Dead Wife's Return: The Cheater's Rooftop Regret

My husband’s mistress and I shared the exact same birthday.

That was why, halfway through dinner, our son Brooks looked up from his plate. "Mom, are we celebrating your birthday a day early again this year?" Julian didn't even lift his head.

He calmly sliced his steak. "No time. It's Skylar's twentyfifth this year," he added, chewing slowly. "I'm flying her out to the Bahamas for a dive trip.

We have certification classes the next few days.

My schedule is packed." For five years, I had swallowed my pride and moved my birthday forward by twentyfour hours just to make room for his affair.

This year, my existence was simply erased. Brooks didn't notice the dead air at the table. He practically vibrated in his seat. "I want to go diving too!

Dad, please let me come with you guys!" Julian gave the boy a permissive nod, then finally shifted his cold gaze to me. "Elara, just text me your birthday wish.

Whatever you want, consider it done." My birthday wish was already finalized. Divorce. Chapter 1 While I cleared the dinner table, Julian dialed Skylar. "Brooks wants to tag along.

That work for you?" Skylar's giggles bled through the phone speaker. "Why wouldn't it?

Unless you were planning on doing something bad." Julian leaned lazily against the kitchen counter. "Something bad, huh?" He chuckled, idly flicking the edge of the new spice rack I’d just bought. "Alright.

Just wait until I see you." As they flirted right in front of me, I looked down at Brooks. "You're really going?

You don't want to stay and celebrate Mom's birthday?" Brooks didn't look up from his iPad. "Yeah. It's way more fun with Dad and Skylar." I didn't say another word.

I just walked into the bedroom, pulled a suitcase from the closet, and started packing their clothes. Staring at the empty luggage, a memory hit me. My first trip with Julian.

We were eighteen, young and stupid enough to get scammed out of fifty bucks just to hang one of those cheap lovers' padlocks on a tourist bridge.

Julian had pulled me into his arms back then, rubbing my back. "When I make real money," he’d promised, "I'll buy out all these locks.

You can hang them wherever you want." We used to burn so bright. I didn't know how the ashes had gotten so cold. The first time I found his dirty texts with Skylar, I had screamed.

I demanded a divorce. Julian had dropped to his knees right there in the hallway, grabbing my hands. "Baby, I messed up. I swear it'll never happen again.

I'm firing her tomorrow." But tomorrow never came. Instead, Julian gave Skylar an official title as his girlfriend.

He stood in our living room months later, wearing a perfectly tailored suit, adjusting his cuffs as he looked down at me. "Elara, relax.

I know the difference between the wife at home and the woman outside.

I won't let her affect your life." I had shattered the matching coffee mugs we bought on our honeymoon against the wall. I stayed awake all night, staring at the ceiling.

I thought about his awkward teenage confession, his vows at the altar, the way his eyes were red and swollen from crying when I gave birth to Brooks.

I had looked at the crib where our baby was sleeping. The next morning, I bought two shatterproof acrylic cups.

And just like that, I swallowed the bitter pill of Skylar's existence. A sudden weight crashed into my leg, yanking me out of the past.

Brooks stomped into the room, pointing at the open suitcase. "Mom, I don't want to bring these ugly clothes you bought me." I reached out and caught his small hand. "Your asthma has been acting up.

The ocean breeze is strong, so you need layers." He yanked his hand away. "No! I don't want them!" The tantrum drew Julian in from the hallway.

He slid his phone into his pocket and crossed his arms. "Enough, Elara. The Bahamas are hot." "He won't need any of that stuff.

The three of us are hitting the mall tomorrow to buy him new gear anyway." He waved a hand dismissively. "You can stop packing." Chapter 2 One sentence.

That was all it took to wipe out my entire night of effort. I reached into the suitcase and pulled out the allergy meds I’d packed for Julian and Brooks.

If they didn't want my help, they weren't getting any of it.

When I dropped Brooks off at his afterschool program, he was already bragging to the other kids. "My mom and dad are taking me diving in the Bahamas!" A little boy glanced up at me. "Your mom doesn't look like she dives." Brooks dropped my hand. "Not this mom," he corrected, rushing to explain. "My other mom.

The prettier, younger one." He pointed a finger at the kid. "Just wait after class.

My mom is taking me to the mall to buy new clothes." Sure enough, when the bell rang, Brooks pointed straight at the RollsRoyce idling by the curb.

Skylar sat inside, her blowout perfectly styled. "That's my other mom!" Under the envious stares of his classmates, Brooks bolted toward Skylar. "Mom!" Skylar flashed a brilliant smile and hummed in acknowledgment.

Julian rested one hand lazily on the steering wheel. He chuckled. "Have some shame. You're a twentyyearold girl playing house." "What? You don't want to be my baby daddy?

Fine, I'll find someone else." Skylar raised an eyebrow.

Julian leaned over, wrapping an arm around her and pinching her waist. "Don't you dare." She melted against him, giggling. "I wouldn't, I wouldn't." The sound of their laughter drifted through the open window, scraping against my eardrums.

The two most important people in my life were orbiting Skylar like she was the sun. I turned my back.

For years, I had clung to the pathetic delusion that as long as I stayed, I would remain Julian’s true wife. That I could hold this broken family together for Brooks.

Now, the math was simple. I was the odd one out. The sky broke open on my walk home. A sudden downpour forced me under the plexiglass roof of a bus shelter.

The last time I rode a city bus, Julian and I had just graduated college, dragging our cheap suitcases behind us. There were no empty seats, so Julian made me sit on my luggage.

He gripped the overhead rail, his body forming a solid shield between me and the crowded carriage. Back then, we were heading to a cramped studio apartment.

Today, we owned a sprawling estate, but we were no longer heading in the same direction. A bus hissed to a stop in front of me. I stepped on.

Rain dripped from my hair, slicking up my fingers as I frantically swiped at my phone screen to pull up my transit pass. It wouldn't unlock.

The driver scowled, tapping his steering wheel. Right then, the screen lit up. Julian. He was calling. Again and again.

The vibration sent the slick phone slipping right out of my grip. It clattered against the floor.

Humiliated, I snatched it up and backed off the bus, stepping directly into the pouring rain. "Waste of time," the driver muttered, slamming the doors shut.

The bus peeled away, its massive tires sending a wave of dirty street water slapping against my jeans. Dark mud soaked into the denim. I answered the call.

Julian’s voice snapped through the speaker, heavy with irritation. "What are you doing? Why aren't you picking up?" "It's raining out here, I—" "Whatever." He cut me off.

He didn't actually care. "I'm just calling to tell you Brooks isn't eating at home tonight.

Skylar is taking the brat out for pizza." A rustling sound, then Julian’s voice shifted away from the mic. "Tell her yourself." Brooks’s piping voice filled my ear. "I'm getting pizza with Mom Skylar!

Don't make me that gross quinoa mush tonight. It tastes like dirt!" A burst of laughter followed. Skylar sounded smug. "See?

I told you no kid actually wants to eat quinoa, but you wouldn't believe me!" "Alright, you win," Julian said, his tone dripping with an indulgence he hadn't shown me in years. "You run the house from now on." I could perfectly picture Skylar’s triumphant smirk.

It was a universe away from the pathetic, mudsplattered woman standing in the freezing rain. "Got it," I said flatly. I hung up and shoved the phone deep into my coat pocket.

My frozen fingers brushed against something hard resting at the very bottom of the lining. Two cold coins. Chapter 3 The two coins triggered a memory.

Years ago, Julian had craved a caramel apple from a cashonly street cart a few blocks over.

I had gone completely out of my way, breaking a twentydollar bill just to get exact change for him. But he had forgotten all about it.

He left the caramel apple sitting on the kitchen counter, letting the sticky sugar melt into a hardened mess that took me hours to scrape off. A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

If a bus wasn't going to let me on, I wasn't going to stand in the rain and wait for the next one. I didn't go home. I walked straight to a lawyer's office.

That night, I sat on the living room sofa until ten o'clock. I waited until Julian carried a sleeping Brooks into his bedroom and clicked the door shut.

Then, I looked at him. "Julian, I'm done getting in the way of you and Skylar. Let's just end this quietly.

I want a divorce." His usually blank face twitched. "Elara, if this is about me missing your birthday this year, I'm sorry." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "But Skylar is still just a girl.

It's only right that I look out for her." I had been just a girl when I gave him my youth, too. I had drained myself dry for him until there was nothing left but skin and bone.

I shook my head slowly. "It has nothing to do with her. I just don't want to be married to you anymore." Julian’s knuckles turned white around his water cup. "I don't get it.

We've been doing this for five years. Why are you throwing a tantrum now?" His voice cracked like a whip in the quiet room. "We fly out tomorrow.

Do you really have to ruin tonight?" He slammed the cup onto the floor. It bounced against the hardwood. I just stared at it, silently thankful it was made of acrylic.

Julian grabbed his jacket and headed for the front door. "I'm going down for a smoke. Don't wait up." The door clicked shut. The next time I saw him was at the airport dropoff.

I handed Brooks over, coming facetoface with Skylar. She wore that same sickeningly sweet smile. "Hey, Elara. I practically had to kick Julian out last night so I could pack.

But he showed up at my place in the middle of the night anyway, clinging to me for hours.

Did you guys have a fight?" I looked at her with dead eyes. "Keep him." I gave Brooks a gentle push toward her.

My son happily latched onto Skylar’s hand. "Julian is so extra," Skylar giggled, twirling a strand of hair. "I told him we could just do something small for my birthday, but he insisted on taking me out of the country." I glanced over at Julian, who was busy checking their bags at the airline counter. "I'll make sure he throws you a proper makeup party when we get back," Skylar bragged, her eyes shining with triumph.

I swallowed a mouthful of ash. I couldn't compete with her youth. So, I was dropping out of the game entirely. Julian walked back over.

He took Skylar's hand, his fingers intertwining with her long acrylic nails. "Elara, we're heading in." A fleeting shadow of guilt crossed his eyes. "Text me your birthday wish.

If I can make it happen, I will." Brooks tugged at Julian's shirt. "Dad, hurry up! Stop talking to her!

I want to get on the big plane!" My son pulled his father and his father's mistress toward the security checkpoint, skipping the whole way. I went back to an empty house.

A heavy fever hit me hours later. My joints ached, and my vision swam as I dragged myself into bed. Shivering under the heavy duvet, I slipped into a hazy dream. Julian was there.

He was twenty again, holding my hand and flashing that goofy, dimpled grin. "Be good, wifey.

Take your medicine so you can get better." He lifted a mug of hot coldrelief powder to his lips, testing the temperature. "Perfect.

Drink up." A harsh, piercing ringtone ripped me out of the dream. I jolted awake. My sheets were soaked in cold sweat.

I fumbled for my phone and hit accept. "Hello?" My throat felt like sandpaper. "Elara, why didn't you pack the allergy meds?" Julian’s voice barked through the speaker. "You know the ocean breeze triggers Brooks's asthma and my sinuses.

Are you crazy?" His sharp tone dragged me fully back to reality. "Whatever," he snapped impatiently. "Just text me the name of the medicine. I'll go buy it myself.

You are so useless sometimes." The line went dead. The dial tone buzzed in my ear. My chest tightened. I gripped the sheets until my knuckles ached.

Hot tears, the ones I thought had completely dried up, finally spilled over my eyelashes and soaked into my pillow. The absolute weight of the truth pinned me to the mattress.

Julian and I were never going back. Chapter 4 I liquidated every shared asset and tallied up every cent of income from my marriage to Julian.

I wasn't going to fight for custody of Brooks. I only had one condition: Julian was never allowed to have another child. It was a promise he had made to me years ago, anyway.

I handed the stack of financial records over to my lawyer. The divorce papers were drafted in record time. Before making my final exit, I went to see Julian's mother.

Back in college, she used to make Julian bring me over for dinner, constantly piling food onto my plate. "Eat more, Elara.

You're too skinny." That single sentence had given an orphan like me the warmth of a real home. My marriage to Julian had felt like a natural progression.

We never had to suffer through the bitter struggles of young love.

That was exactly why I had swallowed my pride and endured the last five years of his infidelity, practically losing myself in the process.

When I stepped into the foyer, his mother was on FaceTime. She stared at the phone screen, a massive, uncontainable smile stretching across her face.

Julian and Skylar were on the other end. "You brat," his mother scolded playfully, "Skylar is still young.

Let her have her way." On the screen, Julian reached over and ruffled Skylar's hair. "She's young, but her temper is bigger than anyone's.

She gets mad if I just tell her to eat an extra bite of food." His mother's voice dripped with absolute adoration. "Skylar, you really do need to eat more.

Look how skinny you've gotten." My hand froze on the doorframe.

When his mother glanced up toward the entrance, I shoved my chin down to my chest, hiding the sharp, burning sting flooding my eyes. She lowered the phone. "Elara?

Come on in." "No, Mom," I rasped, taking a step back onto the porch. "I haven't taken my shoes off.

I won't come in." I popped open my umbrella and walked down the paved paths of the park Julian and I used to frequent in college.

Under the thickest oak tree, we had buried the hamster we raised for three years.

Julian had wiped my tears with his thumbs, teasing me for being a crybaby. "If I'm ever gone one day, how hard are you going to cry?" He threw the last handful of dirt over the tiny grave and pulled me into his chest.

I would never forget the soft, low rumble of his voice. "Elara, I'm always going to be with you." He knew better than anyone. My parents died when I was young.

I had navigated the world alone for over a decade. He had become my entire universe. But his universe was crowded.

I sat on a damp wooden bench, watching the digital clock on my phone screen flip.

At exactly midnight, I hit send on the PDF file. "Julian, this is my birthday wish." Less than a second later, the screen flashed. Julian calling.

I answered, and a violent scream ripped through the speaker. "Elara! Why the hell did you text me right now?!

I looked down at your bullshit message, and I let go of Skylar!" "She drowned! She's in the hospital!" He didn't take a breath. "I don't care what you're doing.

Get your ass over here right now and take care of her until she's out of the woods!" The call snapped off. A flight itinerary immediately popped into my inbox.

A 2:00 AM redeye, two layovers. The absolute fastest route to the Bahamas. By the time I walked into the hospital room, Skylar was awake.

Brooks was the first one to charge at me. "Bad mom! It's your fault Mom Skylar got hurt!" He slammed his little fists into my thighs. "I hate you!" I didn't flinch.

I just let him hit me. My eyes were locked on Julian. He clearly hadn't slept a wink.

Dark circles bruised his undereyes as he carefully tilted a paper cup to Skylar's lips. "Be good.

Drink some water so you heal up." Skylar peeked around him to look at me. "Elara, you actually came. I don't blame you, really.

I just suck at diving." She let out a weak, breathy sigh. "Three days of lessons and I still couldn't let go of Julian's hand.

I'm so stupid." "You can be stupid, I'll still take care of you.

I'm never letting go of your hand again." Julian's gaze was heavy, practically overflowing with raw, unfiltered devotion. "I was so terrified. I almost lost you.

If you were gone, Skylar, I wouldn't want to live either." Chapter 5 Julian rested his forehead against Skylar’s cheek.

Even though I had spent five years getting used to this exact sight, a hot sting still crawled up the back of my throat. The door pushed open.

A doctor walked in, flipping through a chart. "Skylar, your blood work confirms it. You're pregnant.

Roughly six weeks." All the air vanished from the room. "Oh my god!" Skylar shrieked, grabbing Julian's arm. "Julian, we're having a baby!" "No." My feet moved before my brain caught up.

I lunged forward. "Julian, what did you promise me?!" I threw a desperate look at Brooks, who was sitting in the corner, totally oblivious to how his entire world was shifting.

Julian’s face hardened. "Elara, do you really think you have the right to speak right now?" He grabbed my bicep. "Come here." He yanked me out of the room, dragging me into the sterile hallway. "You promised me," I gasped, digging my fingernails into my own palms. "You swore you would never have a kid with another woman!" Julian let out a cold scoff. "You got a kid out of me.

Why shouldn't Skylar get one?" "And what about Brooks?!" I shot back. "Your money, your company—is it going to him or her kid?

You think you can split that down the middle?!" "I can." His voice lost some of its bite.

I let out a shaky breath, thinking maybe I had finally gotten through to him. "Julian, I grew up with nothing," I pleaded, my voice cracking. "I refuse to let Brooks grow up feeling like he's been replaced.

Make her get rid of it." A sharp crack echoed through the corridor. My head snapped violently to the side.

The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. "Nobody," Julian hissed, his chest heaving, "is ever hurting Skylar again." My ears were ringing. I slowly turned my head back.

Julian pointed a rigid finger toward the elevator bank. "Get out. Get the hell out!" I dragged my thumb across my split lip. I stared at him. "Julian." "Today is my birthday.

You said you would grant my wish." "All I know is that today is Skylar's birthday," he spat, his eyes dark with sheer disgust. "I don't have time to look at whatever garbage you texted me.

Get out of my sight. I never want to see your face again." The hospital room door cracked open. Brooks ran out, mimicking his father's furious stance.

He pointed his little finger at me. "Get out! Get out!" I stared at the two of them.

Then, I let out a low, raspy laugh. "Okay," I whispered. "Remember you said this." I turned on my heel, walked out of the hospital, and executed the final gift I had prepared for Julian.

Half a month later, a phone call would connect to Julian’s executive office. "Is this Julian? This is the Bahamian General Hospital. We are calling to confirm a fatality.

The deceased is your wife, Elara." Word would later reach me that it took two men to carry him out of his boardroom after he dropped the phone.

But he had no idea the absolute hell I had crawled through to get to that point