“Wilma, I’m here to see Leo. He’s home, isn’t he?”
Wilma froze, uncertain of what to do. Marguerite was still at the house, and now another woman had shown up at the door out of the blue. Wilma had no idea how to handle the situation.
Leonard glanced up and was momentarily caught off guard. He clearly hadn’t expected Winifred to show up unannounced.
“Winifred? What are you doing here all of a sudden?”
“Leo, I know today is your grandmother’s birthday,” Winifred said brightly. “I wanted to come with you to wish her well. She’s always treated me so kindly, and your family looked out for me when I needed it most.”
She held up a carefully wrapped present, her excitement evident as she turned it for both Leonard and Wilma to see. “I even picked out a gift for her. Why not bring me along?”
But from the moment she stepped inside, Winifred’s gaze had latched onto Marguerite. Watching the two of them—Leonard and Marguerite—sitting together over breakfast, chatting quietly, there was an undeniable warmth between them. The scene twisted something deep in Winifred’s chest, a sharp ache she couldn’t ignore.
This was supposed to be her place, her moment beside Leonard—yet somehow, it belonged to another woman.
Why her? Why not me?
Winifred fought down the jealousy and resentment threatening to spill over, forcing herself to keep her composure. If she hadn’t come here today, she might never have learned that Leonard and Marguerite were already living together—and by the look of things, they seemed genuinely happy.


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