Saturday came. I dressed carefully, choosing the dress Frank hated least. I curled my hair, let Mia apply a dab of glitter to my eyes, then zipped up my heels and gathered the kids.
Frank watched, arms crossed.
“Nice. You’re really making an effort, Whitney. Keep it up for tonight.”
“That’s the plan.”
At the restaurant, guests mingled, laughter rising in waves. Frank greeted everyone like a politician, shaking hands, offering big smiles.
He shot me a look.
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He kept checking his phone, texting under the table. I watched, memorizing every move.
My mother-in-law gave me a long hug.
“Are you alright, dear? You look tired.”
“Just busy, Evelyn. You know how it is, juggling these kids.”
She squeezed my hand. “If you ever need anything…”
I nodded. “Thank you. Really.”
As the meal wound down, the servers brought out the cake, candles flickering. Frank’s friends clapped him on the back, coworkers raised their glasses.
“Just busy, Evelyn.”
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Presents began to pile up, a watch, a bottle of bourbon, a gag tie. The kids gave him their handmade gifts, and he smiled, but only for the crowd.
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