Until Cece (Happily Ever Alpha World)

Her jaw drops. “Um, Cece.”

I sip my drink. “Mm hm?”

“That’s like… over a year ago.”

I shrug. “In the words of the great Elle Woods—‘What? Like it’s hard?’”

“Was he like… trying to initiate anything during that time, or do you think he was cheating all the way back then?” she asks, and my gut churns a little thinking about it.

“Well, on the rare occasion he would try to have sex, I wasn’t in the mood. At the end of the day after the girls went to bed, I’d be exhausted and would just want to go to sleep. Plus, it’s not like he was physically affectionate any other time of the day. No random hugs or kisses. No playful butt grabs or anything. Not that I wanted that anyway. Over the years, whether it was from having three kids climb all over me twenty-four seven or what, I didn’t really like being touched, sexually or otherwise. When Mike would try, it would seriously make my skin crawl. And I felt guilty for that, like I was the worst wife ever, but I didn’t do it on purpose.” I scoff. “No wonder he went and found someone else. I was a fucking ice queen.”

Mia slams down her glass, making me jump. “No, ma’am. You’re not doing that. If Mike had a problem with his wife not wanting physical intimacy, then he should’ve talked to you about it. He should have asked if you wanted to go… I don’t know, see a therapist or something. He shouldn’t have just gone out and found it from someone else. It’s not your fault he couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

“Understood,” I say, holding my hands up in defense.

“Good. Now. It’s always seemed to me like you were completely shocked by his infidelity. Since hindsight is 20/20, has anything registered in your mind now that could’ve hinted at the fact that he was cheating?” she asks curiously, sipping the last of her drink, and I refill it for her.

I shrug once again. “We fought… a lot.”

“Really?” Her voice shows her astonishment. “I don’t think I ever once saw you two fight. I don’t recall ever hearing you even bicker.” She pulls her puckered lips to the side as she ponders. “Now that I think about it, that’s weird, Cece. Very Stepford Wives.”

I touch my nose then point to her. “Ding, ding, ding! You nailed it. All arguing was saved for later, when we could do it in the privacy of our bedroom where we thought no one could hear us.”

“What did you fight about? What could he possibly have had to complain about?” she asks, rolling her eyes.

“He didn’t think I did enough with the girls, and—”

“What!” she yells, and I shush her.

“You’re gonna wake up the girls,” I hiss.

She slouches on her stool. “Sorry,” she whispers. “But what the fuck?”

“Instead of letting them spend time with me, learning how to cook, playing together, maybe watching TV and cuddling with them on the couch, he thought I should’ve been hauling them around to more extracurriculars instead of just the twice-a-week ballet class they were in. He didn’t see the value in them spending time with their mom instead of paying someone else to teach them things, since his parents always had his schedule packed full of tutors and golf coaches so they wouldn’t have to deal with him.” I shake my head. “They didn’t even take him to his classes themselves. They had his nanny do it, and it wasn’t because they both worked. His mom was too busy at the country club while his dad was always on ‘business trips.’” I put down my drink long enough to make air quotes.

Mia scoffs. “Well, we see how well that turned out for him. We may have daddy issues, but sounds like Mike might have some skewed sense of how you should treat your loved ones himself.”

My eyes instantly well at that, and through the tears, I see the immediate regret mask my sister’s face.

“Oh my God, Cece. I’m so—”

I cut her off. “No, no. It’s fine. It’s just… you’re right. I realized the other day that the whole reason I ran off at eighteen and got married and immediately had babies in the first place was because I was trying to fill some void that Dad left. There was this man-shaped hole in my life that for some reason I thought I needed to fill with a husband. Which is extra fucked up, because we had Chaz, who was more than deserving of the ultimate father-figure award.”

She reaches across the island and grasps the hand not brushing away the tears from my cheeks. “You were young. And Mike had us all fooled. He seemed perfect, this rich knight in shining armor who swooped in with promises of a fairy tale, while we were… not poor, but definitely not loaded by any means. We all thought he was too good to be true, and unfortunately it turned out we were right. It wasn’t just you, sis.”