Every eye turned to Wilfred.
No one had expected this—not here, not now, not at his twin daughters' birthday party.
Hildegarde certainly hadn't.
In five years of marriage, Wilfred had always been meek, careful, obedient. He never dared step out of line. Yet here he was, demanding a divorce in front of everyone.
Where had he found the nerve?
Had he lost his mind?
"Wilfred, are you trying to pick a fight with me?"
"No. This isn't a fight. I mean every word."
He shook his head. "Hildegarde, there's only ever been one man in your heart, and it isn't me. Hilary has never seen me as her father either."
"For five years, you've taken her abroad every year. I know exactly what those trips are about."
"I'm in the way. So I'm stepping aside."
"Hilary, this is the last birthday I'll celebrate with you. Happy birthday."
With that, Wilfred took his younger daughter Penelope by the hand. His voice softened. "Penelope, come with Daddy."
"Okay." She nodded firmly.
"Wilfred!"
Hildegarde's composure shattered. She slammed her palm against the cake, sending it toppling. Her pale face flushed crimson. "You're making a scene in front of all these people! Are you trying to humiliate me?"