“Ryan. What happens on Thursdays that Vanessa wishes someone had warned her about?”
Ryan’s mouth opened. The color drained from his face.
“Cole. Do the late shifts pay overtime, or is that just what you tell your wife?”
Cole’s hand moved toward his phone, then stopped.
“Mason. Has Danielle booked the flights yet, or is she still waiting on the vacation money you spent on a PlayStation?”
“You discussing my body?”
Mason gave a short, nervous laugh that died almost immediately.
“Jesus, Elise. Come on.”
Nobody was smirking anymore.
“Talk,” I said. “What did Finn promise you?”
The three of them exchanged looks.
“You actually made a bet?”
Ryan finally sighed. “A few weeks ago, we started giving him a hard time about you.”
“About me how?”
“About you… letting yourself go after the twins.”
I stared at him. “You sat around drinking beer and discussing my body?”
“It was a stupid joke. Finn told us to shut up at first.”
“At first?”
“His car.”
Ryan looked away. “Then I told him he’d gone soft too. That he couldn’t even get you back in shape.”
“And he believed he had something to prove?”
Cole nodded. “He said he’d have you looking like your old self within a month.”
I felt sick. “You actually made a bet on that?”
A new idea began to form.
Nobody answered.
“What did he bet?”
Cole looked down at his beer. “His car.”
I stared at them.
Finn loved that car. He’d put six years of savings, Sunday mornings, and more care than he’d shown me lately into it.
“You set me up.”
And he’d been willing to gamble it on my body.
I thought about Vanessa’s warning.
And a new idea began to form.
That was when I changed tactics. I stood up and gave them my sweetest smile.
“Barbecue at our place next Friday. We’ll celebrate Finn’s victory.”
“It was a stupid joke, Elise.”
Next Friday, the three of them arrived laughing.
Finn opened the door with Noah on his hip, Lily wailing behind him, drool on his collar, a soft belly under a stained shirt.
His friends howled until they saw my face.
“You set me up,” Finn said.
I almost laughed. “I set you up?”
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“You told me?”
“It was a stupid joke, Elise. The guys were giving me a hard time. I never thought…”
“That I’d find out about the bet?”
Finn’s face changed.
Ryan looked down at his beer. Cole suddenly found the floor fascinating.
“What the hell is this?”
“You told me?” Finn snapped at them.
“They didn’t have to.”
Vanessa stepped out from the kitchen, followed by the other two wives.
I’d told them everything earlier that week, and neither had taken it well.
Judging by their faces, Finn wasn’t the only husband in for a difficult night.
“I don’t want the old me back.”
“What the hell is this?” Cole muttered.
“The part where everybody stops lying,” I said. “Or did you think my husband was the only one getting embarrassed tonight?”
Finn shook his head. “Els, come on. It was just a bet.”
“On my body.”
Nobody answered.
“You said I was overreacting.”
“And you put your car on it.”
His eyes flicked toward the driveway.
I held out the AI portrait, rewrapped in brown paper.
“Return gift.”
He didn’t take it.
“You wanted the old me back so badly,” I said. “The problem is, I don’t want the old me back anymore.”
“What’s that?”
This time, when I pressed the portrait into his hands, he took it.
“And Finn?”
He looked at me.
“You lost the bet.”
He stared at the package. “Elise, I said I was sorry.”
“No. You said I was overreacting.”
“I think Ryan just won your car.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Ryan reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Finn’s face changed. “What’s that?”
Ryan wouldn’t look at him. “The bet.”
Finn went still.
“Motivating, isn’t it?”
I looked toward the driveway, where his precious car sat under the porch light, polished even now.
“You told them you could turn me back into the woman you wanted in a month,” I said. “You couldn’t.”
“Els…”
“So technically, I think Ryan just won your car.”
His eyes snapped toward Ryan.
I believed him.
I didn’t care who got the car. I cared that Finn finally understood what it felt like to have something you loved turned into a prize in somebody else’s game.
I placed the portrait against his chest.
“Motivating, isn’t it?”
We separated the following month.
To his credit, Finn became a real father to Noah and Lily.
I was becoming who I chose.
He apologized sincerely, and I believed him.
But being a better father couldn’t erase the husband who’d humiliated me. Forgiving him didn’t mean going back.
I kept the folder as a reminder.
One Sunday, I watched Noah and Lily crawl through the grass, my sketchbook open, no longer afraid of mirrors.
For the first time in years, I wasn’t becoming who someone else wanted.
I was becoming who I chose.
