The Next Wife by Kaira Rouda (speld decodable readers txt) 📕

That’s why I proposed to Tish in this very meadow. Was it really only three years ago? It seems like a different lifetime. I know I’m tired, and this damn altitude gets to me. It’s hard to catch my breath. I need time to adjust to everything.

Tish is trying her best to make me happy. I realize that. As I follow behind her on the path, I remind myself of all the fun we’ve had. How she makes me laugh, how she makes me feel young. How I told myself it was against all the rules to fall for her, but I did anyway. She is so pretty, so uncomplicated. I was overwhelmed with my life, with Kate and our constant fights about how to grow the company, how to raise Ashlyn. Tish was a beautiful escape. As if she senses my thoughts, she turns and gives me a smile.

“Isn’t this just perfect?” she asks.

“It is,” I manage.

It’s really not her fault at all. She never stirred the pot with Kate. No, she kept this thing between us quiet and discreet until I spoiled it, bragging about my new love to the wrong guys. Tish was great with my daughter from the get-go, making sure Ashlyn knew she had a friend. She didn’t have to be nice to Ashlyn—she did it because it was the right thing to do. And she helped smooth things out. At least, for a while.

It was so easy to fall in love with Tish. And she needed love. I could tell something was missing, something happened in her childhood in the backwoods of Kentucky. She won’t talk about it, but you can sense it, want to fix it. I thought I could fill that hole, and in return, she would bring me the peace I lacked in my life. We didn’t have all that history between us, not like Kate and me toward the end. Kate and I had nothing but fights, and company problems, and a teenage daughter tearing us apart.

And Tish? I suppose she pulled us apart without trying. Being there, being so damn there with her perky breasts, short skirts, always just smiling at me no matter how terse I was, no matter how frustrated I was with Kate. Tish was like running away to a private Caribbean island in the midst of stress and grown-up problems. A temptation I was too weak to ignore.

It’s not her fault. It’s all mine.

“Look at that waterfall.” Tish points into the mountains, and I pretend to care.

“Pretty.” I am such a fool. I threw everything I had away for pretty.

I remember telling Ashlyn I’d found true love. I’d moved out of our home, away from Ashlyn and Kate, and into a flashy condo on the sixteenth floor, overlooking the city. Tish loved it. Ashlyn hated every inch of the space.

“This is what people live in when they’re young, just starting out,” she’d scoffed, all sixteen years of wisdom looking at me with disdain as she walked in the door. How could she possibly know anything? She didn’t. I mean, the condo was no starter pad. I’d been there, done that with Kate, complete with cockroaches and mice in the kitchen drawer.

I’ll never forget that moment. Kate’s scream was so loud and urgent I thought someone was in the tiny kitchen murdering her. I ran from the front room into the kitchen to find my newlywed wife frozen.

“There’s something in there. With bright-red eyes.” She pointed to the closed kitchen drawer, her finger trembling.

I yanked the drawer open, revealing our measly collection of thrift shop silverware and nothing else.

“It’s gone.” I smiled. The hero.

“It’ll be back,” she answered, still shaking. “We have to move. Find another apartment. Or never use that drawer. All of those drawers.”

Kate was like that. Take charge. All or nothing. Black and white. Fearless in life and business. She went from top of her class at UCLA to running one of the best start-ups in the country. She was successful in everything she touched.

Until we started fighting about everything. Until I began to resent the fact that she was always right. Until I couldn’t bear it. Until I betrayed her.

Back then, I was her knight in shining armor, even though she didn’t need one. Except to handle the mice.

“We can’t afford to move. I’ll tape up the drawers.” I knew better than to come up with a solution that involved pesticides. She’d never agree to that. Or to a trap. And so we’d lived there another year, with taped-up drawers and hundreds of mice running throughout the old apartment’s walls. And we were so happy. Some days we’d be working so long, so intently, we’d forget to eat. Who needs silverware when you’re in love and building a business?

I had three drawers of real silver in the new penthouse Ashlyn stood inside that day. I shook my head, indignant at the time. How could she understand? She was only sixteen.

“This is a sophisticated penthouse, the finest on the market downtown. It’s certainly not a starter apartment, Ash.”

“You’re clearly having a midlife crisis.”

I held my ground. “No, that’s not true. I found my soul mate. I hope you’re as happy for me as I am. Tish and I are moving in together.” I didn’t even have a doubt as I told my daughter this. Not then.

Ashlyn had been seated on the sleek white leather sofa facing the view of the downtown skyline, but she stood and yelled: “Your soul mate just happens to be your assistant? Come on. You looked far and wide, not really of course, and suddenly your soul mate materialized at that desk. It was karma, is that it?” Ashlyn was angry, sure, but I wanted her to understand. To realize how happy I was. “Your soul mate babysat me! She’s four years older than me. Oh my god.”

When Ashlyn left, slamming the door behind her, I didn’t worry. We