Chapter 2 - Three Days Earlier
The birthday feast had begun with a text message.
Thirty guests. Saturday at three. Make the usual spread.
Claire read the message while sitting in the orthopedic clinic with her leg elevated. The doctor had just explained that the fracture would require six weeks of limited movement.
She called Donald immediately.
“I can’t host thirty people,” she said. “The doctor told me to stay off my leg.”
Donald sighed as though she had interrupted something important.
“It’s my fortieth birthday, Claire.”
“I know, but we can order food.”
“Catering costs too much.”
Claire looked at the invoice from the clinic resting in her lap. Donald had recently bought a new fishing boat without discussing it. The monthly payment alone was higher than the catering quote she had shown him.
“We can invite fewer people,” she suggested.
“They already said yes.”
“Then you’ll need to help.”
“I’m working all week.”
Donald worked from home, but Claire knew arguing about that would only lead to another cold silence.
When she returned from the clinic, she found boxes of decorations stacked in the hallway and a handwritten menu on the kitchen counter. Donald had added expensive steaks, imported cheese, handmade desserts, and a cocktail station.
At the bottom, he had written: Don’t make me look cheap.
Claire stared at the sentence for a long time.
Her injury had happened two days earlier when she slipped on the back steps while carrying groceries. Donald had been inside watching television. When she called his name, he came outside annoyed and asked why she had bought the wrong brand of coffee.
That night, Claire lay awake while pain pulsed through her leg.
Donald slept peacefully beside her.
She told herself the party was only one day.
May you like
She told herself she could manage.
She had been telling herself versions of the same lie for twelve years.
