The Husband We Shared

At a girls’ night, someone suggested a game. We would message our husbands on Snapchat, say we’d found a $20,000 coat we wanted, and see whose husband sent the money first. As expected, I won again. My husband, Ethan Bennett, transferred twenty thousand dollars in seconds. No questions asked. “Claire, you’re so lucky! Three years of marriage, and he’s still that generous.” I smiled and raised my glass, then glanced at my best friend Sophie across the table. She hadn’t touched her phone all evening. One hand rested protectively over her slightly rounded belly. “I’ll sit this one out… He’s been busy lately. I don’t want to bother him.” Everyone knew Sophie had gotten married after a whirlwind romance six months ago. Her husband was supposedly well-off, but none of us had ever met him. The others kept teasing until Sophie finally handed me her phone, blushing. “Claire, just send something for me…” I typed: “Honey, I found a maternity evening gown I love. It’s twenty-three thousand. Could you pay for it?” A voice message came back instantly. “Baby, didn’t I just pay for your wedding dress at Ivory & Lace? Don’t rush the evening gown. I’ll pick you up after work, and we’ll choose one together.” The women around the table squealed. “Sophie, your husband is so sweet!” I looked at her, suddenly unable to speak. Because I’d been hearing that voice for three years. It belonged to my husband, Ethan Bennett. “Claire, why aren’t you smiling?” Megan James nudged my arm from the seat beside me. Sophie lowered her head and reached for her phone. “Stop listening. It’s embarrassing.” Someone laughed and blocked her hand. “What’s there to be embarrassed about? Your husband is so sweet. Let us hear it again.” Sophie’s hand froze in midair. Slowly, her eyes shifted to me. I handed her phone back. “He certainly sounds sweet.” Megan leaned closer. “Claire, would your husband feel threatened if he heard that?” “He’s too busy to feel threatened.” I picked up my own phone. After transferring the money, Ethan had sent another message. “If you like it, buy it. Don’t worry about the price.” Megan said, “Call Ethan. Let’s hear what he thinks of Sophie’s husband.” I smiled. “Sure.” Sophie’s head snapped up. “Claire, come on. Ethan’s busy with work.” Only after she said it did she seem to realize how casually she’d used his name. Megan looked at her. “Sophie, are you close with Ethan too?” Sophie gripped her phone. “Claire mentions him so much. His name just slipped out.” I called Ethan. He answered almost immediately. “Claire, is your party over? Want me to pick you up?” Several women covered their mouths and giggled. “He’s so thoughtful.” I looked at Sophie and asked, “Where are you?” “At the office.” “I have another meeting. I might be late. Don’t drink too much. It’ll upset your stomach.” “Why is it so quiet there?” He chuckled. “I’m the only one left in the conference room. Checking up on me?” Megan called out, “Ethan, we’re playing a game to see whose husband sends money fastest. Your wife won again.” “When have I ever made her wait for something she wanted?” I asked, “Having fun at Ivory & Lace?” There was a brief pause. “What?” “Someone just mentioned the shop. Said they have beautiful wedding dresses.” “But you don’t like wedding dresses, remember? When we got married, you said wearing one for a single day was too much trouble. You insisted on that little satin dress.” Megan slapped the table enviously. “You even remember that? Unbelievable.” I watched Sophie’s hand cover her belly. “Yes. He’s always had an excellent memory.” Ethan asked, “Claire, have you had too much to drink?” “No.” “Then send me your location. I’ll have the driver pick you up.” “No need.” “Come on. It’s chilly tonight. Your knees will get cold in that black dress.” Megan gasped dramatically. “Claire, did you save his life or something?” I almost laughed. Three years ago, I really had saved him. Not his life. His pride. During the hardest year of his startup, a client suddenly demanded that he cover a cash shortfall. I sold a bracelet my mother had left me. That day, he held me and said, “Claire, I’ll never give you a reason to envy another woman.” Now I sat at a table full of women who envied me, while the source of their envy had split in two. Sophie stood. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to the restroom.” I stood too. “I’ll come with you.” “No need,” she said quickly. I’d already picked up my purse. “You’re pregnant. I’d rather not let you go alone.” Sophie walked slowly, her hand pressed to her lower belly the whole way. At the restroom entrance, she finally stopped. “Claire, have you gotten the wrong idea?” I looked at her reflection. “I haven’t even asked anything.” She bit her lip. “Ethan’s just doing me a favor.” “Paying for your wedding dress?” “It’s not what you think.” “Then what is it?” Her eyes reddened. “My husband’s money is tied up right now. Ethan’s a good person. He offered to cover it for us. He sent that voice message on my husband’s behalf. My husband couldn’t do it himself.” I looked at her. “What’s your husband’s name?” Sophie lowered her head. “Don’t put me on the spot.” I nodded. “I won’t.” My phone buzzed with a Snapchat message from Ethan. “The driver’s outside. Don’t take a cab.” I turned the screen toward Sophie. Her gaze landed on the message. Her lips moved slightly. I asked, “Do you get a driver too?” She said nothing. Someone called from the private dining room, telling us to come back for cake. Sophie wiped the corners of her eyes. “Claire, it’s Megan’s birthday. Please don’t make a scene.” I slipped my phone into my purse. “I’ve always been good at letting people save face.” She relaxed. Then I added, “Especially people who have no shame.” All the color drained from her face. Back in the dining room, Megan pressed the cake knife into my hand. “Claire, come on. You and Sophie should cut it together. The two happiest women here tonight.” Sophie came to stand beside me. Ethan called again. I put him on speaker. “Claire, the driver says he can’t find you.” I stared at the two crooked candles on the cake. “Ethan.” He answered gently. “Yeah?” “Are you done with work?” “Not yet. I’m still going through the meeting documents.” I smiled. “Take your time, then.” From his end of the call came the chirp of a car locking.“Why didn’t you wait for the driver?” Ethan stood in the entryway with a paper bag in his hand. I paused while changing my shoes. “I felt like walking.” He reached for my purse. “Drinking and then going out in the cold? You’ll have another headache tomorrow.” He set the bag on the dining table. It was from my favorite rice porridge place. He lifted the lid. “I got you shrimp porridge. Light on the scallions, no ginger.” I sat down and looked at the crushed peanuts floating on top. The restaurant served a side dish with peanuts, and the staff sometimes added them to other orders by mistake. Ethan used to check first, every time. I was allergic. A bad reaction could make my whole face swell. When I didn’t move, he stirred it with a spoon. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you hungry?” “There are peanuts in it.” Ethan looked down. “Sorry. I had the driver pick it up today. He didn’t know.” I murmured an acknowledgment. He immediately took the bowl away. “Don’t eat it. I’ll make you some noodles.” Water started running in the kitchen. I sat at the table, looking at the paper bag. A receipt was tucked into the top. It listed another takeout item. Warm milk custard, no sugar. A note read: For a pregnant customer. When Ethan came out carrying a pot, I set the receipt on the table. “Who’s this for?” He glanced at it. “The driver mixed up the orders.” “The driver even knew to add a note saying it was for a pregnant woman?” “Claire.” He turned down the stove. “Did someone say something to you tonight?” I looked up at him. “What are you hoping I heard?” He came over, crouched in front of me, and took my hands. He knew that position well. Whenever I got angry, he always started by lowering himself. “Was Sophie there tonight?” “You knew she was.” “I knew you were getting together. I didn’t know she’d play that kind of game.” He sounded so sincere. “Her husband really is having some problems. He asked me to look after her. I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.” “Looking after her includes buying a wedding dress?” Ethan went quiet for a moment. “She’s emotionally fragile, and she’s pregnant. You have to be careful what you say to her.” “So you called her baby in your own voice?” His grip tightened. “She asked me to record that for her husband. He’s out of town, and they’re having problems. Claire, I admit I handled it badly.” I looked at him. “Do you think I’m an idiot?” Ethan didn’t get angry. “I’ve never thought that about you.” He stood and went to dish up the noodles. “You’re smart, sensitive, and proud. The last thing I want is for you to feel hurt.” I gave a short laugh. “And yet here we are.” He set the bowl in front of me. Noodles in clear broth, an egg fried crisp around the edges, just two leaves of greens. He used to make them like this when I came home after working late. “Whether you believe me tonight or not, I owe you an apology.” He sat across from me. “I’ll sort things out with Sophie. Don’t question her. She scares easily. Something could happen.” “What could happen?” “Pregnant women have emotional swings.” “Whose baby is she carrying?” Ethan looked at me. This silence lasted longer. “Her husband’s.” I nodded. “His name?” “What name?” “Her husband’s.” Ethan picked up his water and took a sip. “Claire, you don’t actually want a name. You want me to confirm whatever you’ve already decided in your head.” I put down my fork. “Will you?” “I haven’t betrayed you.” A message came in from Megan. “Claire, Sophie left in such a hurry that she forgot a prenatal form in the dining room. The emergency contact says Ethan Bennett. Is that your Ethan?” A photo followed. Name: Sophie Bennett. Age: Twenty-seven. Emergency contact: Ethan Bennett. Relationship: Husband. I pushed my phone toward him. “Does this count as her husband’s too?” Ethan looked down. A few seconds later, he lifted his head. “She has health issues. The hospital needed a contact. I just let her put my name down.” “And the relationship?” “Someone picked it in the hospital system. It doesn’t mean anything.” “Ethan, do you expect me to believe that?” He turned my phone facedown on the table instead of giving it back. “Claire, don’t blow this out of proportion.” “Are you afraid I’ll make a scene, or that she’ll find out I know?” Slowly, Ethan released the phone. “I’m afraid you’ll get hurt.” I stood. “Too late to worry about that.” He got up and blocked my path. “Where are you going?” “The guest room.” “Claire.” He wrapped his arms around me from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder. “I know tonight upset you. Get some sleep. Tomorrow I’ll take you to buy that coat. We can buy two if you want.” I looked down at his hands. Those hands had washed my hair. They had also picked out another woman’s wedding dress. “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “I didn’t marry you for twenty thousand dollars.” “I know.” I peeled his hands away, one finger at a time. “So twenty thousand dollars won’t buy my forgiveness either.”“Mrs. Bennett, are you still going to Ivory & Lace today?” Martin, our driver, was waiting downstairs with the car keys. I stopped. “Who told you to ask?” He gave an awkward smile. “Mr. Bennett said if you wanted to look at wedding dresses, I should take you straight there.” My phone vibrated in my purse. A Snapchat message from Ethan. “I was wrong last night. You like meaningful gestures, don’t you? Let’s have a proper wedding photo shoot.” I replied, “Didn’t you say last night that I don’t like wedding dresses?” His response came quickly. “People change. I want to give you something better too.” Once, those words would have softened me. I had wanted to wear a wedding dress. The year we got married, Ethan’s company was barely getting started. I’d said a satin dress was easier because I didn’t want to add to his stress. Later, whenever anyone asked, he told them I didn’t like the fuss. After hearing it enough times, it became the truth everyone knew about me. Martin asked, “Shall we go, ma’am?” “Yes.” Ivory & Lace was on the fifth floor of a downtown shopping center. The receptionist’s smile brightened the moment she heard Ethan’s name. “Mr. Bennett was just here yesterday. The bridal gown he ordered is still in storage. You’re Mrs. Bennett?” “Yes.” She opened the appointment book. “Mr. Bennett said your waist would change after the first trimester, so he asked us to leave extra room for alterations.” I looked at her. “First trimester?” Her smile froze. “That’s what Mr. Bennett told us.” I picked up the album on the desk. A fitting photo was tucked into the first page. Sophie wore a white wedding gown, one hand resting on her belly. Ethan stood beside her, adjusting her shoulder strap. The corner of the photo showed a date and time. Yesterday, 4:20 p.m. He had sent me a message at that time. “In a meeting. Don’t wait for me for dinner.” The receptionist spoke quietly. “Would you like some water, Mrs. Bennett?” “Has the balance been paid?” “He paid in full by card.” “Could you print an itemized receipt? I’d like to check our household expenses.” She hesitated. I showed her a photo of our marriage certificate. “I’m his legal wife.” Her expression changed. She lowered her head and began printing. The receipt was long. Bridal gown, reception dress, maternity alterations, groom’s suit. In the notes: Groom, Ethan Bennett. I folded it and slipped it into my purse. Before I left, a familiar voice drifted out of the fitting area. “Ms. Bennett, your husband said these heels are too high. He asked us to bring you a pair with a one-inch heel.” Sophie answered softly, “He’s always like that. Worried I’ll fall.” I stood outside without going in. Watching my face, the receptionist whispered, “Would you like me to call Mr. Bennett?” “No.” As the mall elevator descended, Ethan called. “Claire, Martin says you’re there.” “Yes.” “Which dress do you like?” “Which one do you think?” He laughed softly. “You look beautiful in anything. They have a satin gown there. I thought of you the moment I saw it.” I looked at the receipt in my purse. “Did you think of me, or her?” He said nothing. The elevator stopped on the third floor. A young couple stepped inside. The girl held a bouquet of lisianthus. The boy carried her iced tea. When Ethan spoke again, his voice was lower. “Did you see her?” “No.” “Then don’t jump to conclusions.” “Is the bridal gown beautiful?” He sighed. “Claire, I can explain.” “Go ahead.” “She and her husband can’t have a wedding anymore. She’s falling apart. I was just helping her fulfill a dream.” “You helped by being listed as the groom?” “The shop had complicated procedures. I signed to make things easier.” “Ethan, have you noticed you can’t even be bothered to come up with new lies?” He fell silent. “Where are you? I’ll pick you up.” “No need.” “Claire, please. Don’t wander around alone working yourself up.” “I’m not working myself up. I’m looking at evidence.” He paused. “What evidence?” I hung up. Half an hour later, I got home. Ethan had arrived before me. He stood in the living room. A box sat on the coffee table. “I bought you something.” I didn’t move. He opened the box. Inside was the twenty-thousand-dollar coat. “You said you liked it last night. I had it delivered.” Then he said, “Claire, I don’t want us giving each other the silent treatment.” “Do you think buying it makes everything okay?” “No.” He stepped closer. “I know Sophie bothers you. But she’s pregnant. We can’t handle everything the usual way right now.” “What’s the usual way?” “Once she’s had the baby, I’ll sort everything out.” I understood. It wasn’t that he had no choice. He had simply chosen to make me wait. “What about me?” Ethan looked at me. “You’re my wife.” “So being your wife means I have to give way?” He frowned. “It’s not giving way. You’re more stable than she is. Claire, I know you can handle this.” So because I had no pregnant belly, no tear-reddened eyes, no helplessness that required someone to hold me up, I was expected to be understanding. I picked up the coat. Ethan thought I was going to try it on. Instead, I placed it in his arms. “Return it.” “But you liked it.” “I don’t anymore.”“Claire, stay home today. I’ll come back for lunch.” Ethan’s Snapchat message arrived at seven in the morning. I was sorting through the closet. The bags he’d given me, the ties I’d bought him, the invitations from our wedding. I put them all into separate piles. Not because I couldn’t let go. Leaving someone meant settling the accounts too. I replied, “Don’t bother.” He called. “Still angry?” “No.” “Whenever you say no, you mean yes.” He chuckled. “I ordered those crab noodles you like. They’ll be there at eleven thirty.” I folded a men’s scarf into a paper bag. I’d knitted it myself last winter. I’d made two mistakes. He said he couldn’t tell. Later, I’d seen the same scarf in a post on Sophie’s Snapchat story. The caption read: Someone says even the mistakes look beautiful. At the time, I’d laughed about her husband’s unusual taste. On the phone, Ethan asked, “Why aren’t you saying anything?” “Ethan, I want to go to the county courthouse.” He went quiet for a few seconds. “What for?” “To start the divorce.” I heard a folder snap shut. “Claire, don’t threaten me with that.” “It’s not a threat.” “You didn’t sleep well last night. You’re upset. We’ll talk when I get home.” “We’ve already talked.” “That wasn’t talking.” His voice softened. “You saw part of the picture and sentenced me without hearing the rest. That’s not fair.” I laughed. “Not fair to you?” “What’s going on between Sophie and me is more complicated than you think.” “So complicated you became her husband?” “That title was just for convenience.” “Convenience for what?” He didn’t answer. I hung up. At eleven forty, the crab noodles arrived. There was also a container of pork rib and root vegetable soup. The note read: No pepper, light salt. For a pregnant customer. The delivery driver stood in the doorway. “Ma’am, did the restaurant mix this up? There were two addresses on the combined delivery. Someone called and told me to bring yours first.” I looked at the receipt. My name was on it. So was Sophie’s. Ethan had ordered both our lunches from the same restaurant. The noodles meant for me were already swollen and soggy. Her soup had its own insulated bag, carefully sealed. The driver was still waiting. “Would you like to call and check?” “No.” I took the soup too. “Thank you.” It was still piping hot. I opened the lid. A faint aroma rose from it. Ethan remembered that Sophie couldn’t have pepper. The porridge he’d brought me when my stomach hurt had contained peanuts. My phone rang again. This time it was Sophie. “Claire, did my soup get delivered to you?” “Yes.” “Ethan said you weren’t feeling well, so he asked them to deliver yours first. I didn’t know they’d mix up the addresses.” “What did you call him?” Silence. “You just called him Ethan.” “Sorry,” she said quietly. “It slipped out.” “How many times does it have to slip out?” “Claire, I never meant to take anything from you.” She started crying, softly. “I was just so scared. He said you were strong. He said even if you found out, you’d be able to talk things through. He said he wouldn’t leave you.” I gripped the soup container. “Is he going to stay with you?” Sophie choked on a sob. After a moment, she said, “He promised to stay with me until the baby’s born.” “And then?” “He said he’d figure it out later.” I poured the soup down the sink. Sophie heard and panicked. “Don’t do that. He stood in line to buy it.” “It wasn’t for me.” “Claire, don’t pressure him. He’s exhausted. Work is so busy, and my pregnancy symptoms are awful. Going back and forth between us is already hard on him.” I listened, struck by how completely absurd it was. My husband was running between two women, and she was asking me to appreciate how hard he worked. “Sophie, do you know we’re still married?” Her crying stopped. “He said there hadn’t been any love in your marriage for a long time.” “Do you believe everything he says?” “I’m pregnant. Claire, I can’t lose him.” The lock clicked. Ethan came in carrying a pharmacy bag. Seeing the phone in my hand, he looked first at the soup in the sink, then at my face. “What did you say to her?” I turned on the speaker. Sophie sobbed his name. “Ethan, have I caused you trouble again?” Ethan walked over and took my phone. “No. Don’t cry. Eat your lunch. I’ll come over in a little while.” I watched him. Only after reassuring her did he hand the phone back. “Claire, she can’t handle stress.” “And I can?” Ethan set the pharmacy bag on the table. Inside were my stomach pills and a box of prenatal folic acid. He took out the folic acid and slipped it into his pocket. “Let’s get divorced,” I said. He looked up. “Stop saying things out of anger.” “I mean it.” “Claire.” He stepped closer and reached for my face. I stepped back. His hand hung in the air. “I admit I have a responsibility to her. But you’re the one I love.” “You love me, so I have to wait until she has your baby?” “It’s the safest way to handle this.” “For whom?” “For everyone.” “Including me?” After a pause, he said, “You’ll have to put up with it for a little while.” I walked to the table, picked up the cold crab noodles, and dropped them in the trash. Ethan frowned. “Don’t punish your body because you’re angry.” “Nine tomorrow morning. Meet me at the courthouse.” He stared at me for a long time. Then he took out his phone and called someone. “Martha, come stay with my wife tomorrow.” I looked up. After hanging up, Ethan looked at me. “You haven’t been yourself lately. I’m holding on to your documents for now. Once you’ve calmed down, I’ll give them back.” I rushed into the bedroom and opened the drawer. Our marriage certificate, my vital records, the copies of my ID. All gone. Ethan stood in the doorway. “Claire, I’m not divorcing you.” He paused. “Sophie has a prenatal appointment tomorrow. Go with her. She trusts you. She’ll feel safer with you there.”