Your Wife, A Stranger Now

The next morning, Alistair was up unusually early.

This time, he wasn't nursing a hangover with a temper. Instead, he pressed an apologetic kiss to my forehead.

"Juliana, I'm sorry about last night. I've been swamped with work, and I've neglected you. It's the weekend. How about a family beach party in the Hamptons? The kids have been begging to go."

I was about to say I wasn't feeling well, but Alistair, buttoning his Polo shirt, added casually:

"By the way, Cassidy's coming too. She's been stressed and needs some sea breeze."

Under the Hamptons sun, Alistair played the part of doting father and "good brother" to perfection. He hovered over Cassidy, reminding her to reapply sunscreen and insisting she sit under the beach umbrella, terrified the UV rays might harm her delicate skin.

Dressed in a revealing bikini with a sheer cover-up, Cassidy radiated a vibrant, youthful energy. She pulled Alistair and the kids into a game of beach volleyball, her bright laughter carrying on the sea breeze.

"Dad! Pass it to Aunt Cassidy!" Miles yelled, his voice buzzing with excitement.

"Auntie, you're so good! Go, Auntie!" Paige cheered, circling her with adoring eyes.

And me? I might as well have been the high-end housekeeper this wealthy family had hired for the day.

Alistair had insisted on "private family time," giving the staff the day off. The reality was, "private family time" just meant all the work fell on me.

I single-handedly hauled heavy coolers from the SUV. I squatted by the portable grill, arranging charcoal, prepping lobster rolls, and flipping Angus beef patties.

The charcoal smoke made me cough, sweat and sunscreen mixing into a greasy film on my face.

Not far off, a group of well-dressed beachgoers paused, looking enviously at the joyful scene Alistair's group was making.

"Look at that family. The epitome of the American dream. A handsome father, a young, hot mom, and two beautiful kids."

One of them pointed at me, shrouded in grill smoke. "Wait, who's that lady by the barbecue?"

"Oh, look at how she's dressed. Definitely their cook or nanny. The rich really know how to live."

The sea breeze carried their words straight to me.

My hand, holding the tongs, froze. My heart felt like it had been plunged into ice water, but I was too numb to feel the sting.

I looked up at the happy "family of four." Alistair hadn't glanced my way once. He hadn't even thought to ask, "Juliana, need a hand?"

In the afternoon, Cassidy took a call. Her voice, a saccharine blend of panic and pain, claimed there was an emergency at her gallery. She hopped into Alistair's convertible and sped off.

About an hour after she left, Alistair grew restless.

He stood up, clutching his iPhone, his expression grave. "Juliana, board crisis. I need to take a video call. Going to find a quiet spot behind the dunes; the signal's bad here. Watch the kids."

I watched him walk away, a cynical smile on my lips.

A board crisis? On a Sunday?

I set down the platter of freshly grilled corn and followed him silently.

Behind a patch of sea grass, Alistair had his back to me. He held up his phone, his face filled with a pure, indulgent adoration I hadn't seen directed at me in twenty years.

He wasn't in a meeting. He was on a video call.

On the screen, Cassidy was back in her sprawling SoHo apartment, perched inside an enormous walk-in closet. She was excitedly holding up a vintage Cartier watch.

"Alistair! You're the best! Is this really for me? I've wanted this one forever!"

It was the exact watch I had bookmarked in his browser three years ago. The one Alistair had called "impractical," asking, "What's a housewife like you going to do with a vintage watch?"

It wasn't impractical. I just wasn't worthy.

Alistair cooed at her. "When have I ever said no to you? Your stomach was upset last night, so think of this as your brother cheering you up."

Just then, my daughter Paige ran out from behind another dune, holding a seashell.

She saw Alistair's screen and immediately squeezed into her father's arms, squealing sweetly at the camera.

"Aunt Cassidy! Your new watch is so pretty! A surprise from Dad?"

Cassidy giggled, her eyes playful. "Paige! Tell Auntie honestly, does this watch look better on my wrist, or your mom's?"

Paige didn't hesitate. Her childish voice was loud and cruel.

"Yours, of course! Your hands are so fair and slender. Mom's hands are all calloused, and she always smells like the kitchen. It's so embarrassing. Being seen with her is humiliating! Only you deserve a watch like this!"

"Don't be silly!" Alistair's rebuttal was flimsy, his tone a performance of seriousness that held no real reprimand. "Your mother worked hard for this party. Don't talk about her like that again. You'll hurt her feelings if she hears."

Standing behind the cabana pillar, a bitter smile formed on my lips. So, he knew. He knew it would hurt me.

I bit my lip hard, tasting the metallic tang of blood, forcing myself not to charge out there and scream.

It was pointless.

Only 14 days left.