The Man I Married Died Five Years Ago

My husband said he had to work overtime on Memorial Day, so I went to visit my mother-in-law's grave alone.

When I arrived, I found a woman there with a small child, paying her respects at the very same headstone.

I asked who she was, and she answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world:

"My husband was too busy with work today, so I brought our son to visit his grandmother's grave."

I froze.

My mother-in-law only had one son. If this woman was her daughter-in-law, then who was I?

……

"Are you a relative of my husband's family? I don't think we've met before."

While I stood there in stunned silence, Iris Fox turned to me, her voice soft and curious.

Her tone was gentle, her smile polished and warm. She carried herself with an effortless grace.

The Impostor little boy beside her tilted his head, studying me with wide, curious eyes.

I looked at the two of them and couldn't help asking:

"Have you met many of his relatives?"

Iris blinked, clearly not expecting the question.

But she recovered quickly, smiling. "Oh, sure. Roy loves visiting family. Every holiday, he insists on dragging me along to see everyone."

"Sometimes I complain about how exhausting it is and try to get out of it."

"I guess this is what I get for slacking off. I can't even recognize a relative who's come to visit his mother's grave." She gave me an apologetic look, her expression warm and sincere.

But I stared at her, eyes wide with disbelief.

"You're saying Roy likes visiting relatives?"

Iris nodded. "Absolutely."

"Especially after Tommy was born. He got even more enthusiastic about it. He wanted to carry the baby around and introduce him to every single person in the family. He kept saying Tommy was the James family's legacy, and that every relative needed to know him."

That was impossible.

Roy James hated the small talk and forced pleasantries that came with family visits. He despised them.

We'd dated for five years and been married for six.

In all eleven of those years, he had only introduced me to his relatives once, on our wedding day.

Even during the holidays, whenever I suggested visiting family, he always said the same thing:

"Visiting relatives is exhausting. Everyone asks a million questions, and you'd be uncomfortable the whole time."

"We finally have some time off. I just want to stay home with you. I don't want to waste our time on meaningless obligations."

I'd always believed he was being considerate.

I'd even felt lucky that I didn't have to deal with his side of the family, all those in-laws I barely knew.

But now Iris was telling me that Roy's favorite thing to do was take her to visit those same relatives?

Those relatives had attended our wedding. Many of them still had my number saved in their phones.

If Roy was parading another woman and child around so openly, wasn't he afraid someone would expose him? That one of them would tell me he had a mistress and an illegitimate son?

I forced down the storm churning inside me and looked at the grave. It was immaculate, carefully tended, not a single weed in sight.

"Do you come here often?" I asked.

Iris smiled softly. "Every Memorial Day, my husband brings us here."

"He says it's the most important day for our family to be together with his mother. We usually stay the whole day."

Something cold settled in my chest.

No wonder Roy never let me come with him on Memorial Day. Not once, in all those years.

He always said my health was too fragile, that cemeteries had bad energy, that it might bring me misfortune.

I'd been touched by how protective he was. How thoughtful.

Now I realized he wasn't protecting me. He was protecting their family reunion from my intrusion.

While I stood there reeling, Iris's son suddenly pointed at the chrysanthemums in my hand, his small face scrunched in confusion.

"Ma'am, why did you bring chrysanthemums for my grandma?"

"My grandma hated chrysanthemums."

I looked down at the flowers in my hand, stunned.