My Husband Chose His Mistress Over My Dying Father

Mrs. Moore called at ten in the morning.

I was standing in my father's hospital room at Lenox Hill, watching his chest rise and fall, when my phone buzzed. I almost didn't answer.

"Emryn." Her voice was crisp. Efficient. "I'm calling about my birthday dinner next Saturday. I assume Dalton told you."

He hadn't.

"Of course," I said.

"Good. Seven o'clock. Marea. Everyone important will be there." She paused. "I trust you'll make the effort to attend. Your absence would be noted. And discussed."

I closed my eyes. "I'll be there."

"Lovely." She hung up.

I stood there with the phone in my hand and my father's monitors beeping behind me. I thought about saying no. I thought about texting Dalton and telling him to go alone.

But I knew what that would cost me. Another mark against my name. Another reason I wasn't good enough.

I put the phone away.

---

The restaurant was all white marble and soft lighting. I arrived exactly on time. The hostess led me to a private room in the back where the Moore family was already gathered around a long table.

Mrs. Moore sat at the head. Dalton was three seats down on her right. The chair beside him was empty.

I started toward it.

"Emryn." Mrs. Moore's voice stopped me. She gestured to the far end of the table. "You're down there, dear. We're saving these seats."

I looked at Dalton. He didn't look back.

I sat where I was told.

Ten minutes later, Natalia arrived.

She wore a cream silk dress that looked effortless and probably cost more than my rent. Kaysen walked beside her, his hand in hers. Mrs. Moore stood up. Smiled. Opened her arms.

"Natalia. Darling. Come sit."

Natalia kissed Mrs. Moore's cheek. She settled into the chair beside Dalton. Kaysen climbed into the empty seat on his other side. Dalton ruffled the boy's hair. Natalia laughed at something Mrs. Moore said.

I sat at the far end of the table and studied my water glass.

Dinner started. Conversation flowed around me. Natalia referenced a vacation she and Dalton had taken with their families as teenagers. Mrs. Moore reminisced about Natalia's mother. Dalton smiled. Kaysen asked if they could go to the beach house again this summer.

No one asked me a single question.

I ate in silence. The food tasted like nothing.

---

It happened fast.

Kaysen slid out of his chair and ran toward the bathroom. No one stopped him. He veered past my seat. His shoulder slammed into mine.

I lurched sideways. My temple cracked against the marble corner of the serving console.

Pain exploded behind my eyes. Hot. Sharp. Blinding.

I heard someone gasp. I felt something warm running down my cheek. I touched my face. My fingers came away red.

The table went silent.

I looked up. Dalton was on his feet. But he wasn't moving toward me.

He was pulling Kaysen behind him. Shielding him.

"Emryn, for God's sake." His voice was hard. Irritated. "You're scaring him."

I blinked. Blood dripped onto my silk blouse. The room tilted.

"He didn't mean it," Natalia said softly. She crouched beside Kaysen, her hand on his shoulder. "It was an accident, sweetheart. It's okay."

Mrs. Moore sighed. "Really, Emryn. Must you make such a scene?"

I gripped the edge of the table. The room swam. My head throbbed. I tasted copper.

I looked at Dalton. He looked back at me with the same expression he always wore. Tired. Inconvenienced. Faintly annoyed.

Something inside me snapped.

I pushed myself upright. My legs shook. I pressed my napkin to my temple. Blood soaked through immediately.

"I want a divorce."

My voice came out clear. Steady. Loud enough for everyone to hear.

The table froze.

Dalton stared at me. "Emryn—"

"I'm done," I said. "I'm filing on Monday. This marriage is over."

Mrs. Moore's mouth opened. Natalia's eyes went wide. Kaysen looked up at his mother, confused.

I set the napkin on the table. Blood pooled on the white linen.

I walked out.

No one followed.

---

I stood on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. My head pounded. My vision blurred. I raised my hand. A cab pulled over.

"Mount Sinai emergency room," I said.

The driver looked at my face in the rearview mirror. "You okay, lady?"

"I'm fine," I said.

I wasn't.

But I would be.

I pulled out my phone. My hands shook. I scrolled to Ryan's number.

I didn't call. Not yet.

But I saved it to my favorites.

The cab pulled into traffic. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. The city blurred past the window. The pain in my skull was sharp and clean.

It felt like waking up.