I hired an actor to pose as my boyfriend after my ex announced he was bringing the younger woman he left me for to our son’s pool party. He laughed the moment he saw us together—but seconds later, one small gift box turned his smile into pure panic in front of everyone.
The house felt too quiet that morning.
It reminded me how empty twenty years of memories could sound.
I ran my fingers along the kitchen counter where Jordan used to leave his coffee mug.
Four children.
One marriage.
One life I thought I understood.
How empty twenty years of memories could sound.
I picked up the framed photo on the shelf.
I stared at the version of me who still trusted her husband.
“Mom, are you crying again?”
My oldest daughter stood in the doorway, hair pulled back, eyes soft with worry.
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just remembering.”
“You always say that.”
“Mom, are you crying again?”
I set the photo down.
I forced a smile that felt heavier than it should have.
“Because it’s always true. Now, come here. Your brother wants to talk about this pool party of his, and I need reinforcements.”
She crossed the room and hugged me.
For a moment I let myself lean into her.
“I need reinforcements.”
My son bounded in a second later.
He was already holding a crumpled list of names and plans.
“Mom, I want everyone there. The whole family, my friends from school, the neighbors. Everyone.”
“Everyone?”
“It’s my fifteenth birthday. It’s important.”
“I want everyone there.”
I watched his face light up the way it used to before the divorce.
“Then everyone it is.”
“Even Dad?”
The question landed like a stone in my chest.
“He’s still your father. Of course.”
My son nodded slowly.
“He’s still your father.”
“Okay. Thanks, Mom… Do you think he’ll actually come?”
I had no answer for that.
Jordan had missed out on a lot since he left us for his mistress.
“Let’s just send the invite and take it from there, okay?”
My son nodded.
He hurried off with his list, but my daughter lingered by the counter.
“Do you think he’ll actually come?”
She was watching me the way she watched storms roll in off the coast.
“You know he might bring her. If he comes.”
“I know.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
I wasn’t.
I hadn’t been okay with anything since the afternoon I stood in our bedroom holding our six-month-old baby and heard Jordan say the words that unmade me.
“You know he might bring her. If he comes.”
“I’m with Percy now. We’ve been together for over a year. I don’t want to waste any more time on a woman who’s no longer attractive to me.”
I remembered how the baby had shifted against my shoulder.
I remembered how my knees had locked so I wouldn’t fall.
“Mom?”
I blinked back into the kitchen.
“A woman who’s no longer attractive to me.”
“I’m okay, honey. Really. Your brother deserves a perfect day, and I’m going to give it to him.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She kissed my cheek and left.
I stood alone again with the mental list of things I had to buy, arrange, decorate, and pretend I could handle without breaking.
“Your brother deserves a perfect day.”
But first things first.
I texted Jordan to invite him to the party.
“Ethan wants the whole family there,” I typed.
A short while later, my phone buzzed on the counter.
I saw Jordan’s name light up the screen.
Something inside me tightened before I’d even read a single word of what he’d sent.
I texted Jordan to invite him to the party.
Jordan’s message was short and sharp.
“I’ll bring Percy. She’s part of my family too.”
I read it three times before the words fully landed.
My chest tightened.
I set the phone down and stared at the pool skimmer in the shallow end, trying to breathe.
“Mom, are you okay?”
I read it three times
My son stood in the doorway, wet hair plastered to his forehead.
I forced a smile.
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just finalizing details for your big day.”
He studied me for a moment longer than I wanted him to.
Then he disappeared back into the yard.
That look, the way my fifteen-year-old already knew when I was lying, it broke something loose inside me.
I forced a smile.
I couldn’t let Jordan walk in with Percy and reduce me to the sad, discarded wife.
Not in front of my children.
Not in front of the neighbors who had watched our family for twenty years.
I opened my laptop and searched for something I’d never imagined typing.
“Actors for hire, private events, discreet.”
An agency near downtown responded within the hour.
Something I’d never imagined typing.
The woman on the phone was efficient.
As if hiring a fake boyfriend was as ordinary as ordering catering.
“We have someone available Saturday. His name is Clark. Very professional.”
