All I'd wanted was one taste of his sweet and sour ribs.

I'd sent messages through every channel I could find, again and again, but I never once saw Stewart in person. All I ever got back were his apologetic replies.

"I'm sorry, babe. I really can't find the time."

I told myself it was all for our child. That was the only way I could swallow it and keep going.

What I never expected was that while I sat in prison serving his sentence, Stewart had already built another life on the outside. A new home. A new wife.

And all those times he said he couldn't find the time? He'd been in the kitchen making sweet and sour ribs for another woman.

Alberta noticed I hadn't touched my chopsticks. She picked up a piece of the shredded pork and chewed it twice before setting her own down.

"My husband's version is way more flavorful. He knows I can't stand ginger, so he always minces it so fine you can't even taste it."

My hand clenched around my fork. My knuckles went white.

When Stewart used to cook for me, he never bothered picking out the ginger. He'd just say it was good for circulation, and when I complained, he'd glare at me and lecture me like I was being ungrateful.

"You're lucky to have food at all. Stop being so picky."

"Babe, if you want to stay healthy, you can't be fussy about what you eat."

But now, with something to compare it to, the truth was painfully clear.

It wasn't that he didn't know how. It wasn't that he didn't care. He simply hadn't wanted to do it for me.

A wave of acid surged up my throat, churning my stomach inside out.

"Hey, you okay?"

Alberta's voice pulled me back.

The child in her arms whimpered softly and reached for a toy car on the table.

"Do you think I'm too high-maintenance?" Alberta laughed. "My husband says the same thing, but he still cooks everything the way I like it."

She bounced the little girl on her knee, her eyes full of warmth.

"Look at this little one. She's only three or four and she already takes her daddy's side. Last time I pretended to yell at him, this girl grabbed my hand and bit me."

"Doesn't help me out at all. I have no idea who she takes after."

That one sentence made my head snap up.

Could it be... that Stewart had his reasons for all of this?

Had everything he'd done been for our child?

For the first time, I truly looked at the little girl. Before I'd gotten pregnant, Stewart and I had already agreed: boy or girl, the baby's name would be Amelia.

My eyes burned. My vision blurred as I stared at the child.

"What's your daughter's name?"

"Amelia."

I knew it.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Stewart hadn't betrayed me. Maybe life had forced his hand, and he'd had no choice but to live with another woman. But he'd kept our baby. He'd brought our child into this world.

I could barely contain myself. Carefully, I rose from my seat and crouched down beside the little girl.

"Sweetheart, can you call me Mama?"

Alberta stiffened instantly. She pulled the child behind her, shielding her.

"What is wrong with you?"

"You can't just ask someone's kid to call you Mama!"

I hurried to wipe my tears, trying to pull myself together.

"I'm sorry. She just reminded me of my own daughter."

"When I left my husband and child, my baby hadn't been born yet. She'd be about your daughter's age by now."

Alberta blinked. Something like guilt flickered across her face. "Oh... I see."

She scratched the back of her head, and then, as if to comfort me, she pushed the little girl into my arms with surprising generosity.

"Well, in that case, you can be her godmother from now on."

"Amelia, say hi to Mama."

I hadn't expected Alberta to be so open-handed.

I just wondered whether she had any idea that this child wasn't her biological daughter.

Back at the table, I picked up a piece of broccoli and put it in my mouth. It tasted like nothing at all.

"How long have you and Stewart been married?"

I asked the question as casually as I could manage.

"Almost five years now."

Alberta suddenly got the urge to pull up her wedding photos on her phone and show me.

"Look, this is from our wedding. Doesn't my husband look amazing in a suit?"

In the photo, Stewart wore a black suit, his arm linked with Alberta's, his eyes crinkling with a warm smile.

The red decorations in the background were garish, almost blinding.

I gave a stiff nod. "Very nice."

Alberta sighed. "We got together five years ago, but we never actually got our marriage license."

I forced the corners of my mouth upward. "Why not?"

But inside, my mind was racing, feeding me desperate reassurances.

It has to be because Stewart is just using her. They're just playing house.

He never intended to divorce me.

After all, he and I are legally husband and wife. How could he possibly get a marriage license with another woman?

But then Alberta let out another sigh.

"My husband, well, it's because his ex-wife's mother died and left behind a huge inheritance. If he officially married me, he'd lose his claim to it."

"Nothing you can do about it, right? Nobody's going to turn down that kind of money."

My fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms.

My mother had died, and apparently she'd left behind a fortune. All of it had gone to Stewart.

That was the reason he'd never filed for divorce.

My thoughts spiraled into chaos, but before I could collect myself, Alberta leaned in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Between you and me, his ex-wife's mother wasn't even sick originally. But we were barely scraping by back then, couldn't even put food on the table. So to get that inheritance, my husband came up with a little plan..."

A wave of dread crashed over me. My head snapped up.

"What plan?"

Alberta's smile turned ugly.

"He swapped out her sleeping pills for something else. It wasn't long after that before the old woman passed. And just like that, the inheritance was his."

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning. Every sound around me went muffled, distant, as if the world had been plunged underwater.

No wonder...

In my second year of prison, my mother had suddenly fallen gravely ill and died.

I'd always believed it was because the news of my imprisonment had broken her.

I never imagined there was something else behind it entirely.

My eyes burned crimson. I nearly lost all reason, nearly charged into the school to grab Stewart by the collar and demand the truth.

Then Alberta's cheerful voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.

"Oh look, my husband's coming out."

She handed the child to me and grabbed a jacket, heading for the door.

"Wait here for me, okay? I'll bring Stewart right over."

Through the restaurant's glass window, I watched.

Alberta broke into a little jog, reaching Stewart and throwing herself into his arms with a playful pout.

Stewart caught her with a doting smile, his hands settling on her waist.

"Babe, why are you standing out in the cold waiting for me again? If you catch something, I'll never forgive myself."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

Watching the two of them, so sweet, so in love, all I felt was a bitter ache hollowing out my chest.

Stewart took her hand with a smile. "Today was crazy busy. Sorry I kept you waiting again. How about after dinner we go shopping?"

Alberta hugged his waist and tilted her face up, grinning.

"There's someone else here, honey. Don't let a stranger see us like this and think we're ridiculous."

"Oh, someone came looking for you, by the way."

"Who?"

Stewart's eyes were full of open adoration and tenderness as he tilted his head to look at Alberta.

"She said she's a junior from your college."

Alberta pointed in my direction.

"Look, right over there."

"What girl from school?"

Stewart leaned forward, curious, but the moment his eyes landed on me, he froze. The color drained from his face in an instant.

I smiled.

"Stewart, aren't you going to introduce me to your wife? Tell her who I am?"