My Escape From Two Tyrants

On our seventh wedding anniversary, Emerson's friend introduced a college student to the club for him. Emerson, usually so detached, actually smiled as he pulled the young woman close, murmuring in her ear, "Just like her, even the scent."

This student bore a striking resemblance to his elusive first love. Watching him lose himself in an ardent kiss with her, my heart turned to ice. This marriage is over. I can't keep on like this.

"I knew you were still fixated on Saoirse, so I found you a lookalike," laughed Emerson's friend loudly. Emerson had Isabelle comfortably on his lap, whispering by her ear.

Rooted to the spot, a deep chill seeped through my body. Ever since Isabelle arrived, not a single person, especially Emerson, seemed to care about my feelings. He chuckled, "It's true, I can't forget her, but aren't you worried about how my wife might react, bringing someone like this right in front of her?"

His friend laughed as if it was the best joke he'd heard. "Come on, everyone knows Alice is head over heels for you. She wouldn't care how many women are around. Right, Alice?"

All eyes suddenly turned to me. Isabelle, cheeks blushed like ripe apples, smiled sweetly. Her dimples, so much like Saoirse's.

"Sis, you're not upset, are you?" Isabelle's wide, innocent eyes locked onto me, pretending to get up from Emerson's lap.

He pulled her back snugly. "You haven't done anything wrong, darling, no need to feel bad." With that, he cupped her face and kissed her with a noisy smack.

My fingernails dug deep into my palms, my entire body trembling. Today marked seven years since Emerson and I tied the knot. Until now, he had always been good to me. I knew he couldn't forget Saoirse, but I thought after seven years, he would move past it and love me. I was so wrong.

With a loud crash, I shattered a bottle of wine on the floor. As Emerson let go of Isabelle, all eyes were on me. "Do I look like a fool?" I asked, my voice steady.

"I love Emerson," I continued. "But that doesn’t mean you can walk all over me."

The room went silent for a moment before Emerson’s friend chuckled, "Are you actually mad, Alice? Don't be so petty. I just wanted to cheer him up a bit. Isabelle's sweet and young—what's wrong with Emerson enjoying himself a little?"

Emerson’s gaze was icy as he said, “There’s a time and place for your outbursts. Who I spend my time with isn't your business. Just do your duty as Mrs. Gordon.”

Tears slipped from my eyes, each one burning a hole in my chest. “Emerson, today was supposed to be a celebration for us. We made it through seven years.”

“I thought you’d keep your promise, but instead, you've shocked me beyond belief.”

When we married, he promised we’d officially register after seven years. I asked why at the time, but he never explained. For