After My Husband Let His Mistress Replace Me

Tatum moved in on a Tuesday.

I was in the kitchen when the moving truck arrived. I heard the voices in the driveway. Harrison's low tone. A woman's laugh. Light and easy, like she was arriving at a vacation home.

I poured Haisley a glass of milk and set it on the table.

"Mommy, who's here?" she asked.

"A guest," I said.

I did not go to the window. I did not need to see.

By evening, Tatum and her daughter Cecelia were installed in the guest wing. The rooms were large and bright, with windows that overlooked the garden. I knew because I had stayed in those rooms once, years ago, when Harrison and I were first married and the master bedroom was being repainted.

That night, I packed.

I folded Haisley's clothes into a small suitcase. I took my own things from the dresser. Two pairs of jeans. Three shirts. Underwear. The vitamin bottle. I left everything else.

The photographs stayed on the nightstand. The jewelry box stayed on the vanity. The robe Harrison had given me for Christmas stayed hanging in the closet.

I picked up Haisley, still half-asleep, and carried her down the back hallway to the servant's quarters.

The room was small. A narrow bed. A single window. A bathroom the size of a closet. It smelled like dust and old wood. I set Haisley down on the bed and tucked the blanket around her.

She did not wake up.

I sat on the edge of the mattress and looked at the walls. Plain white. No pictures. No marks. It looked like a room no one had lived in for a very long time.

I lay down next to Haisley and closed my eyes.

The pain in my stomach was worse tonight. It felt like something inside me was tearing. I reached into my pocket and took out the vitamin bottle. I swallowed two morphine tablets dry.

I waited for the pain to dull.

It took longer than usual.

Harrison found out the next morning.

I heard his footsteps in the hallway. Fast. Angry. He shoved the door open without knocking.

"What the hell is this?" he said.

I was sitting on the bed, brushing Haisley's hair. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"We're staying here now," I said.

"Like hell you are."

"It's more honest this way."

Harrison stared at me. His jaw was tight. His hands were clenched.

"Elena, get your things and come back upstairs."

"No."

"You're my wife."

"I'm Haisley's mother," I said. "That's all I need to be."

He took a step forward. I did not move. Haisley's hand found mine.

"You're doing this to punish me," he said.

"I'm doing this because it's easier," I said. "For everyone."

His face changed. Something shifted behind his eyes. Hurt, maybe. Or rage. I could not tell anymore.

He turned and walked out.

The door slammed so hard the frame shook.

That night, I heard the crashes.

I was in the servant's bathroom, taking my pills, when the sound started. Glass breaking. Wood splintering. It came from the main house, muffled by distance but unmistakable.

I turned off the tap and listened.

It went on for a long time.

When it stopped, the house was silent again.

I went back to the room and lay down next to Haisley. She was still asleep. I watched her breathe and did not think about what Harrison was destroying.

I already knew.

Dinner the next evening was different.

I walked into the dining room with Haisley and found the table rearranged. Delaney sat at the head. Harrison sat to her right. Tatum sat beside him. Cecelia sat next to Tatum, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Jaxon sat across from them.

My seat was at the far end. Alone. A full table length away from everyone else.

I sat down. Haisley climbed into the chair beside me.

No one said anything.

The staff brought out the first course. Soup. I picked up my spoon and ate.

Delaney spoke halfway through the meal.

"Cecelia, dear," she said, smiling at Tatum's daughter. "Tell us about your dance recital."

Cecelia smiled. She had perfect teeth. Perfect posture. She talked about ballet and costumes and how her teacher said she was the best in the class.

Delaney nodded and smiled. "Real mothers make such a difference," she said. "Don't they?"

She did not look at me. She did not need to.

Haisley's hand found mine under the table. I squeezed it gently.

I kept eating.

Jaxon glanced at me once. Just once. His face was blank. He looked away.

After dinner, I took Haisley back to the servant's quarters. I gave her a bath in the tiny tub. I read her the book about the rabbit who builds a house. She fell asleep before I finished.

I sat on the floor with my back against the bed and took out the vitamin bottle.

My hands were shaking.

I swallowed three tablets this time.

The pain was getting worse. It was always worse at night.

I turned off the light and sat in the dark.

I thought about the photographs Harrison had smashed. I thought about the seat at the end of the table. I thought about Delaney's voice, so calm and so cruel.

I thought about how much longer I had to last.

Two weeks, Kyla had said.

I could last two weeks.

I had to.