…Diane Rowe. Your husband’s fiancée before he met you. His sister has been trying to get them back together for forty years.”
I found the wedding photo in our album that night. There she was, standing behind my mother-in-law in a pale blue dress, unsmiling. I’d always assumed she was a cousin.
My sister-in-law, Patty, had never liked me. She’d adored Diane. When my husband, Tom, broke off his first engagement and married me a year later, Patty never forgave either of us. Last year, Diane’s husband died. Patty saw her chance.
The emerald necklace had been Patty’s doing too. She’d taken it from my jewelry box at Christmas and given it to Diane as a “family heirloom,” so Diane would feel she belonged.
I confronted Tom the next morning with the video. He didn’t deny it. He said it had started three months ago, at Diane’s husband’s funeral. He said he was “confused.”
“You’re sixty-five,” I said. “You’re not confused. You’re cheating.”
I filed for divorce. My lawyer requested the necklace back. When Diane learned it had been stolen from me, she returned it the same day by courier, with a note: “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” I believe her. Patty lied to her too.
The divorce took eight months. I kept our house. Tom moved in with Diane. Patty called to tell me I’d “finally got what I deserved.”
She’s right. I wear my mother’s necklace to dinner with my friends every Friday now. I got my freedom, my house and my emeralds back. That’s exactly what I deserved.
