(Lydia)
Tears spilled down my cheeks unbidden as I watched him walk away, arm-in-arm with the woman who stole him from me.
My heart was broken. I was left to pick up the shattered pieces of my once blissful life. My husband was a soulless stranger, the other half of my heart irretrievably lost. I could only pray that one day, the gaping wound he left will begin to heal over.
Until then, I would go through the motions, forcing myself to move forward into a harsh new reality.
A cold, unrelenting world where the warmth of Thomas's embrace was but a distant, rapidly fading memory.
***
“Albert, no!” my mother had screamed as my father hurled a fist into her eye. She had been screaming and crying. And is that the house that I had grown up in. My little sister, Ruby, would hide behind me. I would watch from the top of the stairs as a child. When I grew a little bit older, I began to fight.
At first, Mama was grateful for the help. But, over time, I began to feel her resentment.
It pierced through me like a sword.
I never understood why.
My father hurled a big one at my face too. It was right after my freshman year at college. I packed up my bags and left, tears streaking the subway window that I had rested my head against.
“You’ll never make it on your own in this world!” he had yelled before I walked down the pavement from his house.
It was Thomas’s arms that I crashed into then I was shaken and sobbed.
“It’s okay,” he had murmured into my hair, as he caressed the back of my head and held me in his arms.
“I will always love, revere, and be there for you Lydia,” he had said, holding my tears streaked face in his palms.
At that time, he’d been my boyfriend for a year.
When we had graduated, Thomas had taken me home.
“We’re getting married!” he had exclaimed to his mother.
“If you’re going to be my daughter-in-law,” she had said to me through her exacting stare, “I want you to give up these silly performances.”
She had put a hand on my shoulder, a diamond glinting on her finger, and said, “You should befit the privilege of being the wife of my son.”
I had been happy to give my acting dream for Thomas. He meant the whole world to me.
“I do” I had said, beaming before him in a lawn by a lake. The sky above us had been blue and sunny. Our wedding cake had fifteen layers. I had worn a strapless white gown covered in lace and with a train that stretched all the way to the aisle.
And then the princess-cut diamond shone on my finger.
We’d flown to Paris on the very same day and spent the whole night moaning in ecstasy. His body had felt warm and comforting against mine.
I had climbed out onto the balcony the following day, still draped in sheets, and welcomed my new life with open arms.
“Welcome back!” Sarah had spread her arms out at us when we had returned to Denver. She had arranged a dinner for us.
But Thomas and I had stolen glances at one another, barely touching our food at all, and eager to return to the bedroom.
And then I moved into his house. As Mrs. Lombardi, I had redecorated the mansion: all white and gold with crystal décor.
“Surprise!” I had cheered when Thomas returned home as soon as the new decor had been set up.
He had looked around for barely a second before he had swooped me up into his arms. I had belly-laughed as he had said, “It’s beautiful but not quite as much as you,” and carried me back into our bedroom.
I had been the happiest in my life.
***
“Love, revere, and be there for you,” I murmured now, his voice echoing in my head, and only sadness embracing me.
At the table, the apple pie and lasagna that I’d so lovingly cooked for him had grown cold.
I tried to get up from the floor so that I could put it away, dashing my hopes as I did so. But, all of a sudden, I felt sick.
I ran towards the bathroom and lurched.
Oh, no, no, I thought, Please don’t be! I scrambled across my bedroom to the dresser drawer and hastily scoured for it. Tylenol … Cough drops … ah, there it was: the home pregnancy test.
I went inside the bathroom and waited. Two red stripes appeared on it in the hazy bathroom light. “That’s impossible!” I exclaimed, and fished for a second one from the box. Ten minutes later, it still showed two strips.
Third time’s the charm, I thought. But the results didn’t change.
***
“I would love to have a baby with you,” Thomas had said, nuzzling his nose against mine. “I want it to have your red locks,” he had tucked a stray strand behind my ear and leaned in to nibble my lip.
We had been trying to conceive before the accident and had both been delighted at the idea of the pitter patter of tiny feet across the floor. But, month after month, like clockwork, my period had arrived.
And every time it did, Thomas would hold me close and I would breathe in his pheromones as I cried myself to sleep in his arms. Sometimes, I had suspected he was crying too.
My mother in law had once seen me red-eyed when she had come over for brunch the morning after.
“Oh, please,” she had murmured softly as she sipped a cup of black tea from my painted china teacup, “What could you possibly have to be upset about?”
I sniffled and turned away. She had only gone on to say, “Honey, you were a struggling actress with no future when my son rescued you from a lifetime of scrubbing tables. Everything that you have now is inordinately good for you.”
And, maybe, a small part of me had believed her.
***
Ahead of the mirror in my bathroom, I started to uncontrollably shake. I simply couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that I was about to bear my ex-husband’s child.
I had never been able to reconcile with how Thomas’s warm love could have so swiftly turned into spite and loathing. There would be no way he would ever accept the child as his own.
Imagining the words “not mine” spewing from his lips when he learned about my condition was enough to make me feel sick again.
I bent down double over the sink and retched. Slowly, bracing myself against the sink, I rose again.
I looked inquisitively at the girl in the mirror, wondering if she might have any answers for how I was supposed to handle this. And then my father’s last words to me echoed in my head, “You’ll never make it out there alone!”
I washed up and dried my face. It was time to stop crying.
(Lydia)The reception was everything I had dreamed of and more. The air was filled with the sound of laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses. The venue, bathed in the soft glow of fairy lights, felt magical, as though we were all living in a dream. Thomas and I had just shared our vows, but now the celebration was in full swing, and the joy in the air was palpable.Mabel and Miles were the stars of the evening, as expected. They had barely left the dance floor since the music started, their little feet moving in uncoordinated yet adorable ways. Miles was trying to spin in circles, his arms flailing around as Mabel, ever the perfectionist, tried to keep him in check. They were a sight to behold, so carefree and full of life. Their giggles and shouts of “Look at me!” filled the room, and I couldn’t help but laugh along with them.Thomas was by my side, his hand gently resting on my back as we watched our children steal the show. The evening felt like it was slipping by in the most
(Thomas)The day had finally arrived. Our wedding day.I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my tie for the fifth time, trying to focus on the simple task instead of the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. I couldn’t stop the memories from creeping in, images of Lydia in a wedding dress years ago, her radiant smile lighting up the room, and the way my heart had soared knowing she was about to become my wife.And then, the accident. The chaos, the pain, the years we spent finding our way back to each other.Today wasn’t just about vows or rings. It was about us. About the journey we had taken, the battles we had fought, and the love that had carried us through it all.A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. Jack stepped in, looking sharp in his suit, his usual easygoing expression replaced by something softer.“You doing okay?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.I nodded, though my reflection betrayed me. “Just...a lot to process.”Jack walked over, clapping
(Lydia)With only a week left until the wedding, the house felt like a beehive, everyone buzzing with purpose, energy, and, occasionally, a touch of chaos. I stood in the middle of it all, both exhilarated and slightly overwhelmed.Ruby was in the corner of Mama’s room, hunched over her sewing machine, her brow furrowed in concentration. My wedding dress hung on a nearby mannequin, almost complete but still needing those final, intricate touches that only Ruby could master. She was doing this here because if she needed to know any adjustments, I would just be a few rooms away.She was holed up in Mama’s room because she didn’t want Thomas to get a glimpse of the wedding dress, not until the day of the wedding as I walked down the aisle.“Are you sure you don’t need a break?” I asked, holding out a cup of tea for her.Ruby looked up, her eyes tired but determined. “Not until this hem is perfect. You’re going to look stunning, Lydia. Just trust me.”“I do,” I said softly, setting the te
(Thomas)The moment we pulled up to the venue, I felt a mix of anticipation and pride. The sprawling garden, framed by blooming flowers and soft sunlight, looked like something out of a dream. This was it, the place where Lydia and I would officially start the next chapter of our lives.Mabel and Miles were already buzzing with excitement, craning their necks to get a better look as the car slowed to a stop.“Is that where we’re going to walk with the flowers?” Mabel asked, pointing to the long stone pathway that led to the main garden.“It is,” I said, glancing at Lydia, who was smiling softly.“It’s so pretty!” Miles added, practically bouncing in his seat.Once we were out of the car, the kids ran ahead, their laughter echoing in the crisp air. Lydia and I followed at a slower pace, her hand tucked into mine.“Can you believe it’s almost here?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.I shook my head. “It feels surreal. But seeing this place again...it makes it all feel real.”T
(Lydia)Sitting at the dining table with Thomas, a notebook in front of me and a pen in hand, I felt an odd mix of excitement and dread. Finalizing the guest list for our wedding should have been a straightforward task, but when Margaret got involved, nothing ever stayed simple for long.I glanced at Thomas, who was scrolling through his phone, cross-checking names. He looked calm, but I knew better. We were both bracing ourselves for the inevitable drama.“Are we really going to put up with Margaret’s list of distant cousins and relatives we’ve never met?” I asked, my voice low but pointed.Thomas sighed and set his phone down. “You know how mother is. She thinks a wedding is a chance to show off family connections.”“Well, it’s not her wedding,” I said firmly. “It’s ours, and I want it to feel personal, not like some society gala.”Thomas reached over and squeezed my hand. “I agree with you. But let’s try to handle this delicately. You know how she can get.”Before I could respond,
(Thomas)The house was alive with energy, and it all revolved around two very determined little people: Mabel and Miles. Ever since we’d told them they were going to be the flower girl and flower boy at the wedding, their excitement had reached a whole new level. They were taking their roles very seriously, perhaps even more seriously than Lydia and I were taking the rest of the wedding planning.This morning, the focus was on their outfits. Lydia and I had arranged for a tailor to come to the house to ensure everything fit perfectly. Mabel was already dressed in a soft pink dress with layers of tulle that made her look like a little princess. She twirled in front of the mirror, her curls bouncing with every spin.“Do you think I need a tiara, Daddy?” she asked, her big brown eyes wide with sincerity.I crouched down to her level, brushing a stray curl from her face. “I think you’re perfect just the way you are, sweetheart. But if you really want a tiara, we can look for one.”Mabel c