The Golden Anniversary Lie
I expected fond smiles. Instead, they looked at me as if Id served them poison. My son, Ben, shook his head. "Mom, look at me and Maya. We're not married. Don't you understand why?"
I stared, bewildered. "Why? Your father and I have been through fifty years together."
Maya shot to her feet. "Fifty years as his mistress?" she shot back, her voice shaking. "Fifty years with no name, no rights, raising two illegitimate children while another woman shared him as your equal? You call that a golden anniversary? Id rather be alone!"
Rage flared in me. Crack. My palm struck her cheek. Maya clutched her face, eyes blazing with tears. Those eyes were screaming, Hes not worth it.
A wave of vertigo hit me. I clutched my chest, a sharp pain lancing through my heart, and crumpled to the floor. All that came out was a choked gasp and the coppery taste of blood.
1
"Mom! Mom, don't scare me!" Maya cried, her anger instantly replaced by panic.
I grabbed her arm, my voice a desperate rasp. "You think he doesn't love me? Your father? After fifty years, you think there was never any love?"
She turned her face away, unable to meet my eyes.
I violently shook off the hand she offered to help me up and scrambled toward the hospital bed. I seized Danny's frail, withered wrist, the skin a roadmap of needle marks and faded bruises.
I leaned in close, staring into his clouded eyes, my voice a raw shout. "Danny! Don't you love me? Huh?"
"In high school, you skipped breakfast every day to save up and buy me a rose. In winter, you knitted me a scarf and warmed my hands in yours. In college, you worked all summer to buy me a ring... Have you forgotten all that?"
"Say something! Answer me!" I shook him with all my strength, but not a single sound could escape the tube in his throat.
He'd endured five major surgeries this year alone. The handsome, strong man I once knew was gone, replaced by a fragile skeleton trapped in this sterile white bed. Hed had two women in his life, and children from both. But in the end, the only one here, tending to him day and night, was me.
"How dare you say you don't love me? Speak!"
I slapped him, once, then again, the sound sharp in the sterile room, my hands striking his hollowed-out cheeks. "You liar! You've lied to me my whole life! Give him back to me... Give me back the Danny I knew when I was twenty!"
His head lolled to the side from the force of the blows. He couldn't move, but his old eyes slowly, painfully, turned back to me.
And then, large, cloudy tears began to roll down his temples, quickly soaking the white hair at his sides.
Maya wrapped her arms around me from behind, her voice choked with sobs. "Mom, stop! Please, stop! He can't talk!"
My mouth was open, but I couldn't breathe. The world swam before my eyes. All I ever wanted was to fool myself for a lifetime.
2
Danny had two women in his life.
We grew up on the same block, in a rough part of town. Childhood sweethearts, inseparable.
The year we graduated, Danny's academic excellence landed him a coveted position as a senior aide to Chairman Sterling, the head of the Sterling Corporation.
The other woman was the Chairmans secret, illegitimate daughter.
On my twenty-second birthday, I accepted Dannys proposal.
The very next day, I was taken.
The kidnappers demanded a twenty-million-dollar ransom, or they would kill me. But Danny and I were just kids, fresh out of school. Twenty million was an impossible sum. To prove they were serious, theyd sent him my ring finger, the engagement ring still on it.
Danny knelt before Chairman Sterling for a day and a night, begging.
He came back with a check for twenty million dollars. And he brought me home.
The price was a night with the Chairmans daughter, Eleanor Sterling.
On his deathbed, Chairman Sterling used that twenty million to secure a stable future for his illegitimate daughter. He saw Danny's talent and ambition. He entrusted him with the entire Sterling Corporation, and with Eleanor.
I was in agony. I struggled. The man I loved now had a woman who would be by his side for life. I should have wished them well and disappeared.
But every time I made up my mind to leave him for good, Danny would appear. Sometimes drunk, sometimes sober and clear-eyed. He would kiss the mutilated finger that could never again wear a ring and whisper, "Lena, don't you ever think you can leave me. You owe me twenty million. You owe me your life."
Later, he confessed that his relationship with Eleanor was just for show, a necessary evil. He swore that I was the only woman he considered his wife. And when I learned they had no official marriage certificate, I accepted his terms.
From that day on, I became his life in Northwood, and Eleanor was his life in Bay City.
Over fifty years, we even bore him the same number of children, a boy and a girl each. He was the master of juggling two lives.
"Dont be a fool, Mom. You call that juggling?"
3
It was Maya again. Her words were always so hard to hear. And they always cut right to the bone.
"Do you have any idea how much jewelry she owns? How many apartments, how many limited-edition cars? Do you know how many shares of the company have been funneled to her, openly and secretly?"
My lips moved, but no sound came out.
"Fine," Maya said, her voice thick with the frustration she felt on my behalf. "You can say you don't care about that stuff. But what about his time? In fifty years, you can count on one hand the number of times Dad flew to Northwood to be with you. When Grandma and Grandpa were sick, when they were dying, you were the one who stayed by their bedsides day and night. Did Eleanor Sterling ever bring them a glass of water? A single pill?"
"When we were kids, how many people pointed at us and called us bastards, illegitimate... You always said Dad was busy! Yes, he was busy! Busy celebrating a birthday with his other children in Bay City! How many of our birthdays did he come home for? We couldn't even call him 'Dad' unless no one else was around!"
Finally, a flicker of pity softened her voice, as if she was afraid of pushing me too far. "And in the end... Mom, she had a wedding of the century, broadcast around the world. Her dress was custom-designed by a master couturier. Her ring was bigger than a quail's egg. And you?"
She paused, her voice barely a whisper. "You have a finger that can never wear a ring again."
I staggered back until my spine hit the cold wall. The dignity I had fought to maintain for fifty years was, in my daughter's eyes, nothing but a pathetic lie.
I could still see the broadcast of that wedding, clear as day, even after all these decades. The air filled with falling petals as Danny, in a perfectly tailored suit, kissed Eleanor. The applause of countless guests. They were a beautiful couple, a perfect match.
Beside me on the sofa, Dannys mother had let out a long, weary sigh and patted my hand, saying nothing. That sigh was more shaming than any curse.
Even if Danny swore they would never get a marriage license, that in name, Eleanor and I were the same, what did it matter?
He bought her priceless jade at auctions, hosted art exhibitions of her paintings, even cooked for her. The tenderness in his eyes when he looked at her was undeniable. The world said Danny Sterling adored his wife.
And I was just a sewer rat, peeking at a happiness that wasn't mine.
I'd fought back, of course. The worst time, I smashed everything in the house I could get my hands on. At first, he was patient. He tried to hold me like he used to, to kiss my broken finger and murmur, "Don't, Lena... You know you're the only one in my heart. I could never love her. What is Eleanor Sterling to me? Anything she has, you'll have too..."
But eventually, he stopped saying that.
The last time I raged, he stood amidst the wreckage, looking down at me as I sat, disheveled and broken, on the floor. He watched me for a long time, then said softly, "You're getting old, Lena. What's the point of all this?"
He was right. I was old. My skin had loosened, my waist had thickened, and the lines around my eyes were too deep to hide. And Eleanor, with her expensive beauty treatments, was always perfect, always radiant at the galas, the charity dinners, the international art shows where she was needed.
More importantly, I had no way out. He had long since forbidden me from working, slowly clipping the wings that connected me to the outside world. The money he gave me was enough to raise the children, enough to keep up appearances, but never enough for me to have ideas of my own, and certainly not enough to leave and live independently.
I was a frog in a pot of slowly boiling water, and Id been simmering for so long. Eventually, I started to believe it myself. I had to love him. I had to act like I loved him more now than I ever had when I was young. It was the only way to find a reason for this absurd, laughable love, a pillar to keep it from collapsing entirely.
Danny's visits to Northwood grew less and less frequent. But I poured all my energy into caring for his parents, so much so that on their deathbeds, they wept and told me how sorry they were for what I'd endured. I pushed my children relentlessly, my standards for them almost cruel, until they became top performers in their fields. Their success was my greatest medal, proof that my silent suffering had been worth something.
4
Danny's health took a sharp decline in the spring.
A man of his wealth should have had access to the world's best doctors, to 24/7 private care. He shouldn't have been in this state. But his son and daughter in Bay City were just waiting for him to die so they could take over his empire. Danny was stubborn and refused to relinquish control.
He came to Northwood on his last legs. When I opened the door, he collapsed into my arms.
Through five major surgeries, I let no one else near him. I bathed him, fed him his medicine, tended to his every need myself. He wasted away to nothing. In his rare moments of lucidity, he would dictate instructions to his secretary.
One day, the secretary mentioned arrangements for his ashes.
I suddenly spoke up. "He should come back to Northwood. Come home."
His cloudy eyes turned to me.
On a strange impulse, I added, "...I want to be buried with you."
The words were out before I could stop them. I was stunned. The resentment I had buried for fifty years had never truly gone away. If I couldn't have him exclusively in life, I would bind him to me in death, forever.
Danny smiled, a weak, tired thing, and laboriously raised a hand to my face. "...That wouldn't be fair."
He paused. "My ashes... half and half. Buried in two different places."
"Danny..." I stared at the dying man. "And was it fair to me?"
Eleanor and I both had a son and a daughter, all around the same age. But I never told Danny that we should have had three children.
Eleanor had always known about me, but Danny had passed me off as a live-in housekeeper. A housekeeper. Someone who would never threaten her position as Mrs. Sterling.
Even so, she couldn't stand the thought of me bearing his child before she did.
One day, there was an "accident." I fell, and started bleeding heavily. Danny wasn't there. There was no one to even sign the emergency medical forms. I passed out from the pain. I was lucky to survive, but I nearly lost my uterus. I never told anyone about it. It was a scar I carried deep inside.
5
Today was December 6th. Fifty years ago today, Danny emptied his pockets, took me to a jewelry store, and bought me a ring. On that day, with a ring on my finger, I accepted his proposal. In my heart, I married him fifty years ago.
That's why I told my children we'd had a fifty-year marriage. Today should have been our golden anniversary.
But there were three people in this marriage. It was too crowded.
I wiped away a tear. Maya was right. A golden anniversary like this? I would rather not have it.
Today was also the day of Danny's sixth major surgery. The head surgeon said the risk was extremely high, with only a ten or twenty percent chance of success. But the potential reward was just as great. If it worked, he could recover most of his strength. If it failed, he would die on the operating table.
He was with his secretary now, scribbling instructions on a notepad. Soon, the nurses would come to take him away.
I don't know what came over me, but I shouted, "You fell in love with her, didn't you? You've loved Eleanor for a long time!"
You just couldn't admit it to me.
He struggled, shaking his head.
I laughed through my tears. Even at death's door, he wouldn't tell me the truth.
My children and I waited outside the operating room. I stared at the floor. Maya came over and put her arm around me. "Don't worry, Mom. Dad will make it through."
I forced a smile. "I almost wish he wouldn't."
Then I would finally be free.
Six hours. The surgery dragged on. I couldn't sit still. The longer it took, the greater the risk. Which meant...
Suddenly, the doors to the operating room burst open. A doctor rushed toward me. "The patient's condition has taken a turn! He's in cardiac arrest! We need to reopen his chest immediately! Where's the family? We need a signature on the consent form!"
A piece of paper was thrust into my hand.
My mind went blank. Images of Danny flashed before my eyesyoung, old, tender, cold. The tip of the pen hovered over the signature line. My hand was shaking so badly I couldn't write.
"Sign it! Sign it now!" the doctor urged, his voice frantic. "We can't proceed without a signature! You're wasting precious time!"
Slowly, I put the pen down.
"Doctor," I said, looking up, "there are no direct family members here. I can't sign this."
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