Once His Wife, Now A Stranger He’ll Never Forget

“May I ask, Paisley, who that tie was meant for?”

“For my husband.”

With a faint, weary smile, Evren rubbed his temple, as if my reply was only meant to stir him.

“That same brand and design, you used to get it for me all the time five years back.”

“So what?”

My eyes met his, calm and sure.

“You don’t have to act like you’re fine. After all these years, I only hope you’re doing alright, not like this.”

Like what?

In the glass by the community gate, my reflection appeared.

Simple clothes, plain flats, and a canvas bag packed with groceries.

I looked like any ordinary person working to get by.

For someone who once dressed in fine clothes and jewelry, this wasn’t bad at all.

With no irritation, I smiled. “I think it’s pretty good.”

For a moment, his expression wavered. “Paisley, you really don’t seem like the same person anymore.”

“Yeah, people tell me that a lot.”

Saying that, I turned and walked off, never once turning my head.

After climbing five floors, I unlocked the door.

Inside, the place still looked nearly the same as it had the year before.

Beside the old TV stood my mother’s photo, the candle before it long gone out.

I set new ones in place, tied on an apron, and headed for the kitchen.

Soon, I had three dishes and one soup ready.

Across the table sat a bowl of rice that no one had touched, and I ate slowly.

“Mom, I saw Evren today.”

“Don’t get upset. He can’t push your daughter around anymore. I’m not as naïve as I used to be.”

Only silence answered back.

With little hunger left, I laid down my utensils and walked into the bedroom, pulling out an old photo album.

“Let’s look at your beauty again, Mom. Staring at that black-and-white one all the time gets dull.”

Before I could flip open the album, a photo slipped loose and dropped onto the floor.

When I bent down to grab it, the faces in it came into view.

Evren and Leah.

Three young faces smiling easily at the camera.

I stood in the center, arms hooked around both of them, my smile the widest, one of my right canine teeth missing, making me look a little goofy.

That had been the summer when we were thirteen.

Debt collectors had tracked down Evren’s house, shouting and threatening to hurt people.

None of the neighbors dared to step in, not even my parents, but I ran in anyway.

The punch meant for Evren’s face landed square on mine.

My tooth broke right then, and my face stayed puffy for half a month.

My mother, upset and shaken, told me I must never have anything to do with the Hendrix family again.

But she never expected his mother, dragging her disabled legs, to kneel before my parents, bowing in respect.

With that, my mother’s heart softened.

For almost ten years, through every season, there was always one more pair of utensils and an extra bowl waiting for Evren at our table.

During every holiday or festival, there was always another set of new clothes, boys’ sizes.

Whenever she had free time, my mother would help Riley sell at her stall, and if anyone dared to cause her trouble, my mother’s temper would flare until no one ever bothered her again.

They began calling each other sisters.

Yet no one ever imagined that the quiet, self-conscious younger sister, who could barely speak without stuttering, would one day climb into her older sister’s husband’s bed.

That day when I walked through the door, the entire house was in ruins.

In the center of the room, my mother stood sobbing so hard it seemed she couldn’t catch her breath.

Across her face were five red handprints.

My father, meanwhile, stood shielding the woman clinging to his chest.

“Let’s divorce. You can take everything, I just want Riley.”

Next to me, Evren looked terrified, reaching out to grab Riley’s hand, but my mother struck her twice.

I shoved her, and she dropped to the floor, staring up at me in complete shock.