I lift my empty glass. “Baby, can you get me some more champagne?”
Aiden looks poleaxed. This isn’t who I am. I don’t make him do things for me.
For one holiday only, see Mia Winter (née Rayburn) as Foxy Wife.
He takes my glass with a half-smile and walks to the bar.
Nelson arches an eyebrow and stands with an arm around his wife, giving me a measured look. “How many Christmases since we’ve had you with us?”
Oh boy!A year ago. Hell, a few months ago, this kind of thoughtless remark would have gutted me. Today, I’m the one who will do the gutting.
“Six. Can you believe it?” I keep my tone saccharine sweet. “Like mildew, right? Hard to scrub out.”
My mother-in-law chokes on her drink. It’s the sweetest sound ever.
Winter Family: 0. Mia: 3.
My future ex-father-in-law’s chuckle is automatic, and then he pauses, replaying what I just said. But the moment has passed, and my husband has returned with my champagne. He can feel the tension in the room. Usually, this is because Nelson is berating one of his children, humiliating them—but this time it’s because of me.
They don’t know what to do with me now.
They’re used to me: small, soft, agreeable. The perfect little outsider trying to prove she deserves a seat at their long, gleaming table.
But I’ve realized something: I never wanted to be part of their cold little kingdom. I only ever wantedhim.And now I don’t.
The moment breaks, and everyone goes back to their usual roles.
Except, I feel the heaviness of my husband’s gaze on me. He’s watching. Trying to read me. I know that look. It’s the same one he gave me the first time we fought. He was confused, angry, just a little afraid, and not sure what to do withangryMia.
Good. He should be afraid.
Because the old Mia who bent herself in half to be palatable didn’t make the trip to Stowe this year.
I turn, bravely, to let my gaze touch his, so he can seeme. He nods, then looks away just in time for the last guest of the Winter family to arrive.
“Diana, darling, so glad you could make it,” Edith announces as she floats across the room, arms extended as her future daughter-in-law steps into the living room.
I straighten as the family is all hugs and kisses with the woman with whom my husband is having an affair. He stands apart, smiling at Diana. It’s she who steps up to him and kisses his cheek, stays a little longer, whispers something. He nods, but I can see the tension in his face.
A thought strikes me, chills me.
Here I was preparing my little present for him, but what if they were planning to tell me about their affair? That Aiden has his own set of divorce papers ready for me to sign?
So what? You’ll get what you want. You’ll walk out of here with your head high. His cheating on you ishisshame, not yours.
Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I’ll be able to believe it.
I walk to Diana and give her the air kisses nonsense. “You look amazing,” I gush. It’s so fake that my teeth hurt.
Everyone can see it, feel it. Well, whatever, this is how they talk to one another, why shouldn’t I do it as well? Why do I have to stay authentic in a roomful of snakes?
“Thanks, Mia. I wore this for our company Christmas party.” She turns to look at my husband, flushes. “Everyonethought it looked good, so I decided to wear it one more time this holiday season.”
Oh, Diana. Today is not a good day to yank my chain.
I swirl my champagne, catching my reflection in the window. I look good—hair curled, eyes sharp, red dress hugging every dangerous curve. This version of me isn’t begging for love or attention.
“Aiden told me how much he loved your outfit.” I place a hand on her shoulder, and I can see tension emanate from Aiden. “He’s so grateful for how you’ve taken the mantle of CFOandChief Moral Officer.”
