My CEO Husband Regretted After I left

The next morning, Alexander woke up surprisingly early.

For once, he wasn't raging from a hangover. Instead, he pressed an apologetic kiss to my forehead.

"Evelyn, I'm sorry about last night. Work has been crazy, and I've been neglecting you. It's the weekend. Why don't all our families go to the lake for a barbecue? The kids have been asking to go for ages."

I was about to say I wasn't feeling well, but Alexander buttoned his polo shirt and added, as if it were an afterthought:

" Chloe just texted me. She said she's feeling lonely at her place, so I told her to pack a bag and join us. You know she doesn't have any other family. It's sad for her to be alone."

I swallowed the refusal that was sitting on the tip of my tongue.

Always the same excuse. Always the "poor, lonely little sister."

When we arrived at the campground by the lake, Alexander acted like the Husband of the Year.

But his devotion wasn't directed at me.

"Chloe, put on some bug spray. The mosquitoes are vicious out here."

"Chloe, the sun is too intense. Go sit under the canopy. You don't want to burn."

Chloe was wearing a skimpy crop top and denim cutoffs, radiating youthful energy. She dragged Alexander and the kids onto the grass to play, her laughter ringing out like wind chimes.

"Dad! Throw the Frisbee to Auntie Chloe!" Leo shouted excitedly.

"Auntie, you're so good at this! Go Auntie!" Mia circled around her, eyes full of worship.

Meanwhile, I looked like the hired help who brought her own supplies.

I struggled alone to unload the heavy cooler from the SUV. I crouched by the charcoal grill, arranging the briquettes, slicing the steaks, and flipping the burgers.

The smoke choked me, making me cough, while sweat and ash smeared across my forehead.

Not far away, a group of hikers stopped, looking enviously at the laughter coming from Alexander and the others.

"Look at that family. They're gorgeous. The dad is handsome, the mom is young and hot, and they have a son and a daughter. Total American Dream."

One of the hikers pointed at me, standing in a cloud of BBQ smoke. "Wait, who's the lady at the grill then?"

"Oh, looking at how she's dressed? Definitely the nanny. Rich people really know how to live."

Their comments were just loud enough to drift into my ears.

My hand, holding the tongs, froze in mid-air. My heart felt like it had been dunked in ice water, but honestly, I was too numb to feel the sting anymore.

I looked up at the happy "family of four." Alexander didn't look back at me once. Not even to ask, "Do you need a hand?"

In the afternoon, Chloe took a call, feigning a sweet, distressed tone, claiming a work emergency. She hopped into Alexander's convertible and drove off.

About an hour after she left, Alexander started acting restless.

He stood up, clutching his iPhone, looking serious. "Evelyn, there's a crisis with the board. I need to hop on a Zoom call. I'm going to find a quiet spot in the woods. Watch the kids."

I watched him walk away, a cynical smirk touching my lips.

It was Sunday. What board crisis happens on a Sunday?

I put down the platter of food and followed him.

Behind a large oak tree, Alexander had his back to me. He was holding his phone up, wearing a look of pure, indulgent adoration that I hadn't seen directed at me in years.

He wasn't in a meeting. He was on FaceTime.

On the screen, Chloe was clearly back at her penthouse, sitting in her massive walk-in closet. She was excitedly holding up a limited edition Hermès Birkin bag.

"Alex! You're the best! Is this really for me? I've wanted this color forever!"

It was the exact bag I had talked about for three years. The one Alexander had dismissed, saying, "It's a waste of money," and "Why do you need a Birkin to go grocery shopping?"

It turned out he didn't think it was a waste of money. He just thought I was a waste of money.

Alexander cooed at the woman on the screen. "Silly girl. When have I ever denied you anything you wanted? You had a rough night yesterday; consider this a retail therapy apology."

Just then, my daughter, Mia, ran out from the bushes.

She saw Alexander's screen and immediately squeezed into her father's arms, screaming sweetly at the camera:

"Auntie! Auntie, your new bag is so pretty!"

Chloe giggled on the video call. "Mia! Who's prettier, Auntie or Mommy?"

Mia didn't even hesitate. Her child's voice was loud and brutal.

"Auntie is way prettier! Mommy always smells like old cooking grease. It's gross. It's embarrassing to be seen with her! You smell like perfume, Auntie. You're the only one who matches a bag like that!"

"Don't talk nonsense!" Alexander retorted sternly. "Your Mom works very hard cooking for us, so don't talk about her like that next time! She would be heartbroken if she heard that!"

Standing behind the tree, I gave a bitter smile; so he knew I would be hurt.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted metallic blood, forcing myself not to storm out and scream at them.

There was no point.

Just 14 days left.