Trophy Husband Read Free

that drummed through my brain for the better part of the last
twelve months, like an insistent hum in the pipes you can’t turn
off. Amber, Amber,
Amber . The woman he wanted. The woman he
chose. I will never hear that name without thinking of all that she
has that I don’t. The man I once wanted to marry.
    “You know, why don’t we just get a new
table?” she says to Todd.
    He scans the restaurant. This is the last
empty table. “There’s no place else to sit,” he says, and it’s
clear he has no intention of leaving.
    What’s also clear is that he’s the only of
us – him and me – who doesn’t care that he ran into his ex-fiancé.
That realization smacks me hard, but it reminds me that I need to
pull myself together and channel whatever reserves of steely
coolness I have in me.
    “It’s fine. I’m almost done anyway,” I
manage to say even though my food hasn’t arrived.
    “So how’s everything going with you?” He
reaches for a menu and scans it. He doesn’t even look at me while
he’s talking. It’s not because he’s rude. It’s because I am nothing
to him. There’s a stinging feeling in the back of my eyes. I
tighten my jaw. I won’t let them see me cry.
    “Great. The blog is great. The dog is great.
Life is great,” I say, pretending I am a robot, an unfeeling robot
who can spit out platitudes. I have to. I have to protect my heart
because it feels like it’s being filleted. “I see you like this
place now?”
    “I love it. Favorite diner in the whole
city.”
    My throat catches, and I grit my teeth.
“That’s great. And such great news about the hard-boiled eggs
too.”
    He gives me a curious look.
    “Nothing. It’s nothing.” I affix a plastic
smile when the waitress brings me my food. She turns to Todd and
Amber. They order as I slide my laptop into my bag and consider
ditching the place right now. Who needs food when there are
ex-fiancés and their new wives to remind you of all that was stolen
from you?
    “And I’ll have a coffee too. No more soda in
the morning for me,” he adds before the waitress leaves.
    The burning behind my eyes
intensifies. It’s just coffee, I tell myself. But he used to hate coffee. He detested it, and now
he’s drinking it instead of Diet Coke.
    He turns his attention back to Amber. “But
no coffee for you still,” he says to her in a babyish voice. She
smiles at Todd as he lays a hand gently on one of hers. I try my
hardest to mask the all-too familiar feeling of my insides being
shred by him. God, I loved this man. I was a fool, but I loved him
like crazy, I fell for him the day I met him randomly at a bus stop
several years ago. He was mine, and he was wonderful, and he was
the only one I wanted.
    “Well, it was great seeing you,” I say, and
start to push my chair away.
    “You’re leaving?”
    “Yeah. I totally forgot that I ate a bagel
already today. Stupid me.” I smack my forehead, as if I’m shocked
at my own forgetfulness.
    “I do that sometimes too,” Amber says.
“Forget stuff. I think it’s because I have baby brain right
now.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Oh,” she says, and there it is again. That
long expression of surprise.
    Todd nods several times. “We had a baby. Two
weeks ago.”
    My heart races into a very
painful overdrive of disbelief as it pounds against my chest. This
can’t be happening. Todd clasps his hand over Amber’s and she beams
at him, and that smile, for her, just for her, threatens my
precarious sense of I’m-totally-fine-with-being-ditched-the-day-before-our-wedding.
    “We have a little sweet little baby girl.
Her name is Charlotte.”
    The diner starts spinning and I grab the
edge of the table. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping, praying that’ll
do the trick and hold in the tears that are threatening to splash
all over my face. He changed everything for her, all the way from
children to breakfast choices. And he took everything from me,
including our name for a baby he wound up having a year