Ten Years of Marriage, a Shadow and Dust

For our tenth wedding anniversary, Matthew gave me a puppy.

I returned the puppy to the pet store and emailed him divorce papers.

His young mistress, Chloe, showed up at my door, sniffling.

Mrs. Sterling, it's my fault. Please, blame me, but don't bother Matthew with such trivial things.

Matthew wrapped an arm around her, comforting her, but his eyes were fixed on me.

"Stop being dramatic. You're thirty now."

At thirty, a woman loses the right to childish tantrums, but she gains the strength to walk away.

By the time Matthew thought to call me, I was already on a plane.

When I got home, Matthew was sitting on the sofa, looking grim.

"Running away? How juvenile?"

I'd been in Switzerland for nearly a month. Matthew had only just realized I was gone.

He still thought I was that young girl who put him first, who loved him desperately.

I opened my suitcase, pulling out souvenirs and a fresh copy of the divorce papers, placing them in front of him.

Matthew glanced at them dismissively and snorted.

"Childish games. Aren't we a bit old for this?"

"Alright, Sophie... Chloe didn't mean anything by it. Young girls love fluffy things. If you thought the gift wasn't grand enough, I'll get you something else."

He tossed a Tiffany catalog onto my lap.

When we first got together, he'd agonize over surprises for our hundred-day anniversary.

Now, he couldn't even remember our tenth-anniversary trip.

I started to get up to unpack, but my eyes caught on a tourmaline set in the catalog.

I'd gotten a tourmaline bracelet for my thirtieth birthday. This was the matching set.

The earrings and necklace were probably adorning Chloe right now.

I took a deep breath, feeling a wave of disgust as I tugged the bracelet off my wrist.

It was too tight, the pain brought tears to my eyes.

Matthew was scrolling through his phone and casually brought up a topic.

"Pick something nice for Phoebe too while you're at it. Maybe a pink dress. Little girls look cute in pink."

I suddenly remembered Chloe crying on my doorstep, wearing pink.

"I don't know her size."

I could barely recall the last time I'd seen Phoebe.

Matthew had convinced me to quit my job to have a child.

After Phoebe was born, his family insisted a Sterling heiress needed "proper" upbringing, afraid she'd pick up my "poor" ways.

They took her the day she turned one month old.

I only saw Phoebe during holiday gatherings.

Matthew's voice held a hint of annoyance.

"Forget it. I'll have Chloe look. Her taste is far better than yours anyway. Hopefully, Phoebe takes after her."

Of course, I couldn't compete with Chloe's taste.

Chloe was the neighbor's daughter, popular, young and beautiful.

Fresh out of some fancy boarding school and college, sent to Matthew's company to "gain experience."

The Sterlings forbade me from visiting, yet welcomed Chloe particularly.

Even in the family portrait, it was Chloe holding Phoebe beside Matthew, not me.

I rubbed my reddened wrist.

"You're right. So let's get the divorce finalized quickly. Don't let me keep your happy family apart."

"Are you done?" Matthew snapped, slamming his phone onto the coffee table.

"I've been more than generous with you. Don't push your luck. Remember, without me, you're nothing!"

Finally, the truth spilled out.

For ten years, Matthew always believed he'd done me a favor by marrying me.

Strangely, I felt lighter.

No more pretending this was a real marriage.

"Generous..." I said calmly.

"When my mother was dying, she called you. You didn't answer. You were probably at that concert with Chloe."

It was laughable. My husband was worth billions, yet my mother died because she couldn't afford surgery.

My parents never cared much for us kids.

After my father died, my five sisters scattered, cutting ties.

When Mom got sick, I was the only one who visited occasionally.

On the surface, Mrs. Sterling lived a charmed life.

In reality, every penny I spent had to be pre-approved.

The day Mom had her emergency, I called Matthew endlessly.

The one time he picked up, for three seconds, I didn't hear his voice, just the deafening music.

Too busy in his thirties to be with his wife at her mother's deathbed, but plenty of energy for concerts with a girl half his age.

After I spoke, Matthew just frowned.

"Look at you. You're turning out just like your mother."

He stalked off to the bedroom, probably afraid I'd use it as leverage.

In the past, no matter who was wrong, if Matthew gave me the silent treatment, I'd bake a small cake as an apology..

Him eating it meant we were okay again.

But this time, when Matthew opened the door, he wouldn't find a cake. He'd find an empty room.

I got in the car with my suitcase.

Matthew and I were each other's first love. High school sweethearts to the altar.

I once asked him why he liked me back then.

He said, "Because you were different."

He was the golden boy, everything came easily to him. Except for me.

After he had to repeat a grade due to illness, my GPA was always higher.

My achievements effortlessly surpassed his.

So Matthew pursued me relentlessly.

He publicly confessed.

Found out I was poor and convinced the principal to create a scholarship just for me.

He wove himself into every part of my life.

What made me fall for him completely was the day my mother gave birth to my brother.

I was the oldest of five girls. Life was a struggle.

To make room for the new baby, my father decided to sell the stray puppy I'd rescued and loved more than anything.

I screamed, threatening my father with a knife..

Matthew showed up just then, threw down a wad of cash, and took me away. He saved my future.

That day, I poured out years of hurt.

I said I'd never have a dog again. The pain was too deep.

I vowed to study hard, escape a life controlled by others.

Matthew held my hand, gentle but firm.

"I'm with you."

But promises made at eighteen expire by thirty.

Matthew turned my deepest shame into a funny story for Chloe.

My salvation turned out to be another trap.