He Faked Our Marriage for a Green Card, I Took Everything Back

Lester's car pulled up beside me before I'd gotten very far.

He rolled down the window and said, "I knew you were upset. Fine, you don't have to apologize. But honestly, getting jealous over a single mother and her kid? Come on."

"I came all the way out here to pick you up. Get in."

I didn't bother responding. I walked straight to the passenger side and pulled open the door.

Jill was sitting there.

She raised an eyebrow and gave me an apologetic look. "Sorry, Linda. I'm not feeling great today, so I took the front seat. You don't mind sitting in the back, do you?"

Lester's eyes darted to me, his lips parting as if ready to jump to Jill's defense.

On any other day, I would have frowned and insisted. I would have argued my way back into the passenger seat, the seat that belonged to the woman of the house.

But today, I said nothing and climbed into the back.

The visa center was over ten miles from downtown. Cabs were nearly impossible to flag down out here. If he wanted to come pick me up, fine. I'd treat him like a free ride.

Lester looked surprised. His lips moved, and he turned his head to say something to me.

Jill cut in before he could. "Lester, the car behind us is honking. Let's go."

I closed my eyes. I didn't know how long we drove before the car came to a stop.

When I opened them, we were parked outside a Michelin-starred restaurant.

I frowned. Lester smiled and said, "Jill knows you're upset about the green card. She wanted to treat you to dinner. Her way of making it up to you."

"No thanks," I said flatly. "I want to go home."

But Lester just laughed and pulled me out of the car.

"Come on, be good. Jill and I will explain the whole marriage certificate thing over dinner."

I sat down with a blank expression and spent the entire evening watching the three of them play happy family.

One moment, Jill was cooing as she slid her steak over to Lester, asking him to cut it for her. The next, Henry was throwing a fit, demanding Lester feed him.

My patience ran out. "If you have something to say, say it."

Lester took his time. "Hold on. Let me order some wine first."

He'd barely finished ordering when Henry knocked over the bottle of red wine.

Jill let out a gasp.

Lester turned to me quickly. "Babe, let me take Henry to the restroom to clean up. Wait here for me."

Jill shot me a smug look, then grabbed Lester's arm and led them both away.

I waited for a full hour. Not one of them came back.

Instead, the restaurant manager appeared, all polite professionalism. "Ma'am, we're closing up for the night. I'll need you to settle the bill. The total comes to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

I froze.

A second later, my phone buzzed with a message from Lester.

"You just had to make things difficult for Jill and the kid. You still won't apologize. It's because I've spoiled you rotten."

"I've frozen your card. You're in a foreign country with no money to pay. Let's see if you're ready to back down and apologize."

The manager watched me staring at my phone in silence and raised his voice. "Ma'am! The bill, please!"

Whispers rippled through the remaining diners, punctuated by quiet laughter.

"Can't afford to eat here, so why bother coming? Embarrassing her whole country."

"People like that should just go back where they came from..."

Countless mocking stares landed on me, each one stinging like a slap across the face.

My phone kept buzzing.

"Linda, apologize to Jill. Promise you'll never bring this up again. Otherwise, you can sit there until they call the cops on you."

I read his message, my expression unchanged.

Then I looked up and spoke in flawless English: