Page 5 of Blindsided
“Please, Kori, let’s talk about this.” She’s crying now, mascara tracking down her cheeks. “The party is in six hours. All our friends and family—”
I laugh, a hollow sound that doesn’t belong to me. “You think I care about the party right now? That I want to stand next to him, pretending we’re celebrating our love, when all this time—” I can’t finish the sentence.
My phone buzzes again. Another message from Mrs. Spencer: “Sorry, dear, I was trying out the camera on my new phone and happened to come across them. I thought you should know.”
Tears stream down my face as I back away from her, from the decorations, from the celebration of a marriage that was apparently a joke to the two people I trusted most.
“Kori, please—”
“Don’t.” I hold up my hand. “Just don’t.”
I turn and head for the exit, my vision blurred by tears. Behind me, I hear the soft tap of Lana’s footsteps as she follows, her voice pleading, but I can’t bear to look at her. Not now. Maybe not ever again.
My phone buzzes again in my hand. Mark. “Can’t wait to see you tonight, babe. Five years strong!”
I feel like I’m going to throw up. Five years of what, exactly? I wonder how many other women there have been. How many times has my sister betrayed me? The lilies and daisies blur through my tears as I push through the double doors of the hall, leaving behind the anniversary celebration that now feels like nothing but an elaborate lie.
How many times did he go on a work trip while I stayed home? Hell, I wasn’t even a stay-at-home parent; he just wanted me at home. At first, I loved the freedom of not having to work every day, but after a while, I felt stifled. Having given up my job as a marketing executive had seemed like a good idea when Mark convinced me three years ago.
“You don’t need to work,” he’d said. “I make more than enough for both of us.”
I remember how his words had felt like a gift then. No more sixty-hour weeks, no more stress. But now I see it differently. He hadn’t wanted to free me—he’d wanted to control me.
Standing here in the parking lot, I realize how much I’ve lost—my career, my independence, myconfidence. I’d become the perfect, docile wife who managed his social calendar and kept his house spotless while he ‘networked’ at conferences. Conferences where Lana often accompanied him as his company’s event coordinator.
God, how blind I’ve been.
I climb into the car, my fingers trembling as I start the engine. I need to go somewhere —anywhere — that isn’t filled with reminders of them. My phone buzzes again—Lana is calling now. I silence it and toss it onto the passenger seat.
The road blurs before me as I drive aimlessly, memories flooding back with sickening clarity, how Mark discouraged me from pursuing a new job when I mentioned feeling restless. How he’d suggest I focus on “our future family” instead, though he always found reasons to delay trying for children.
No longer able to see the road, I pull into a small park. Of course, it had to be where we once had a picnic in the early days. Before the marriage. Before he slowly chipped away at everything that made me, me.
An older woman walks by with her dog, giving me a concerned look. I must be a sight—mascara-streaked face, clutching the steering wheel like it’s the only solid thing left in my world.
My phone lights up with another text. Not Mark or Lana this time, but Jennifer.
“Hey, need help with anything for tonight?”
Jen. The one who warned me about Mark’s wandering eyes years ago. The friend I’d gradually seen less of because Mark always had some reason why we shouldn’t get together. The same one that I had to cancel her birthday plans just yesterday because of Mark.
I pick up the phone and call her instead of texting back.
“Kori?” she answers immediately. “What’s up?”
“The anniversary party is off,” I say, my voice steadier than I expected. “Mark’s been cheating on me. With Lana.”
The silence on the other end speaks volumes.
“You knew,” I whisper, a fresh wave of pain washing over me.
“I... suspected,” she admits carefully. “But I didn’t know for sure, and I didn’t want to hurt you without proof.”
I laugh bitterly. “Well, Mrs. Spencer next door sent me proof today. Photos of them in our house.”
“Oh, Kori. I’m so sorry. Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”
I look around at the empty park. “I don’t even know what to do now, Jen. I gave up everything for him. My career, my independence...”
