"I heard Dad call her 'daughter-in-law' before I even opened the door. I thought I must have misheard."
"But I didn't, did I? I've been sitting here all this time, and not one of you has said it was a joke."
The older couple's faces flushed with embarrassment.
Ray guided Ruth to the sofa, tucking a cushion behind her lower back with careful hands.
Then he poured her a steaming cup of chrysanthemum tea and placed it gently in her palms.
In all our years of marriage, Ray had never once treated me like that.
I had never been on the receiving end of such tender, meticulous care.
Yet here it was, lavished on another woman without restraint.
I watched for a moment, then asked casually, as if making small talk, "When did this start?"
Ray shot me a glance, irritation flickering across his face. "Just say what you mean."
"Fine. When did the two of you start?"
My soul was tearing itself apart, and my voice rose sharply before I could stop it.
Ruth's hand jerked. Scalding tea sloshed over the rim.
The water splashed across her fingers. She let out a pitiful yelp, and the cup slipped, shattering against the floor.
Ray's gaze cut toward me like a blade.