I dropped into the closest chair. She was right.
I’d been so wrapped up in my grief, so busy leaning on her, that I hadn’t given our marriage any attention at all.
But she was my wife… wasn’t she supposed to support me through hard times? I would’ve supported her.
“How long?” I asked.
“I’ve been seeing Michael for three months. He makes me happy.”
“Michael?”
She nodded.
That’s when it hit me.
She didn’t even flinch. “He was there for me when you weren’t.”
The ground disappeared beneath my feet. While I was mourning, my wife had been having an affair… with my stepfather!
The two people left in the world who were supposed to love me most had betrayed me.
I went to see Michael the next day. I confronted him the moment he opened the front door.
“Please, tell me this is a mistake, that you and Iris aren’t… it can’t be true.”
He smiled at me.
He shrugged like we were talking about the weather. “It just happened.”
Their audacity was incredible.
The divorce was a blur.
I didn’t fight for much. I just wanted to be away from them both.
I spent six months trying to piece my life back together, one lonely day at a time.
Then, the phone rang.
It was Michael.
“Hey, son! I’ve got some great news.
Iris and I are getting married next month. We want you there. You’re like a son to me, after all.
Iris says she doesn’t mind if you come.”
I have never felt such rage before. It was like a wildfire burning in my limbs and roaring through my skull.
For six months, they hadn’t checked on me.
They’d never apologized either, and now he wanted me to watch him marry my ex-wife?
I wanted to tell him exactly what he could do with his invitation, but as the words came together, I got a brilliant idea.
I spent the next few weeks working on a very special gift.
I walked into the wedding venue wearing my best suit.
I saw people I recognized — aunts, uncles, and old friends of my mother. They looked at me with a mix of pity and confusion.
When it was time for gifts, I had two movers bring in a massive wooden crate.
It was huge!
The room went silent as they set it down in the center of the floor.
Iris and Michael walked over, looking curious.
They pulled the front panel off the box.
Inside was a large, freestanding tree.
I had spent weeks crafting it from pale wood and thick wire.
Metal plaques engraved with names hung from four branches.
A guest near the front frowned and whispered, “What… is that?”
Iris leaned forward for a closer look.
The color drained from her face so fast I thought she might faint.
At the very top of the tree, I had engraved my mother’s name.
I included her birth and death dates.
Right next to her, on the same main branch, was Michael’s name.
Underneath them, hanging as their child, was my name.
It was a perfect representation of the family we used to be.
But there was more. I had placed Iris’s name on a broken branch hanging off to the side of mine. It represented our divorce.
Michael and Iris stared at it in shocked confusion.
I stepped forward into the circle.
I reached out and grabbed the branch with Iris’s name on it. With a loud snap, I pulled it completely off the tree.
Then, I moved it up the trunk and placed it directly beside Michael’s name.
I had hidden magnets on the back so it clicked perfectly into place.
I looked Iris dead in the eye. “That’s where it belongs now. Isn’t that right, Mother?”
The word hit her like a physical blow.
Iris let out a sound that didn’t even resemble a human scream at first. It was sharp, raw, and panicked.
It rose in volume, echoing through the high ceilings of the hall.
“GET THAT OUT OF HERE!” She grabbed at Michael’s arm, her nails digging into his expensive suit.
“What is wrong with you?! Why would you do this?!”
Michael just stared at the tree. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.
Guests started shifting in their seats.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several people pull out their phones.
This was going to be all over social media by dinner.
Iris rounded on me.
“I agree, but it’s also true.
Here we all are, after all, watching you two get married.” I spread my arms to indicate the church, the wedding, and the rows of guests.
A murmur rolled through the room, but I cleared my throat loudly. I wasn’t finished speaking yet.
I turned my attention to Michael.
His eyes flicked up to mine.
He looked terrified.
“You said that’s why you wanted me here,” I continued. “So, I tried to understand what that made her. If you are my father, and she is your wife…
well, the math is pretty simple, isn’t it?”
Silence fell again. Even Iris stopped shouting. She just stood there, looking at the guests who were now staring at her with total disgust.
I gestured to the tree.
“If you were really acting as my father, then this is the family you built.” I moved closer to Michael.
“Now, maybe you can tell me something, man to man. Or, I guess, son to father.”
Michael swallowed hard.
“Was it fatherly,” I asked, “to have an affair with your son’s wife while he was mourning his mother? Your late wife?”
Someone in the audience actually gasped.
Iris screamed again, even louder this time.
She clutched her head as if she could block out my words.
“Don’t listen to him! He’s just bitter!
He’s trying to humiliate us!”
I shook my head slowly. “I didn’t humiliate anyone, Iris. I just accepted the roles you two chose.
You wanted to be a family? Fine. This is what it looks like.”
Michael finally found his voice, though it was weak and shaking.
“You didn’t have to do this here, Nate. Not like this.”
“Where would have been better?” I asked. “At dinner?
In a letter? You invited me, Michael. Did you truly think I would want to celebrate this?”
“I won’t be staying for the cake,” I said.
“But I wanted to bring something meaningful. I thought a gift that showed the truth was better than a blender.”
I turned to Iris one last time.
She was trembling, her face twisted in a mask of hate and shame.
“You said I forgot about you this past year,” I said.
My voice softened, but it was still sharp. “I didn’t forget you, Iris. I was burying my mother.
I thought you were helping me. I didn’t realize you were busy replacing her.”
Her face changed for a split second.
I saw a flicker of genuine shame.
It didn’t last long before the anger came back to hide it, but I saw it. I knew I had hit the mark.
I turned and started walking down the aisle. No one tried to stop me.
The guests parted like the Red Sea.
As I moved toward the exit, the whispers grew louder. They weren’t hushed anymore.
I heard words like “disgusting” and “betrayal.”
I heard a few people getting up to leave.
I didn’t look back. I didn’t need to.
I knew exactly what I was leaving behind.
I pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped out into the cool evening air.
The doors closed softly behind me, cutting off the sound of Iris starting to sob and the frantic murmurs of the crowd.
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