Chapter 5: Matching Dresses, Shattered Peace

I didn’t get any answers from my buddy—if anything, I felt even more irritable.

The beer just left a bitter aftertaste. I drove home, radio off, city lights blurring through the windshield.

I still hadn’t given Aubrey a direct answer about whether I’d talked to Natalie about divorce.

I avoided her texts, let the unread messages pile up. The guilt was a constant knot in my gut.

Aubrey is a smart woman; she didn’t press me again.

She knew how to read silence, how to wait without waiting.

I found time almost every day to see Aubrey.

We met at that old Red Roof Inn by the interstate, the one with the flickering vacancy sign. Or sometimes in her minivan, parked by the river, windows fogged up and the radio playing some sad country song. Every moment felt stolen, dangerous, addictive.

Every time we met, it was for that one thing.

It was never just coffee or conversation. It was hands, lips, desperation—trying to fill a void that only seemed to grow.

Her figure and skin were still so well maintained—even softer than when she was twenty. I was obsessed with her body.

The way she moved, the scent of her perfume, the curve of her smile—she was a drug, and I was hooked.

And I was obsessed with the thrill of the affair.

It made me feel young, reckless, alive. It also made me hate myself a little more every day.

Back then, she probably got together with that rich guy behind my back just like this.

History repeating itself. I wondered if that should have made me angry, but instead, it just made me sad.

Now I was cheating on my wife with her.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. Maybe this was karma, or maybe I was just weak.

A twisted sense of revenge welled up in my heart.

I tried to convince myself I was taking back what was stolen, but deep down, I knew I was just running away.

She asked again when I would get a divorce. She said, “I won’t be anyone’s mistress. I only got back with you because you said your marriage wasn’t happy.”

Her eyes bored into mine, demanding an answer I wasn’t ready to give.

I quickly tried to reassure her. “I’m working on it. We have to take it slow—it’s not something you can rush. After all, it involves two families.”

My words felt empty, but I hoped they’d buy me time.

That day, Aubrey said she had to work late and couldn’t pick up her kids on time.

She sounded frazzled, apologetic. The stress in her voice was real.

She asked if I could help pick them up.

The request caught me off guard. I hesitated, but I couldn’t say no.

I realized they went to the same elementary school as my son—what a coincidence.

I laughed nervously, masking my surprise. What were the odds?

It really felt like fate. I was already picking up my son, so I could pick up her daughters too. Should I drop them off at your place?

The words tumbled out before I could think them through. Aubrey sounded grateful, relief in her voice.

“My mom isn’t home today, and I don’t feel safe having them there alone. Can you keep them at your place for now? I’ll pick them up after work.”

Her voice was pleading, tired. I could hear the weight she carried, juggling too many balls at once.

I hesitated for a moment.

I thought of Natalie, of the risk. My chest tightened.

Aubrey looked at me pitifully. “Is it not okay? I won’t say anything, just pick up the kids and leave.”

She gave me that look—half desperate, half trusting. I caved instantly.

Immediately, I felt guilty. “It’s fine, of course it’s fine! I’m just worried the kids might say something.”

The lie rolled off my tongue, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“Don’t worry, I already told them. They won’t say anything.”

She sounded so sure. I prayed she was right.

I brought Aubrey’s twin daughters home, telling Natalie they were a client’s kids and their mom would pick them up later.

Natalie didn’t question it, just nodded and welcomed the girls with open arms.

Natalie came home from work and warmly welcomed the twins.

She made them hot chocolate, found an old board game in the closet, and set them up at the kitchen table.

“Twins? They look exactly alike! I’m so jealous.” Natalie was clearly fond of the girls.

She ruffled their hair and complimented their matching dresses. The girls giggled, basking in the attention.

She kept praising how cute they were.

Natalie had always wanted a big family. She kept sneaking glances at the twins, her eyes shining.

She even said she dreamed of having twins herself.

She told me once, late at night, how she’d pick out names for two girls, just in case.

The twins said, “Aunt Natalie, you gotta have the twin gene. If it’s not in your family, it’s not happening—no matter how much you wish.”

Their words were innocent, but the sting was real. Natalie’s face fell, just for a second.

Natalie’s smile froze, clearly unhappy.

She covered it quickly, but I knew her well enough to see the hurt.

She pulled me aside to complain, “Which client of yours has twins? What’s wrong with them—such rude kids.”

She kept her voice low, but the irritation was obvious. She hated when kids were blunt.

“Kids just say whatever comes to mind. Don’t take it personally, honey.”

I tried to brush it off, but my nerves were shot. I avoided her eyes.

Natalie pouted, “Let’s have twins too! There’s a town in Minnesota with a special well—if you drink the water, you’ll have twins. Let’s go!”

She nudged me playfully, trying to lighten the mood. I managed a weak chuckle.

I laughed and pinched her nose. “That’s just a rumor. You actually believe that?”

She stuck out her tongue, rolling her eyes. "A girl can dream, right?"

That night, Aubrey came to pick up her daughters on time.

She breezed in, perfume lingering, her hair perfectly done. She smiled at Natalie, cool and polite.

She was wearing the Michael Kors dress and Jimmy Choo shoes I’d bought for her. Natalie happened to have the same Michael Kors dress and was wearing it that day, along with the same shoes.

It was like a scene from some awkward sitcom—two women, same dress, same shoes, in my living room. My palms started to sweat. Even the twins went quiet, eyes bouncing from one woman to the other like a tennis match.

One was in the living room, one was at the door.

For a second, it felt like time stopped. The twins fell silent, even the cartoons paused on the TV.

When the two women locked eyes, the atmosphere instantly turned icy.

The temperature dropped, invisible daggers flying between them. My throat went dry.

Both Natalie and Aubrey looked at me at the same time.

Their gazes pinned me to the spot. In that moment, I realized just how thin the ice really was.

Immediately, my heart leapt into my throat.

I swallowed hard, wishing I could disappear, knowing nothing would ever be simple again. Someone had to break the silence. I just prayed it wouldn’t be me.