My Husband Took Another Woman on a Bridal Photo Shoot

I'd been married to Cecil Smith for eight years. He was the youngest wedding planner in the country, yet our own wedding had been thrown together in a rush. I'd asked him about it many times. Each time, he'd take my hand and say the same thing. "Nora, once I make it into the Best of Weddings Hall of Fame, I'll give you a wedding the whole city will talk about. "I'll make sure everyone knows you're the wife I'd do anything for." He said it like he meant it, so I believed him. I gladly stayed up late rewriting proposals with him and worked alongside him on-site. When he needed cash to keep the business going, I sold the house my mother had left me. My coworkers would see how worn out I was and smile at me with a hint of mockery. "Mrs. Smith is so lucky. With a husband like Mr. Smith, who knows how spectacular that wedding is going to be." "Once the photos are up, we're all going to be very jealous of you." Then, on the day Cecil finally made the Hall of Fame, everyone crowded around a phone and gasped. He'd posted a photo on Instagram from a snow-covered mountain. It showed two passports and a wedding gown. Everyone assumed he'd finally taken me abroad for our bridal photo shoot. That was when I walked into the office with my suitcase. They stared for a few seconds. Then the questions came, their voices oddly hesitant. "Mrs. Smith, what are you still doing here?" "Don't tell me you weren't the woman Mr. Smith took with him." Chapter 1 I stood in the chilly lobby with my suitcase, my palms damp with sweat. The big screen displayed a screenshot of the mountain photo Cecil had posted on Instagram minutes earlier. On the snowy summit, Cecil had his arm around Daria's shoulders. They wore matching red parkas. Daria was holding two passports and laughing, her eyes crinkled shut, while a white wedding gown was draped over the suitcase behind them. The people gathered around the screen buzzed with excitement. "God, Mr. Smith is so romantic. He flew her overseas just to take bridal photos on a mountain." "And that gown is obviously custom-made. I'm so jealous." I walked a few steps closer, my heels clicking sharply against the floor. They turned at the sound, saw who it was, and the lobby went dead quiet. Daria's assistant, Kayla, awkwardly put her phone away and gave me an odd look. "Oh. Mrs. Smith. What are you still doing here? "Weren't you the one Mr. Smith took overseas?" I looked at the curious, gleeful faces around me, my knuckles white around the suitcase handle. That suitcase was full of clothes I'd stayed up late packing so I could go abroad with him. Daria joined the firm a year ago. Back then, she was a small-time model who could barely walk a runway. Cecil took her to castings himself and taught her how to work the camera. Later, Daria hurt herself during a depressive episode, and Cecil's concern for her went far beyond what was appropriate for an employer. The day I was hospitalized for gastrointestinal bleeding, Cecil was at a therapist's office with Daria. On my thirtieth birthday, he'd already bought the cake. Then Daria cried on a rooftop, and that was all it took to make him turn around and leave. Every time, he shut me down with the same excuse: Daria needed him, while I was too strong to need anything. I used to be certain the man who had spent eight years building this with me would never change. He had done so much for me over those years. When my mother died and I couldn't get out of bed, he canceled every job he had and stayed with me. When I got sick, he took care of me around the clock. He once saved six months' worth of pay just to surprise me with a necklace I'd mentioned liking in passing. So when he said he'd give me the grandest wedding imaginable once he made the Hall of Fame, I didn't doubt him for a second. Now the trophy sat in his office, yet he'd gone to a mountain in another country to keep that promise to someone else. My phone rang. Cecil. I answered. Before I could speak, his irritated voice came through the phone. "Nora, why are you making a scene at the office? "Daria's assistant says you brought a suitcase to the office. What's that supposed to mean?" I looked around at all the whispering and kept my voice down. "Cecil, why didn't you tell me you were going abroad?" "This is work." He sounded exhausted, as if he were talking to an unreasonable child. "Don't you understand how important this mountain shoot is to the firm? Daria's in a bad place. She can only find inspiration in extreme environments." "And the passports? The gown? Are those for work too?" The line went silent for a few seconds. Then he sighed. "Nora, when did you become so unreasonable? "The passports are Daria's. The gown is a prop the sponsor sent. "Stop being suspicious of everything. It's exhausting." I gripped the phone, my eyes painfully dry. "Our wedding is on the eighteenth of next month. "Can you be back for it?" His voice softened as if he were trying to calm me down. "Of course I'll be back. Nora, I'm going to keep my promise. Trust me. This job matters right now. Just sit tight." He hung up. The abrupt silence grated in the quiet office. I looked at the mountain photo on the screen, and for once, I didn't scramble to make excuses for him. I let go of the suitcase handle. Something inside me had shattered for good. Chapter 2 I got home, pushed the door open, and the smell of lilies hit me. Daria's favorite flower. Our bedroom door stood open. The photo of Cecil and me that had hung on the wall was gone. In its place was a portrait of Daria. In the closet, my clothes lay in a pile on the floor while Daria's slip dresses hung neatly from the rod. Daria's antidepressants and skincare products sat on the vanity. Footsteps behind me. I turned, and there was Cecil. He looked travel-worn, fresh from the airport. "So you came." "What is all this?" I pointed at the mess on the floor, trying to keep my hand steady. "Daria moved in," he explained flatly as he took off his coat. "She's had a severe relapse. The doctor says she shouldn't be alone. This room gets plenty of natural light, and it's quiet. It's good for her recovery." "So you put her in our bedroom?" It was absurd. "This is where we started our married life, and you put this room together yourself!" In the early years, we couldn't afford to rent anything decent. Cecil sat in this bedroom and sketched out our future, line by line. He said that when we had money, this would be our home for the rest of our lives. And now he had handed it to another woman without a second thought. "It's just one room. We have plenty of others. Don't get hung up on things that don't matter. "Daria is sick. She needs someone to take care of her." Then Daria came in. She wore loose silk pajamas, her hair still damp from the shower. When she saw me, alarm crossed her face, and she shrank behind Cecil. "Nora, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take your room. "Cecil said I'd feel safer sleeping in here. "He got the medication and the pajamas for me. Please don't blame him." She tugged at the hem of his shirt, and her eyes reddened instantly. Cecil stepped in front of her at once. "Nora, Daria is only staying for a while. She'll move out soon. Don't be petty about it." "Move her to the guest room." I kept my voice even. "No. The guest room doesn't face south. It doesn't get enough light, and that won't help her recover." He flatly refused. Daria clutched her chest and started gasping for breath. I watched him panic over her, and my stomach turned. "Cecil, what about me? "You threw my things on the floor and brought another woman into my house. Did you think about me once?" "Enough!" he cut me off impatiently. "You can't stay here. Once Daria is stable, I'll come get you." He was actually throwing me out. I rushed to the wall, tore Daria's portrait down, and smashed it on the floor. Glass everywhere. "Nora, have you lost your mind?" Cecil shouted. I pointed at the door. "She's the one who should go! This is my house!" Daria burst into tears. Cecil shoved me. I hit the corner of a cabinet, and the pain brought tears to my eyes. He didn't even look at me. He called his assistant in. "Pack Nora's things and take her to the apartment." The assistant practically forced me out the front door. As the door closed, I heard Cecil say to Daria in his gentlest voice, "Don't be scared. She's gone. Nobody can hurt you now." I stood in the cold wind, staring at the closed door, and something inside me finally died. Chapter 3 The next day, I went into the office as usual. For eight years, I'd handled every account and every client. A failed marriage wasn't going to cost me my career. But when I got to my desk, there was nothing on it. My computer and my files had been boxed up and stacked in a corner. Kayla was sitting in my chair. "Nora. You're here." She stood, looking awkward. Cecil came out of his office holding a cup of coffee. "Good, you're here. Start handing everything over." I looked at him and pointed at the box. "What handover?" "Daria will take over from here. You've been unstable lately. You shouldn't be anywhere near the major projects," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Cecil, have you forgotten we started this firm together?" I forced down my anger. "To land our first client, I drank so much with that client that my stomach bled. I know the entire client list by heart. What gives you the right to make me hand it all over with a single order?" Cecil frowned. "Nora, think about the bigger picture. Daria has a strong public image right now. With her as the face of the firm, we can attract major sponsors. "And you'll get to rest at home. Wouldn't that be better?" Daria walked over holding a teacup, a faint smile on her face. "Nora, Mr. Smith is only doing what's best for you. Major clients are demanding, and you aren't young anymore. How can you keep handling all those late nights? "Leave the client-facing work to me. You can take it easy behind the scenes." She put a document in front of me. The heading read: Resolution to Change the Firm's Public-Facing Lead. Cecil had already signed it. I looked at that signature, and the irony of it was hard to swallow. Cecil once held my hand and said, "Nora, I feel most at ease knowing you're behind the scenes. You're the only person I can count on." And now he was using the same line to strip me of everything. "And if I don't sign?" I looked at him. Cecil's face went cold. "Nora, don't make me embarrass you in front of the staff. You can't control yourself. After the scene you made at home last night, I can't put our clients at risk." Everyone in the room turned to look. Some of the newer employees were plainly enjoying it. As far as they were concerned, the boss's wife had lost her standing. And Daria was poised to become the next Mrs. Smith. Daria saw their reactions and bit her lip as if she were the one who'd been hurt. "Nora, if you really don't want this, I'll leave. I don't want to come between you and Mr. Smith." Her eyes reddened, and she swayed slightly. Cecil tensed at once and reached out to steady her. Then he turned and announced to the room, "As of today, Daria has full authority over external communications for all the firm's projects. If anyone objects, speak now." Nobody said a word. I looked around the place I'd devoted eight years of my life to and no longer recognized it. "All right." I pulled the box toward me. I set my desk key down hard on the table. "Cecil, I hope you don't regret this." For a moment, he looked shaken by how determined I was. But he pushed the feeling aside. "Behave yourself, and the wedding will go ahead as planned when I get back next month. "I'll make it up to you." I didn't answer. I picked up the box and walked out without looking back. Chapter 4 After I left, I blocked all of Cecil's numbers and accounts. But some of the employees who'd been there the longest messaged me privately. The first thing Daria did after taking over was remove anyone close to me from key positions. She even volunteered to plan my wedding to Cecil herself. One of them texted me. "Nora, Daria isn't helping you. She's replaced every person on the wedding team with her own people. Even the officiant and the day-of coordinator." I read all of it and said nothing. Because I knew what Daria wanted. Cecil sent me more than a dozen emails from the firm's account. "Nora, I know you're angry. But everything I'm doing is for our future." "To make it up to you, I've had Daria order the French couture gown you love, the three-hundred-thousand-dollar one." "On our wedding day, I'm going to make you the happiest woman alive." He thought one gown would smooth over all of it. He put Daria in charge of the gown. When Daria was given the task, she laughed coldly in the office. "Since when does that bitch Nora deserve a gown that expensive?" One of the longtime employees recorded it and sent me the audio. When I didn't respond for a long time, Cecil started to worry. He sent Kayla, one of Daria's people who had just been promoted, to check on me. Following Daria's instructions, Kayla told him, "Nora's doing fine. She's been resting. She says she's looking forward to the wedding and that you should focus on the work over there." That put him completely at ease. He started posting one wedding-prep detail after another on Instagram. "Three days out. Nora, wait for me." And the day before the wedding, Daria had everyone working at the venue call her Mrs. Smith. The day of the wedding. The most expensive hotel in the city. The room looked spectacular, exactly as I'd sketched it years ago. Cecil stood at the end of the aisle in a custom suit. He had the ring in his hand and the smile of a man who had everything. He assumed that after the wedding, I'd come back as I always had and continue being the woman behind him. The doors opened. The processional began. A veiled figure in the three-hundred-thousand-dollar gown walked slowly down the aisle. The smile on Cecil's face slowly froze as he noticed her build and the way she walked.