When The Matriarch Vanishes

A push notification from a top gossip website lit up my phone screen.

My husband, Preston Blackwood, was supposed to be in Europe on business. But there he was, captured in a photo from a charity polo match in the Hamptons, standing on a sun-drenched lawn with his college sweetheart. And our two children.

The four of them were radiant in the golden sunlight, their smiles in perfect sync, like a picture-perfect upper-class family. In that moment, a cold, sharp certainty pierced through me.

I knew, in that instant, that my marriage was over.

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1

The day Camila Vance—my cousin, and Preston’s first love—returned to New York City, I knew my ten-year marriage was finished.

I headed straight for the top-floor office of the Blackwood Group, ready for a showdown.

But as I reached the door, I heard Preston's voice.

"This necklace will look perfect on you."

Then, a woman's hesitant voice followed. "But this is the 'Starlight Sapphire.' It's meant for the lady of the Blackwood house. I… I couldn't possibly accept this, could I?"

My son, Caleb, chimed in, "It's okay, Camila. It looks so much better on you than it does on Mom. Will you be our new mom?"

Preston chuckled, gently explaining to Camila, "Don't take them seriously. They just adore you."

"And to be honest," he said, his voice softening, "this necklace was always meant for you. Things just… got complicated back then."

A shadow of regret flickered in his eyes.

Hidden from view just outside the door, I heard every word. The four of them… they already looked like a perfect family.

But when they turned and saw me standing there, the smiles on their faces instantly froze.

Camila was the first to react. She smiled warmly and walked toward me with open arms.

"Juliet! What a surprise. I didn't expect to see you here."

Before her hand could touch my sleeve, Preston stepped between us.

He frowned. "Stay away from her," he told Camila. "Don't let her ruin the moment."

I froze, a wave of shame washing over me, my cheeks burning.

Camila noticed my expression and gave Preston a gentle push on the chest.

"Is that any way for a CEO to behave? You don't talk to your wife like that."

Then she turned to me. "Don't mind him, that's just how he is. He really does love you, you know. I would know. I know him better than anyone."

Despite the push, Preston wasn't angry. Instead, he gazed at Camila with a doting smile. His hand lingered where she had touched his chest, his eyes filled with undisguised joy.

Behind them, my daughter, Abigail, pouted.

"Mom, you're so petty."

Caleb glared at me. "Are you just jealous Dad invited Camila to the anniversary gala? When did you become so pathetic?"

I stared at the children I had brought into this world, and a deep chill settled in my bones.

"Just let Camila attend the gala in my place next month," I said flatly. "It'll save me the trouble."

Preston’s fingers dug into my wrist, his anger flaring. "Stop being ridiculous. You're Mrs. Blackwood. Start acting like it."

I met his glare. "When you took your perfect little family of four to the Hamptons, did you remember I was your wife?"

Preston was speechless. He took Camila's hand and turned to leave.

"Your mother seems to be emotionally unstable," he announced to the room. "I'll make an announcement that she's unwell. Camila will attend the anniversary in her place."

The two children's eyes lit up. "That's great!" they cheered. "Camila, it's so good to have you back! You can be our mom from now on!"

Camila looked from the children to me, her expression uneasy. "The kids are just being silly, don't mind them. That position is too important. I couldn't possibly take your place, you should be the one to go—"

"No," Preston cut her off. "She'd only make a scene."

The children chimed in. "That's right, we don't want her to go. She's a bad mom, and we're sick of her."

I nodded, looking at the four of them—a perfect family portrait I was never a part of.

"You're right," I said. "Preston, let's get a divorce."