Chapter 3

3.

Lillian didn't come home that night.

The next day at noon, my daughter, Riley, called me to ask what was going on.

"Dad, seriously? You and Mom are way too old to be fighting like this."

I didn't say a word.

I set the phone on the table and went back to reading my newspaper.

Riley went silent for a moment before offering a weak apology.

"Look, I knew about Mom and Bennett... but they really are just friends."

I glanced at the phone.

"If they're just friends, why did you help her hide it from me?"

"I just didn't want you to overreact and get the wrong idea!"

I let out a sharp laugh.

"You hid it because even you know what she's doing is wrong!"

Riley's tone turned sharp and impatient.

"Drop it, Dad. Mom and I are trying to give you a way out of this."

"Bennett is a decent guy. Stop looking at everything through such a dark, twisted lens..."

I hung up on her immediately.

A wave of nausea hit me.

This was the daughter I had raised with everything I had.

I took off my glasses and went to the kitchen.

I was going to make myself a simple bowl of spaghetti.

But the phone rang again. This time, it was Lillian.

"Where did you put my mom's heart medication?"

"Second drawer of the nightstand."

"Oh, found it. What's the dosage?"

I pressed my lips together.

"Three white pills three times a day. One yellow pill once a day."

"Fine."

She didn't hang up. After a long silence, she spoke again.

"I'm staying away for a while. You need to stay home and reflect on your behavior!"

I didn't know what I was supposed to reflect on.

Should I regret accidentally seeing those photos?

Or should I regret not being a good little servant and booking her ticket to see her boyfriend?

I hung up again and focused on my dinner.

After eating, I grabbed my old fishing rod―something I hadn't touched in years―and went to the lake.

I went fishing for three days straight.

The little fish I caught went into a tank in the living room.

Life felt incredibly peaceful.

Occasionally, I'd check social media at night.

Most people my age were posting pictures of their grandkids or senior hiking clubs.

Lillian only posted pictures of her meals.

The food looked absolutely terrible.

A mutual friend commented: "Lillian, if you can't cook, just let Silas do it!"

Everyone in our circle knew I treated Lillian like a queen.

Since the day we got together, I never let her set foot in the kitchen or do a single chore.

And yet, despite all that, I was never the one she loved.

I scrolled further. Lillian had replied to the friend: "A woman needs to be independent and strong."

The passive-aggressiveness made me want to laugh.

Right before I turned out the lights to sleep, Lillian called me, sounding frantic.

"Silas! My parents are in the ER!"

By the time I got to the hospital, her parents were out of danger and moved to a regular room.

Lillian was wiping away tears.

"You're finally here."

I walked to the bedside and asked what happened.

She stuttered, unable to give a straight answer.

The nurse nearby finally spoke up, looking annoyed.

"Food poisoning."

"Sir, let me tell you, you have to cook vegetables thoroughly. And those moldy leftovers? Toss them. Trying to save a few bucks isn't worth this!"

Lillian's face turned bright red.

I was speechless.

Once the nurse left, Lillian snapped at me.

"Are you happy now? Are you enjoying the show?"

I adjusted my glasses and stated the facts.

"You're the one who called me."

She glared at me, somehow finding a way to blame me for her own incompetence.

"If you hadn't fought with me, I wouldn't have left home! If I hadn't left, I wouldn't have accidentally poisoned my parents!"

Lillian saw my silence and assumed I was giving in, just like I always did.

Her voice softened slightly.

"Silas, we aren't young anymore. I don't want to keep fighting. Let's just say the other stuff was my fault. I'm apologizing, okay?"

I looked at her elderly parents, who were still unconscious on the beds, and spoke quietly.

"Don't bother apologizing."

"Let's just get a divorce."