My husband's brother dies before my husband and I marry. My mother-in-law has never liked me, and my husband is a mommy's boy. He listens to her when she forces him to remain in mourning for his brother—within the next three years, we can only register our marriage but not have a wedding.

To help his widowed sister-in-law past these difficult times, my husband runs over to her place every few days, leaving me alone at home.

Anyone who isn't in the know would think I'm the widow!

My scheming sister-in-law even tells her child to address my husband as their father instead of uncle.

I sneer. "How shameless of you to want your brother-in-law to care for two families at once. Thank goodness the child in my womb doesn't have such a disgusting father."

The food on the table had gone cold, so I heated it up again.

Then, I just sat silently on the couch with my eyes open from 6:00 pm until midnight.

Yesterday, Troy Hoffman had promised he would come home to celebrate my birthday.

Maybe it had just been too long since we had had any time to ourselves, so I got all excited the next day. I rushed off to the grocery store early in the morning, then came back and cooked up a feast.

But he didn't come back. He didn't even call or send a message to explain.

At 8:00 pm, I tried to reach him, only to hear that his phone was powered off.

It was a quarter past twelve when Troy finally walked through the doors, carrying the chill of the night with him. His fingers were ice-cold.

He handed me a bouquet of roses and looked at me apologetically. "Happy birthday, honey."

Who knew when the flowers had been bought—the edges were already curled and wilted.

I didn't take them. "My birthday's over."

Troy took off his coat by the door. "It's okay. I'll make it up to you."

I reminded him, "It's not your place to say, 'it's okay.' That should come from the person who got stood up, not the one who broke his promise."

He walked over and bent down to hug me, his tone gentle as he said, "Come on, honey, don't be mad. I was wrong, okay? It was just really busy today."

He then glanced at the table and said in an exaggerated tone, "Wow, look at all this delicious food. You're amazing, honey!"

"Gary said you weren't at the office today. So tell me, what exactly kept you so busy? You didn't even call me once and just left me waiting at home all day."

Troy stiffened slightly. "I—"

"You can't say it? Then I'll say it for you. Let me guess—something happened over at Stacy's place again, right?

"The little one couldn't sleep because of nightmares? Or maybe he got hurt and every doctor in the world dropped dead, so Stacy had to call you? I've heard all those excuses a million times."

Troy turned around, looking exhausted. "Honey, no matter what, she's still my sister-in-law."

I let out a cold laugh. "Oh, I know she's your sister-in-law. But does she know? Or more accurately—do you know?"

The anger that had been simmering after being left alone all day surged up at once, and my words grew sharper, more cutting.

"You keep running off to a widow's place every few days—maybe you don't find that shameless, but I do!"

"Diane! Have you lost your mind?" Troy snapped, furious. "There's nothing going on between me and Stacy! I've never done anything to betray you."

I looked at him quietly, finding it laughable. The all powerful Troy Hoffman, decisive and commanding at work, always lost control of his emotions the moment that woman was mentioned.

He seemed to realize he had overreacted and made an effort to calm down.

"Jude suddenly had a fever today. Stacy panicked and didn't know what to do, and there's no man in that house. So she called me. What was I supposed to do—turn her down?"

Funny just how just this afternoon, Stacy Weaver had posted a video of Jude Hoffman having the time of his life in an amusement park. That fever had come at a perfect timing.

Stacy always managed to pull Troy away just when I needed him most.

Ever since Jerry Hoffman died, Troy had become a regular presence around Stacy. Photos of them together showed up again and again on her social media.

Compared to her, I seemed more like a widow.

When something broke at home, I called a repairman. When I got sick, I had to call for an ambulance myself. When I got bullied by others, I had to handle it alone.

And Troy always said, "Diane, your situation is different from Stacy's."

I really wanted to ask—how exactly was my situation different from hers.

The Hoffman family was rich, and Jim Hoffman—their dad—made the call to leave most of Jerry's estate and compensation to Stacy.

Stacy had a nanny, a housekeeper, and a butler—she didn't have to lift a finger at all. As long as she stayed away from gambling, that money would last her several lifetimes.

A young girl adopted from the orphanage—now she had struck it rich and lost a husband. Most people couldn't even dream of getting that lucky.

So I didn't understand why, in everyone's eyes, she was somehow the most pitiful one.

I was exhausted to see her appearing everywhere in my life, yet I couldn't even accuse her of being a mistress who wrecked someone's marriage.

I heard myself saying, "I want a divorce."

Troy's eyes widened in anger. "You want a divorce over something so small?"

I nodded nonchalantly. "Think whatever you want."

Over something so small? Sure.

While he spent every day and night with Stacy, I kept telling myself that it was only right for him to do that. We were family, after all. And she had just lost her husband, so it was understandable she needed someone there for her.

But the truth was, I couldn't stand sharing my husband with another woman. Even if she was my sister-in-law on paper.

I took the divorce agreement out of the drawer. I had prepared it a long time ago, but I kept waiting—waiting for things to get better. Yet, all I got in return was his escalating disregard.

"Troy, once we're divorced, you'll finally be free to take care of her openly and without guilt."

In that instant, Troy lost it.

He swept the roses off the table and pointed at me, his expression cold. "When did you become like this? I'll say it one more time—there's nothing going on between me and her. So stop dragging her name through the mud!

"Take some time to cool off. I'm not getting divorced, and my parents would never agree to it either."

He quickly put his coat back on and slammed the door on his way out.

I glanced at the clock—13 minutes.

After a fight, he could've chosen any room in the house. But his instinct was to walk out the door. I didn't even have to guess where he went.

Stacy called to apologize, but her tone was light, almost smug.

"Diane, Troy's at my place. I heard you two had another fight? Can't you two just talk things through? If Troy's treating you badly, just tell me—I'll help you teach him a lesson."

I laughed in exasperation, "You'll help me? Oh, so he listens to you that much now? Do you really have no idea why we're even fighting?

"Ask Troy—what kind of husband runs off to his widowed sister-in-law in the middle of the night after a fight? Stacy, do you even know what the word 'self-respect' means?"

Stacy choked for a second, and before I could hang up, I heard her crying through the phone. "Fine. I'll just die! Is that what you want?"

"You're bullying my mommy. I hate you!" Jude's voice rang out in the background, loud and clear. He didn't sound sick in the slightest.

Troy took the phone and said angrily, "You want to divorce? Fine! Just don't regret it."

Then he hung up.

I sat there listening to the dial tone for a while, then stood up and went to pack. But I quickly realized there were traces of me everywhere in this house.

The flowers on the windowsill were arranged by me. The curtains and carpet were my choice. And even the scent in the bathroom was one I specially picked out.

Troy always said to me, "You're the best, honey. With you around, I don't have to worry about a thing."

The result was that this home seemed to carry only traces of my life, and the only person he ever truly cared about was Stacy.

The thought that she might one day move in, live in my house, and sleep in my bed made me sick to my stomach.

I took what I could, but I made sure the house was mine in the divorce agreement. I packed a few changes of clothes and drove through the night to my parents' home.

I didn't wake my parents. I just went to my room quietly and let myself fall into a deep sleep.

…

The next morning, Troy was sitting in the living room. He looked worn out, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

I ignored him and sat at the dining table, asking the maid Wanda Kline to make me breakfast.

After Dad finished eating, he said to me, "Diane, when you're done eating, go back home."

"I'm not going back. I'm getting a divorce," I said.

Dad's face darkened immediately. "Don't be ridiculous. You were the one who insisted on marrying him, and now you're the one demanding a divorce? Is this how you treat marriage? Like it's some kind of joke?"

"Honey, this is all my fault. I didn't mean what I said yesterday—I was just upset," Troy said sincerely. "If you don't want me to stay in contact with Stacy, then I won't. Okay?"

I kept my head down, focused on eating, not looking at him. "You make it sound like I'm some jealous woman tearing apart star-crossed lovers."

He raised his hand and swore, "I'll love you and only you for the rest of my life! If I ever stray, may I get hit by a ca—"

A sudden phone call cut his vow short. After answering, he looked at me with hesitation. "My dad wants us to go to his place."

"Let me guess—did Stacy go there and tattle?"

He didn't respond.

I dabbed the corner of my mouth with a napkin. "Let's go."

I had been waiting for this day for a long time.

The moment we stepped through the door, a vase smashed at my feet. My cheek stung. I reached up and touched it—my fingertips were tainted red with blood.

Troy pulled me into his arms, distressed. "Mom, what are you doing? You hurt Diane!"

Stacy sat on the sofa holding Jude, her shoulders trembling with suppressed sobs.

Sharon Mullen, my mother-in-law, was so furious her chest was heaving. She jabbed at me and snapped at Troy, "I told you not to marry her, but you wouldn't listen. Now look! Your brother's gone and she's bullying Stacy! It's not easy for Stacy to raise Jude all by herself, you know!

"She already has depression to begin with, and just when she was starting to move on from your brother's death, this happens. Diane just can't stand to see us happy, can she?"

Jim just sat silently on the side, looking at me with a face full of disappointment.

Troy quickly explained, "It's not like that. Diane has always helped Stacy."

I pulled him back and asked Sharon emphatically, "Sharon, just tell me—what exactly makes Stacy's life so hard? Is the family starving her? Is she lacking anything?

"I, too, was devastated when Jerry died. You forced Troy to mourn for him and refused to let us have a wedding. I put up with all of that.

"Then when Jude started kindergarten, he said the other kids teased him for not having a dad. So Troy pretended to be his dad—picking him up and dropping him off every day, having him call him 'Dad.' Again, I bit my tongue and let it slide.

"Whenever I bought anything, I'd always buy extra to send to Stacy. Ask yourself honestly, Sharon, haven't I done enough as her sister-in-law? I've been married to Troy for three years, but he's spent more time at her house than at his own."

I gave a self-deprecating smile. "Sometimes, I can't even tell whose husband died."

Sharon screamed, "You witch! How dare you curse my son?"

She lunged at me, trying to hit me, but Troy held her back. "Mom! Don't be like her. She's just saying all this because she's upset with me," he pleaded.

But Sharon didn't find herself in the wrong. She stood with hands on her hips and snapped, "Jerry's gone, and Jude needs someone to look after him! So what's wrong with Troy helping out?"

Stacy stood up timidly, eyes brimming with tears. "Sharon, Troy, please don't fight because of me. If Diane doesn't like me, I'll leave. I won't get in anyone's way. It's all my fault.

"I was too used to being taken care of by Jerry. Now that he's gone, I really don't know how to live anymore. If it weren't for Jude, I might've gone to be with Jerry already."

Sharon stroked her head, her expression soft and warm—completely unlike the way she looked at me.

"It's all my fault for not seeing how malicious she is sooner, and now you've suffered because of it. I'll take care of it right now—I'll make sure they get divorced!"

Troy panicked. "Mom, I'm not getting a divorce!"

I asked coldly, "So, to make sure Stacy has it easy, you pushed for a divorce between me and Troy? Really playing the role of the perfect, self-sacrificing mother and son, huh?"