The Good Wife Quit

After that, Adrian's mom, Claudia, rushed over.

Not for me.

She slipped between us, warm and easy with Celine. I got pushed out while the three of them chatted and laughed like I wasn't there.

When it turned sentimental, Claudia dabbed her eye. "I still remember you and Adrian joking about getting married in our house."

Celine's voice went soft. "Mrs. Sandford..."

I pressed my lips together, head down.

I didn't have to look. I could feel the stares—sharp, eager, mocking.

I'm the climber. The nobody who slipped in while Celine was gone.

So what was the point of all those years trying to please Claudia?

Cheap.

And my husband—

Maybe he was caught up in it too. He stood there, blank, but his hand kept tightening.

So yeah. He never loved me.

I stood there, quiet, awkward, until—

Celine looked up at me, something unwilling in her eyes. "Is she your wife?" Her voice shook, barely holding it together.

Finally, we stood side by side. The gap was obvious.

Even I felt it.

I forced a stiff smile.

Adrian shot me a cold glance. No explanation. No reassurance. Just, "Zane and the others threw you a welcome-home party."

Zane. And that group—especially the ones who always mocked me.

Just thinking about it made my head spin.

Adrian didn't care. He never did.

My body tensed on instinct. I held my breath, uneasy.

I forced a smile. "Then have fun. I'll—"

"You're going."

He cut me off. I froze.

He looked at me, cold, and repeated, slow, "You're going."