The atmosphere could have shattered like fine crystal. Our family dinner, meant to be a beautiful gathering, was now a stage for a drama nobody had anticipated. My heart was pounding, but I refused to let it show. I took a deep breath, feeling an unexpected calm envelop me.

Sofia offered an awkward smile, aware of the tension surrounding us. My family exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. But I could see a flicker of something else in my mother’s eyes—pride. She knew me well enough to sense that I had something up my sleeve.

“Welcome, Sofia,” I replied, my voice steady. “It’s lovely to meet you. Why don’t you both take a seat?” My politeness caught Michael off guard, a hint of confusion clouding his confident facade. He had expected a scene, an outburst, perhaps. But not this.

As they settled at the table, the conversation resumed with forced enthusiasm. Small talk floated around, but I barely registered the words. My focus was on the envelope neatly tucked in my purse.

I had known about Sofia for a while. It wasn’t hard to piece together the puzzle when Michael’s excuses grew flimsier by the day. Instead of confronting him with accusations and anger, I sought counsel and prepared myself for this moment.

The dinner progressed, an odd mix of tension and normalcy. My mother was the first to catch my eye, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. I nodded imperceptibly, reassuring her that I had everything under control.

As dessert was served, I decided it was time. I cleared my throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “I’d like to make a toast,” I announced, lifting my glass. My voice was clear, unwavering. “To new beginnings.”

Michael raised his glass, seemingly oblivious to the weight of my words. “To new beginnings,” he echoed, a smug smile playing on his lips.

I set my glass down and reached for the envelope. “And speaking of new beginnings,” I continued, sliding it across the table towards Michael, “I have something for you.”

He frowned, the smile vanishing as he picked it up. The room was silent, all eyes on him as he opened it. His face paled when he realized what he was holding—divorce papers.

“This is absurd, Olivia,” he stammered, trying to maintain his composure. But the confidence was slipping, revealing the man behind the facade. “We can talk about this.”

I shook my head. “There’s nothing left to discuss, Michael. You made your choice clear when you brought her here tonight.”

My family remained silent, a united front behind me. Michael looked around, seeking support, but found none. He had miscalculated, believing I would be too weak, too passive to stand up for myself.

Sofia shifted uncomfortably, sensing that the fairy tale she envisioned was crumbling. I almost felt sorry for her, drawn into Michael’s web of lies. Almost.