slowed. Then I softly told no one:

“I am sorry, Jason. But you just lost the game.”

On Tuesday, only a few days before our anniversary, I prepared dinner and lighted a candle. When Jason eventually entered the kitchen, I pretended everything was totally normal.

“Jason,” I asked, spooning stew into his bowl. “Do you remember what Saturday is?”

He hesitated for a second, calculating something and looking for a lifeline.

“Anniversary… Oh! Right. “The day we met, right?”

I grinned.

“Exactly. I gave you the watch you are still wearing nine years ago.

“Mmh, yeah… of course…”

I placed my spoon down.

“I hoped we might have a pleasant evening. I’ve already reserved a spot beside the lake. I’ve already made a reservation for eight people.”

He dropped his voice and shifted in his seat.

“Uhm… Listen, Saturday is a rough day. I had to fly for a large business conference far away.”

Then, as if recalling something significant, he remarked,

“But we’re not the kind of couple that needs dates to prove anything, right?”

I nodded and said nothing else. However, my mind had already assembled the puzzle. And everything came from what I’d heard in the backseat.

That Saturday, I did not accompany Jamie to Martha’s.

“Darling, we are going to a party,” I said, fastening his favorite shirt adorned with the green dinosaur.

He was beaming.

“Will there be cake?”

“Even better,” I winked. “Ice cream.”

I changed into a blue dress I hadn’t worn in years—the same one I wore on our first date. I brushed my hair and applied some mascara and lipstick. When I glanced in the mirror, I recognized someone I thought I had lost.

We got into the car and started driving.

“Where are we going, Mommy?”

“I want to meet some interesting people, darling.” But just don’t call anyone a liar out loud.

Ashley’s house was larger than I expected. The backyard was already buzzing with conversations. Music played. Somebody was grilling.

I rang the doorbell.

Ashley opened the door, smiling, until she noticed me.

Her eyes probed my face, uncertain, before flicking to Jamie beside me. Her smile wavered.

“Um…” Could I help you?”

“Your parents invited me,” I said gently. “By your parents.” We’re… family-oriented, you might say.”

She blinked. Hesitated. Then he stepped aside with a polite, forced laugh.

“I’ll go get them.”

She yelled out over her shoulder.

“Mom? Dad?” Your guest has arrived!”

The music outside remained playing, but the foyer became silent. Two well-dressed individuals arrived, appearing perplexed.

“Good afternoon,” I said, smiling. “I apologize for dropping by unexpectedly. I decided to meet the man who is dating your daughter, also known as my spouse.

Jason entered with a beer in his hand. When he spotted me, his face instantly drained of color, and his smile evaporated.

“Hi, sweetheart,” I responded, making eye contact with him. “Happy anniversary.” I brought you a gift.”

Jamie peered from behind my legs.

“Hello, Daddy!” Mommy said there would be ice cream.”

Ashley let out a shriek and stumbled backward, as if someone had smacked her. Her dad’s jaw dropped. Her mother’s fingers rushed to her chest.

“Excuse me?!” Her mother snapped. “What did that child just say?!”

“Jamie,” I said softly, “why don’t you go out back and buy as much ice cream as you want?” Today is a yes day.”

He ran to the dessert table, ecstatic. I turned back. I removed my wedding ring and stepped over to Jason.

Slap.

I didn’t strike him; I just put the ring into his startled hand. The sound was as loud as thunder.

“I stood by you when you were broke, jobless, and couch-surfing,” I added, my voice rising. “I’ve given you a house. I offered you my faith. “I gave you a son.”

“You have a son?” Ashley barked, her eyes wide. “You said she didn’t have kids!”

Jason opened his mouth—but nothing came out.

“What in God’s name is this, Jason?” Ashley’s father murmured.

“Wait… they’re married?!” Her mother sobbed.

“I still am,” I said. “But not for long.”

Ashley’s cheeks turned crimson.

“I heard them,” I told her parents, moving away from Jason. “He’s waiting for my mother to die so that he can have the flat. He intends to marry your daughter and live in one house while renting the other.

Gasps burst like fireworks.

Ashley’s mother sat down hard on the nearest chair. The father said something under his breath that I couldn’t quite understand.

Ashley let out a nervous breath.

“Oh, my god. You introduced a child to this, and…”

“You think I brought the child?” I cut in. “No, Ashley.” Jason drew both of us into this. And you allowed me into your house when you decided to steal something that wasn’t yours.”

I turned to her parents one final time.

“I heard you were giving your daughter a house. Just take care. Jason enjoys presents. And when he receives them, he typically expresses his gratitude.”

Then I pivoted on my heel.

“Come on, Jamie. These individuals have plenty on their plates. Let’s go grab some authentic ice cream.”

From behind me, voices clashed, “You son of a…”

“She’s telling the truth, isn’t she?!”

“Jason, you dragged us into this lie?!”

“ASHLEY, how could you not know?!”

“Daddy, wait…”

“You’re unbelievable!”

As Jamie and I approached the automobile, I heard glass crack behind us.

I did not flinch. For once, I did not glance back.

Ashley’s parents appeared three months later at her divorce court. They testified readily. They spoke candidly about the falsehoods. This pertains specifically to the home in question.

Shame has odd effects on individuals. However, in their situation, civility prevailed.

I was able to obtain everything with their assistance and some documentation from my side business as a driver. The court left Jason with only excuses.

I brought my mother to live with us. We sold her previous flat and purchased a nice, sunny, and quiet home near the shore.

New beginnings are akin to a clear, crisp, and honest surface. And I’d choose that life above everything Jason had offered me.

It turns out that tranquility is the ultimate luxury.