Chapter 1"Brady's finally getting remarried. Good for him."
"Yeah. Poor guy. His first wife died right after the wedding. So tragic."
I was on a business trip when I overheard two of my husband's old buddies talking.
I froze.
Wait—WHAT? I'm alive. I'm standing right here. How the hell am I dead?
And remarried? What the fuck does that mean?
We had a three-year-old son. We'd been married for five years.
Who the hell was he marrying?
I pulled out my phone, noted the venue and date, then got the hell out of there.
Two days later, I showed up at the venue.
Can't wait to meet Wife #2.
—Wife #1
---
The second I walked up to the venue, a massive wedding portrait greeted me.
The guy? My husband. The woman? No clue.
That photo setup must've cost a fortune.
I told Brady years ago I wanted us to do ours at that same studio.
He said, "Wedding photos are just for show. Total waste of money."
"As long as we love each other and make it work, that's all that matters."
So we ended up at some cheap-ass studio near our place. Bargain basement package.
I spotted several familiar faces—Brady's aunts, his uncle.
Holy shit, half his family's here.
He's really doing this? Just gonna parade his mistress in front of everyone like it's nothing?
Then I glanced at the head table and my blood went cold.
Sitting there, front and center—Brady's parents. My in-laws.
Relatives kept coming over to congratulate them. They were grinning ear to ear.
Guests kept coming over, saying shit like:
"Oh my God, Mallory's such a sweetheart. I can just tell she's gonna be good for him. You guys are gonna be so happy!"
My mother-in-law ate that shit up. "I know, right?! Ever since Brady met her, things have been going great. Not like the last one—bad luck all around. Anyway, today's a happy day. Let's not talk about her..."
That hit me like a punch in the gut.
Six years. I spent six years being the perfect daughter-in-law. And in her eyes? I was just bad luck.
If I really was bad luck, they'd all be six feet under by now.
My father-in-law chimed in. "I never wanted Brady to marry her in the first place."
Wait—me?
"Yeah, but she said her family would cover the wedding. That's the only reason we agreed."
"Free weddings are always cheap. That's why this time we made sure. We're dropping six figures on this thing. Now this daughter-in-law? Worth every penny."
So because I didn't ask for money back then—because I wanted to help them out—they looked down on me?
I was basically a charity case. And now they're throwing a hundred K at Mallory like it's confetti.
This is batshit fucking crazy.
I wanted to march right up and tear into them, but I held back.
I'll deal with them later.
I turned and left the banquet hall.
The bride was surrounded by bridesmaids, getting ready to make her entrance.
Mallory noticed me coming out and smiled. "You work with Brady, right?"
My stomach was doing flips, but I swallowed it and nodded.
One of the bridesmaids grabbed Mallory's hand and stared at the jade bracelet on her wrist.
"Mallory, you're so fucking lucky. Brady must've spent a fortune on this thing. Six figures, easy, right?"
"He insisted on buying it. Said marriage is forever, so if he's gonna do it, he's gonna do it right." Mallory touched the bracelet, smiling like she just won the lottery.
My chest felt hollow.
When Brady and I got married, I got nothing.
I asked if we could at least get rings. Something to show we were married.
He said, "Why spend money on that? You're not like other girls—you don't care about that stuff."
I was obviously pissed, so he goes, "When I get a raise, I'll get you one. I promise."
And he did keep that promise—kind of.
Every year after that, he'd take his year-end bonus and buy me a gold bar. Said it was for me and our son's future security.
Wait.
Where'd he get the money for a six-figure bracelet?
He gives me his salary every month—fifteen hundred after deductions. I've seen his pay stubs. And his bonuses are always accounted for.
Just then, another bridesmaid gushed, "I heard his company's doing crazy well. He gets like a hundred grand a year just in dividends. He could buy you ten of those bracelets if he wanted."
Chapter 2
Dividends?
We've been married almost six years. How did I not know he had company shares?
Every month, Brady shows me his pay stub. Fifteen hundred after taxes. Gives me twelve hundred, keeps three hundred for work stuff.
I never questioned it.
Turns out he's pulling in six figures a year on the side.
Mallory suddenly turned to me.
"You work with him, right? You probably know how much he makes. Tell me, so I know if he's hiding money later."
It felt like someone kept stabbing me in the chest.
His salary? You know more than I do.
All that money went to you. A six-figure bracelet. I didn't even dare dream of that.
And those yearly hundred-thousand-dollar dividends? First I'm hearing about it.
But sure, go ahead and ask me how much he makes.
I almost lost it. My mouth twitched.
Mallory must've noticed, because she quickly backed off. "Oh, maybe you don't know either. That's okay."
"I've met most of Brady's coworkers, but I've never seen you before. You must be new."
I forced myself to calm down.
"Yeah. Just started. I really don't know what he makes."
One of the bridesmaids laughed. "God, your man is perfect. Hot, rich, and he doesn't even smoke."
Mallory giggled. "He's not a non-smoker. He quit because we want a honeymoon baby."
I almost dropped my phone.
When I was pregnant, the first trimester was hell. I couldn't even smell smoke without puking my guts out.
I begged him to quit. He said he couldn't—work dinners, client meetings, it was part of the job.
Then three months ago, he suddenly threw out all his cigarettes. Said he was doing it for me and our son. For our health.
I actually cried. Thought he finally cared.
Turns out he quit for her. For their baby.
Not me. Not our son.
Mallory looked a little embarrassed. "Sorry, they're just messing around."
I couldn't stop myself. "You really trust him that much? What if he's got a whole other family?"
Mallory froze. "What's that supposed to mean?"
The bridesmaids jumped in. "What, did your husband cheat? So now you're hoping hers does too?"
I laughed. "Actually, yeah. You nailed it."
Mallory's expression shifted. Smug. Pitying.
"Brady's not like your husband. He'd never cheat on me."
"Oh yeah? Then where the hell is he? Shouldn't he be here by now?"
"He went to pick up some college friends. They flew in for the wedding. He'll be back any minute."
Right on cue, her phone rang. "Babe! Where are you?"
The bridesmaids went quiet. His voice came through the speaker, loud and clear.
"Almost there, babe. I'm so fucking excited to finally marry you."
Mallory's face went red. "Just drive safe, okay?"
The bridesmaids started freaking out. "Oh my God, did you hear that? You guys have known each other for five years and he still talks to you like that?"
"Well, yeah. We only get to spend half the year together, so..."
My ears started ringing.
Five years.
They've known each other for five years.
I don't know if I'm stupid or if he's just that good at lying.
No—I'm not stupid. I trusted him.
I believed him when he said the company was rotating managers. That he had to work out of state every other month.
I thought he was really driven. I didn't wanna be the one holding him back.
So I did everything. Took care of our son, cooked, worked, never complained.
One night, our son spiked a fever. I sat in the ER by myself until morning.
Didn't even call Brady. Didn't want to bother him.
Meanwhile, he was spending all that time with her.
The bridesmaids wouldn't shut up about it. "I mean, come on. Brady's hot, he's loaded, he doesn't even smoke, and he's sweet? Like, what's wrong with him? There's gotta be something. Give us something so we don't hate you."
Mallory was laughing. "Okay, okay... honestly? The only annoying thing is he makes me drink soup every single day. Says it's good for me or whatever."
"And he gets up at like six in the morning to make it. Every. Single. Day."
More squealing.
Another gut punch.
Brady's never made me breakfast. Not once in six years.
When I was pregnant and could barely bend over, he said he'd start cooking.
He burned the porridge like three times. I tried to teach him. He never got it.
I thought he just couldn't cook.
Turns out it wasn't the skill. It was me.
I stood there, frozen.
One of the bridesmaids pushed. "Come on, that's not a real flaw. Give us an actual one."
Mallory's face got serious.
"Okay... but don't ever bring this up around him."
"Brady was married before."
"His ex-wife and their son... they died in a car accident two years ago. It really messed him up. He still can't talk about it."
Chapter 3
I saw red.
He didn't just kill me off in his story.
He killed our son.
Our son. Our smart, sweet, beautiful boy who hugged him yesterday and said "I love you, Daddy."
And Brady wiped him out. Just like that. To make room for his shiny new life.
I was about to lose my shit when my phone rang.
It was my mother-in-law.
Everyone looked at me. I stepped away to answer.
"Skylar, I need you to send me ninety grand. Right now."
"Mom, what do you need ninety thousand dollars for?"
"I told you, didn't I? Your dad and I are helping with a wedding. They want us to be their godparents. So we're giving her a gift to welcome her into the family. Ninety thousand. Just send it. They're waiting."
Godparents?
Ninety grand?
This is for Mallory. This is the money they're giving her for becoming their daughter-in-law.
And she wants ME to pay for it.
When I married Brady, she gave me eighteen hundred bucks.
Now she wants to hand Mallory ninety thousand?
I was fucking furious.
"Mom, who gives ninety grand as a wedding gift? That's not normal."
Her voice turned cold. "Excuse me? We're helping with a wedding. It's what we decided to do. Why are you making this into a problem?"
"Because you're asking ME for the money! If it's so important, use your own savings."
"Or wait—is this not a 'gift' at all? Is this the money you're giving your new daughter-in-law for calling you Mom and Dad?"
Silence.
Then she exploded.
"How dare you! I thought you were this sweet, respectful daughter-in-law, but the second I ask you for one thing, you turn on me!"
"That money? My son worked his ass off for it. I'll spend it however I want. You don't get to tell me what to do."
I wasn't about to let that slide.
"Your son brings home eighteen hundred a month. He gives me fifteen. We have a mortgage, a car payment, and a kid to raise. Oh, and newsflash—I work too. I make just as much as he does."
She scoffed. "Oh, so you're SO independent now."
Then she hung up.
I took a second to calm down. Fixed my shirt, and went back inside.
Mallory was saying, "So instead of cash, his mom's giving me five gold bars. As like, a wedding gift."
"I know, right? I'd never heard of anyone doing that before."
The bridesmaids laughed.
My heart sank.
Five gold bars.
That's exactly how many Brady's given me over the years.
They're taking my gold bars to give to her.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Brady appeared, surrounded by friends.
The music started. Mallory began walking toward the stage.
Brady stood at the end, back straight, waiting for his second bride.
Mallory was halfway there when I stepped onto the stage, grabbed the mic, and said:
"Babe, how come you didn't tell me you were getting married?"
