Mistress Steals My Dreams

The text message came three days after I'd lost the baby. Simple, direct, like she was inviting me to lunch with a friend.

*Hi Maggie, this is Aspen. I think it's time we talked. Café Luna on Fifth Street, 2 PM today. I'll be waiting. - A*

I stared at the message until the words blurred. She had my number. Of course she did. Jayson had probably given it to her months ago, along with everything else that used to be mine.

My hands trembled as I typed back: *I'll be there.*

Café Luna was one of those trendy spots with exposed brick walls and overpriced lattes. I arrived ten minutes early, choosing a corner table where I could see the entrance. My stomach churned with each passing minute, the same nausea that had plagued me during those brief weeks when I'd carried life inside me.

She walked in at exactly two o'clock, and I hated how beautiful she was. Aspen Moreno moved with the confidence of someone who'd never been rejected, never been second choice. Her dark hair cascaded in perfect waves over her shoulders, and her smile was radiant as she scanned the café. When her eyes found mine, that smile sharpened into something predatory.

"Maggie," she said, sliding into the chair across from me. "Thank you for coming. I wasn't sure you would."

"What do you want, Aspen?"

She ordered a cappuccino from the hovering waitress, taking her time with the decision like she had all day. I'd already been nursing the same untouched coffee for twenty minutes.

"I want to clear the air," she said finally, her voice honey-sweet. "I hate that there's all this tension between us when really, we should be friends."

"Friends?" The word came out sharper than I intended.

"Well, we do have so much in common." Her eyes sparkled with malice. "We both love the same man."

My fingers tightened around my coffee cup. "Jayson is my husband."

"Technically, yes." She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. "But I think we both know that's just a piece of paper at this point."

She swiped through her photos with deliberate slowness, finally turning the screen toward me. The image made my breath catch. Jayson and Aspen in bed, sheets tangled around them, his arm draped possessively across her bare shoulders. But it was the watch on his wrist that destroyed me completely – the vintage Omega I'd saved for months to buy him for our last anniversary.

"He never takes it off," she said softly, watching my face. "Says it reminds him of what really matters now."

I couldn't look away from the photo. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think past the roaring in my ears.

"Oh, that's not even the best one." She swiped again. This time it was the two of them on what looked like a private balcony, champagne glasses raised in a toast. Jayson's face was animated, alive in a way I hadn't seen in years. "This was taken at our new place. Well, my new place. Jayson's still figuring out the logistics of leaving you."

"Your new place?"

Aspen's smile widened. "The lakefront house on Crescent Bay. You know the one – three bedrooms, wrap-around porch, private dock. Jayson said you used to drive by it sometimes, dreaming about living there."

The world tilted. The lakefront house. My lakefront house. The one I'd pointed out to Jayson every time we drove past, the one where I'd imagined our children playing in the yard, where I'd pictured us growing old together on that porch swing.

"He bought it for you," I whispered.

"Last month. Had the keys made special – look." She dangled a keychain from her finger, a small silver anchor charm catching the light. "He said he wanted to give me all the dreams that mattered. Isn't that romantic?"

My dreams. He'd taken my dreams and wrapped them up like a gift for her.

"I don't understand why you're telling me this," I managed.

"Because I want you to understand that this isn't some fling. This isn't him having a midlife crisis." She leaned forward, her voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "Jayson loves me, Maggie. Really loves me. The way he used to love you, maybe, but deeper. More passionate. More real."

She slid another photo across the table – a screenshot of a text conversation. Jayson's words stared back at me: *I've never felt this alive. You make me remember who I used to be before everything got so complicated. I want to build a whole new life with you.*

"He's just scared to hurt you," Aspen continued. "But we both know this marriage is over. I'm just trying to make it easier for everyone."

I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. Several other patrons looked over, but I didn't care. I couldn't sit there another second, couldn't let her see me fall apart.

"Maggie, wait." Her voice followed me toward the door. "You seem upset. I thought you'd want to know the truth."

I turned back, and for a moment, she looked almost concerned. Almost human.

"The truth?" My voice was steady, which surprised us both. "The truth is that you're twenty-six years old, playing house with a married man, and you think that makes you special. But here's what you don't understand, Aspen – I built that man. I stood by him when he had nothing, when he was nobody. I sacrificed everything so he could become the person you fell in love with."

Her confident smile faltered slightly.

"So enjoy the lakefront house," I continued. "Enjoy the watch, the photos, the promises. But remember – you didn't win him. You just inherited the man I created."

I walked out before she could respond, but her laughter followed me onto the street, sharp and victorious.

The keys to my dreams were in her pocket, and she knew it.