The woman sitting across from me at my own birthday dinner wasn’t family anymore, but everyone at the table seemed determined to make me feel like I was the outsider. She laughed at something my fiancé said, reached across him for the bread basket, and reminded his mother about a story from a Christmas that had happened years before I ever met any of them. Then she smiled at me and said, “You don’t mind me stealing him for old-times stories, do you, Claire?”
Chapter 2
I called Daniel before I even started the car. He answered on the fourth ring, cheerful and distracted, until he heard my voice.
“Did you know Rachel booked our resort?”
Silence.
“Daniel?”
“No.”
“She’s going the same week.”
“Are you sure?”
I almost laughed. “She posted it publicly.”
He said he would call her, and twenty minutes later he called me back. I had driven home by then but was still sitting in the garage because I didn’t trust myself to go inside.
“She said she found the same deal,” Daniel told me.
“The same deal.”
“Yes.”
“At the same resort.”
“Apparently.”
“The same week.”
“Claire, I know how it sounds.”
“Do you?”
He sighed. “She said she researched the hotel after I mentioned it, and the price was good. She’s taking Lily.”
I gripped the steering wheel. “So she’s coming on our family vacation.”
“Not with us.”
“She’s staying at our resort.”
“It’s a big resort.”
That sentence made something inside me go cold.
I had spent two years hearing versions of it. It was a big party. It was only one dinner. It was for Noah. It would be awkward to exclude her. She didn’t mean anything by it. Why was I making such a big deal?
“I want to cancel,” I said.
“What?”
“The trip. Cancel it.”
“We can’t. The airfare is nonrefundable.”
“Then you and Noah can go.”
He sounded genuinely stunned. “You’re going to throw away a vacation over this?”
“No. Rachel turned it into something I don’t want to attend.”
“Claire, we don’t have to spend time with her.”
I pictured the breakfast buffet. The swimming pool. The beach. Noah seeing his mother and little sister across the resort and understandably wanting to run over. Daniel agreeing because refusing would make him feel guilty. Rachel joining us for lunch because the children were already together. Rachel asking what time we were going snorkeling. Rachel laughing beside Daniel while I sat there pretending again.
“She knew exactly what she was doing,” I said.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know she didn’t accidentally book the exact same resort during the exact same week after asking you for the details.”
“Okay, fine. It was weird.”
“Weird?”
“Yes, weird. But what do you want me to do? She’s an adult. I can’t forbid her from traveling.”
I closed my eyes.
For once, I wanted him to say, I’ll handle this.
Instead, he told me there was nothing he could do.
That evening, Noah was with Rachel, and the house felt strangely quiet. Daniel tried to behave normally. He made pasta, opened a bottle of wine, and asked whether I wanted to watch a movie.
I stared at him across the kitchen island.
“Do you understand why I’m upset?”
He set down the corkscrew. “Yes.”
“Tell me.”
His expression tightened. “Claire.”
“Tell me what you think the problem is.”
“You don’t like Rachel being around so much.”
“No. That’s part of it.”
“What else is there?”
“You never protect a space for me.”
He looked hurt. “That’s not true.”
“It is. Every time she crosses a line, you tell me I’m unreasonable for noticing the line.”
“She’s Noah’s mother.”
“And I am the woman you’re supposedly marrying.”
His face changed at that. “Supposedly?”
I touched the engagement ring on my finger.
Until that moment, I hadn’t realized I was doing it.
Daniel stared at my hand, then back at me. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Turn this into something bigger.”
I almost smiled because those words summarized our entire relationship.
Whenever Rachel entered a space that should have belonged to us, Daniel made my reaction the problem. When she showed up uninvited, I was insecure. When she included herself in plans, I was jealous. When Daniel refused to tell her no, I was dramatic.
He never had to choose because I always surrendered first.
“Tell her we’re not comfortable vacationing together,” I said.
He rubbed both hands over his face. “I’ll talk to her about boundaries for future things.”
“No. This.”
“She’s already booked it.”
“So?”
“So what am I supposed to say? ‘My fiancée doesn’t like you, so cancel your vacation’?”
My stomach turned.
“No. You say, ‘Rachel, I shouldn’t have given you our resort information. This was meant to be private time for me, Claire, and Noah. I need you to respect that.'”
Daniel walked away from the counter.
“It’s late,” he said. “We’re both upset. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I followed him into the living room. “That’s what you always do.”
“What?”
“You wait until I calm down enough to accept what you wanted in the first place.”
He turned. “That’s unfair.”
“Last June, we hosted Lily’s birthday because you told me it would mean a lot to Noah. At my birthday, you invited Rachel because you didn’t want her to feel left out. She came camping because Noah mentioned the trip and she thought it sounded fun. Every single time, I tell you it hurts me. Every single time, you ask me to let it go.”
He stared at me silently.
“Where does this stop?” I asked. “Is Rachel coming to our wedding?”
“Of course not.”
“Will she be in the wedding party because Noah wants her there?”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Will she come on our honeymoon because she finds the same deal?”
“Claire.”
“Will she be in the hospital if we have a baby someday because she’s practically family?”
“Stop.”
“No.”
My voice broke on that one word, and suddenly I was crying.
Not angry tears.
Exhausted ones.
“I am tired of feeling like I’m auditioning for a place in a family that was already complete before I arrived.”
Daniel stepped toward me. “You are my family.”
“Then act like it.”
He reached for me, but I backed away.
“Call her.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
He stared at me as though I had become unreasonable beyond recognition.
“I can’t force Rachel to do anything,” he finally said. “She’s not my wife anymore.”
The words landed differently than he intended.
I looked at him for a long moment.
“You’re right,” I whispered. “She’s not.”
Then why, I wondered, did I feel as if I was the other woman?
