For thirty years, I lived as James Crawford’s wife. Yet, in all that time, we never made it official. Every time I brought up getting a marriage license, he’d brush it off with a frown, saying, “We’ve been together forever. Why worry about paperwork now?” Nothing I did seemed good enough. James complained that all I knew was cooking and cleaning, while our son looked down on me for not being as “cultured” as his friends’ moms. I thought he just didn’t want to deal with the hassle of getting married again at his age. That illusion shattered when I found their marriage certificate in the study’s safe—his and his first love’s. They’d been married for thirty years. My whole marriage to him was just because his dancer wife couldn’t have kids due to her dedication to her art. But James wanted the perfect family package, and I was the solution. His parents, even my own son I’d carried for nine months—they were all in on it. Everyone knew except me for thirty whole years. I sat there all afternoon, my mind replaying my entire life. I’d given up my promising research career. Poured my heart into being the perfect wife, raised our son, and wrecked my body with pregnancy complications and postpartum issues. In the end, I couldn’t even call myself his legal wife. But before I became just another housewife, I was a researcher for classified government projects. So, I did what any trained professional would do. I signed the research institute’s Level A confidentiality agreement, left behind a fake death certificate, and walked away from that sham of a family. The rest of my life belonged to my country now. ***** “I’ll sign your agreement,” I told them, my voice steady. “If you are willing to hire me, I want to serve our country again despite my age. Let me make a real difference.” The researcher on the other end of the line couldn’t contain their excitement. “Mind? Are you kidding? Having you on board would be incredible!” After submitting my application online, I finally hung up. Then, I just sat there, staring at the marriage certificate in my hands. My fingers trembled as I held it, the pain in my chest so sharp I could barely breathe. This was the marriage certificate of my husband, James, and his first love, Lily William. Several vacation photos fell out. The pictures told their whole love story, from their youth to their silver-haired days, capturing moments of love across countless destinations. At the bottom was a yellowed photo with a note scrawled on the back: [Trip to the mountain peak with my wife, Lily. James & Lily, July 1987.] My throat tightened as tears threatened to fall. My heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice grip. That was the same year James and I had decided to build a life together. I met James during our time working in the countryside. Back then, I knew about his first love, but he promised me over and over that he’d treat me right. “That’s all in the past,” he told me. “Emma Chase, you’re the one I want to grow old with.” He was so refined, a medical professor at Altheria University. In those days, life moved at a different pace. When people loved someone, it was usually for keeps. I never complained when he didn’t throw us a wedding reception or when he’d suddenly announced business trips right when we were supposed to get our marriage certificate. But I never imagined he’d already gotten married to Lily. That was why he couldn’t marry me legally. While I was stuck in the kitchen day after day, they were traveling across the country together, seeing all its wonders. From twenty to fifty, he kept this secret from me for thirty years. Suddenly, the door creaked open. It was Ryan Crawford, my son with James, coming home with his wife, Maya Crawford. As I looked at the child I carried for nine months and raised with all my heart, my eyes instantly welled up with tears. “Ryan,” I called out. Ryan froze when he saw me standing there, his eyes landing on the marriage certificate in my hands. “Mom, why do you have Dad and Lily’s marriage certificate?” Now, it was my turn to freeze. “What did you say?” Ryan’s tone stayed casual like it was nothing. “Dad locked it away because he was worried you’d make a scene. How’d you get it open? Come on, don’t mess it up, or Dad’s gonna be mad.” Listening to his impatient warning, I suddenly realized how much of a stranger my own son had become—this child I’d carried for ten months. Even Maya seemed completely unfazed like none of this was news to her. So, everyone except me knew James had already married Lily?
Ryan kept pushing, “Dad’s working the night shift today. You should hurry and bring him dinner. You know how serious he is about his health. Don’t want him getting stomach problems.” My back ached with every movement. No one knew I’d hit menopause just as I turned fifty. I got up slowly and carefully, grabbing the lunch box as I headed for the door. Thirty years of habit didn’t break easily. Just before the door closed, I heard my son and Maya complaining again. “Can’t do anything right. If I was Lily and Dad’s real kid, I’d be doing way better in life.” The words cut through my numbness from years of domestic drudgery, piercing my heart. But it was fine. Soon enough, I wouldn’t be around to bother him anymore. I headed to James’ office. The usual ten-minute walk took me thirty minutes this time. The moment I walked in, James started complaining, “What took you so long? Getting slow in your old age?” I looked up at him. He stood there, tall and well-built, with his gold-rimmed glasses. The years had only made him look more distinguished and refined. Meanwhile, I’d never gotten my figure back after having the baby. My clothes always carried that lingering smell of cooking oil that just wouldn’t go away. This time, I didn’t apologize like I usually would. Instead, I pulled out that yellowed marriage certificate and placed it in front of him. “Got anything to say about this?” James paused, putting down his newspaper. “A marriage certificate? What about it?” His casual tone left me speechless. For a moment, I realized just how pointless these years had been. “James, after lying to me all these years, don’t you feel even a little guilty? Don’t you think I deserve an explanation?” I couldn’t keep my voice from breaking. James’ expression softened as he took off his glasses and rubbed his temples. “We’ve spent most of our lives together anyway. A marriage certificate doesn’t really matter at this point. Once things slow down at work, I’ll take you somewhere nice, just the two of us.” I lowered my head to hide the pain in my eyes. Every year, I’d brought up the idea of taking a road trip together, but James always had an excuse—work was too busy, or something came up with the kids. Now, he was finally suggesting it himself, but it was too late. I would be gone soon. “Make sure you eat properly,” I said, dodging his suggestion. James froze, frowning at me suspiciously. I busied myself collecting his half-eaten lunch containers, slowly making my way out of his office. When I got home, Ryan and Maya were out for dinner, giving me some quiet time to myself. After washing the containers, I started packing my suitcase. But then it hit me—after thirty-five years, everything I owned couldn’t even fill one small suitcase. A wave of emptiness washed over me, and my nose started stinging with tears. I roughly wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and hauled the locked suitcase into the bedroom, my back aching with the effort. The next morning at five, I found myself preparing breakfast for everyone, like always. Sometimes, I wondered if being tired my whole life had just become a habit. Besides that, I made sure to clean up the kitchen and organize everything that needed storing. I even washed and ironed all the winter clothes. I hoped they’d find some use for all of this after I was gone. The sun was high in the sky when I heard the front door open. James was back, with Lily looking stunning by his side. When he saw the breakfast I’d laid out, he casually announced, like it was the most natural thing in the world, “Lily’s going to live with us from now on. This way, someone can look after her, and I won’t have to worry all the time.”
I looked over at Lily. She was wearing an expensive-looking dress with a fur coat that made my simple clothes look downright shabby in comparison. Ryan took a bite of his sandwich, his face lighting up. “Dad, that’s a great idea. I’ve been thinking Lily should move in with us for ages.” Everyone instantly agreed without bothering to ask what I thought about it. My fingers twisted into my apron. “James, we should break…” The word “break up” just wouldn’t come out of my mouth. It felt too embarrassing to say outright. So I pressed my lips together and tried again. “I should leave.” The whole living room went dead silent. Ryan jumped straight to accusations, his voice dripping with irritation. “Mom, what’s your problem now? Aren’t you way too old for this divorce drama?” Maya stood up and tried to guide me to a seat. “Emma, you must be tired. Come on. Sit down and eat something. We can talk this out, right?” But James just sat there on the couch, lit up a cigarette, and looked at me with cold eyes. “Emma, I’ve been too nice to you. What, you think you’ll still live like a rich housewife after leaving me?” Each comment felt like a knife to my heart. Rich housewife? Really? All these years, I’d had it worse than a housekeeper. At least they got paid for their work. What did I get? There was no respect from my family, not even a shred of honesty. Lily wrinkled her brow and pretended to wipe away the tears that didn’t exist. “I guess I shouldn’t have come. Looks like I’m just causing you all to fight.” She made a show of getting ready to leave. James put out his cigarette and stood up, grabbing her hand. “Going where? When I say you can stay, you stay, no questions asked.” Ryan chimed in with a reassuring smile, “Yeah, Lily, make yourself at home. Let’s go out and grab something nice to eat today.” They looked so cozy together, chatting and laughing like a perfect little family. Meanwhile, there I was, separated from them by an invisible wall that might as well have been a mile wide. They left in high spirits, their laughter trailing behind them. Just then, my phone pinged with a notification—my application to return to the research institute had been approved. A smile spread across my face. Just like that, all my worries seemed to melt away. Right on cue, someone from the institute called. After the usual congratulations, they got serious. “Ms. Chase, once you start researching here, you might not be able to go home much. Have you discussed this with your family?” I pressed my lips together, hesitating. They were still my family after all—thirty years of shared history, even if they barely cared about me. “I’ll get back to you tonight,” I said finally. After hanging up, I tried to stand, but a sudden spasm shot through my back, leaving me doubled over in pain. Years of running myself ragged without rest had caught up with me in the form of a herniated disc. I dragged myself out of the house after a long while, moving slowly. After picking up some medicated patches at the pharmacy, I was heading back to my apartment when I heard someone call out. “Hey, Emma!” I turned to see the head of OB-GYN from James’ hospital. “How are you feeling? Any better?” Back when I had Ryan, I hadn’t gotten proper postpartum care, which left me with all sorts of health issues. By the time I hit my late forties, I ended up with uterine prolapse and had to get a hysterectomy. During my hospital stay, James never once visited. The only calls I got from him were asking when I’d be discharged because no one was around to cook his meals or do his laundry. The memory still stung, but I managed a nod. “Much better. Thanks for asking.” I hurried home after our brief chat, my body aching with each step. After slapping on the patches, I crashed into bed. When I woke up, it was already dusk, and there was a commotion outside my room. As the door opened, I caught snippets about “wedding photos” and “honeymoon”. I froze. “Dad, you and Lily have been married for years,” Ryan was saying, sounding excited. “It’s about time you guys finally got those wedding photos done. Now you won’t have any regrets!” A massive wedding portrait dominated the living room. There was James in a black suit and Lily in a wedding dress, both beaming with joy. I stared at it, feeling the tears well up in my eyes as my heart shattered all over again. “Mom, perfect timing. Help us get these photos up to the bedroom,” Ryan called out to me. I stood frozen in place. For years, I’d dreamed of taking wedding photos with James, trying to make up for what we missed when we were young. But every time I brought it up, he’d brush it off like I was being ridiculous. It turned out I was just living in a fantasy world. James stubbed out his cigarette and jerked his chin toward the table. “There’s takeout and health supplements for you there. Don’t say nobody in this family cares about you.” He poked at the medicine bags on the coffee table with obvious disgust. “All you do is waste money. If you can’t earn any, at least learn to save some. How are you gonna help with the grandkids at this rate?” I felt pathetic. The bank notifications were still sitting in my phone, undeleted. All their expenses today—the wedding photos, meals, and entertainment—came from my retirement benefits. No one had ever bothered to ask where I got the money from. They just assumed I’d pocketed the living expenses James provided. The wedding photo hung above their bed in the master bedroom, both of them beaming with joy. Their happiness felt like a mockery of my misery, a cruel reminder that I was destined to be their servant forever. In the living room, they were still chatting about vacation plans, deliberately leaving me out of the conversation. I was done holding onto false hopes. So I opened the text from the research institute and replied: [No need to tell them. I’ll report in soon.] I quietly went to my room and started packing my belongings into a woven bag. The noise caught their attention. Ryan’s lips curled in annoyance as he looked at me. “Mom, aren’t you tired of acting like the victim all the time? You’re making it seem like we’re abusing you or something.” I ignored him and kept packing. Suddenly, Ryan snatched the bag and hurled it against the wall, scattering clothes all over the floor. “Can’t you read the room?” he shouted. “Why are you trying to butt in on our vacation? Haven’t you caused enough drama already?” The living room went dead silent. I stared at Ryan through a haze, tears blurring my vision. I’d raised him and devoted decades of my life to him without a moment’s rest. And this was what I got in return—a son I’d have been better off never having. James cleared his throat and pulled out his phone. “Whatever. I’ll get you a ticket. You can head out early and meet us at the airport.” He made a show of booking me a train ticket to Emerald Island. My whole body went rigid. There was no way James didn’t know what a nightmare that journey would be—the train ride, then having to take a ferry across the water. They’d be flying first class while sticking me with a thirty-six-hour train ride. His message was crystal clear—he wanted me to be their free vacation nanny. A wave of bitterness and hurt washed over me. I snatched the phone and smashed it against the floor. “James, how much longer are you going to play me for a fool? We were never really married. I don’t owe you or your family anything.” I spun around and pointed at Ryan, fury burning in my chest. “And you. Did I carry you for nine months just to hear you call someone else Mom? You keep saying I’m obsessed with that marriage certificate, but you don’t get it. Without it, you’re nothing but an illegitimate child.” Ryan’s face dropped as the words hit him, his mind struggling to process what he’d just heard. All the emotions I’d been bottling up finally exploded. At that moment, I just needed to get everything off my chest. But before I could say another word, a hand cracked across my face. The force sent me sprawling to the ground. I slowly turned my head to look up. James loomed over me, breathing hard, his face dark with rage. “If you want to lose it, get the hell out of here. You know you’re nothing but an outsider without that marriage certificate, so just go. You’ve got no right to judge my wife and son.” I stared at him, unblinking. Our eyes locked, and there was nothing left but pure hatred between us. “Oh dear,” Lily chirped, rushing forward to guide James back to his seat. “James, calm down. Emma’s just upset. It’s normal for her to be a little emotional.” She turned to me with a condescending look on her face. “Emma, I hate to say this, but why are you making such a huge deal over a marriage certificate? It’s just a piece of paper. “You don’t need to worry about me stealing James away. We’ve lived most of our lives already—we can still have a good life without all this drama.” She patted my shoulder as she spoke. That was when I noticed the diamond bracelet on her wrist. My heart stopped. It was the expensive piece of jewelry I’d bought for Maya when Ryan got married. I’d spent every penny of my savings on it. Maya had always been stingy, never giving away her things easily. Yet here it was, wrapped around Lily’s wrist. If that wasn’t proof that Maya and Ryan had accepted Lily, I didn’t know what was. I looked up at Maya, but she quickly averted her eyes when our gazes met. I let out a bitter laugh and struggled to get up. Everyone just stood there, watching me coldly. God, I felt pathetic. It took until the end of my life to realize that everything I’d done for them—all those years of sacrifice—had gotten me absolutely nothing in return. I guess this was karma. And honestly, I probably deserved it. It was time I lived for myself. I turned around and walked straight out the door, not even bothering to grab my luggage. Behind me, James’ irritated voice rang out. “Hurry up and pack. Change the tickets to tonight. I’m sick of dealing with all this drama at home.” I didn’t break my stride. Once I got outside the complex, I immediately dialed the research institute. “Hello, I’ll be coming to the institute tonight.” Thirty minutes later, I was in a military vehicle, passing right by James’ car and going the other way.
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