Im writing this on a rainy September evening, the kind of damp that makes the streets of Manchester glisten. Im still trying to make sense of the mess I helped create and the apologies that keep spilling from my mouth.
Emily, Im sorry, I was out of my mind, I said that night, my voice shaking. I swear Ill never speak to her again. If you want, Ill change jobs, Ill do whatever you need. Just tell me to go, but dont leave me.
September greeted Emily with a chilly, yet gentle sun. Yellow leaves spun around her feet, and the smell of wet earth hinted at the approaching autumn. She hurriedly packed suitcases. Ahead lay a long journey to the Lake District, where her mother lay suddenly ill.
At first it seemed just a bad cold, but the dread that lodged deep in Emilys chest grew each day. Doctors delivered a grim diagnosis that hit her like an icy splash. I stayed in our flat, unable to accompany her. She had no choice but to take our son, Harry, and fly straight to her mothers side. Thus began a brutal, exhausting battle against the ticking clock.
The first three months were a blur of endless doctor visits, endless tests, and frantic hunts for a competent specialist. Whenever a rare free slot opened, Emily would rush home, only to feel something odd. The house was still tidy, the kettle still whistled, the sofa still held my imprint, but her thoughts seemed stuck in that remote cottage, as though a part of her never really left.
Just as her mothers condition steadied a little, Emily had to pack again. Harry, weary from flights and hospital corridors but obedient, rode with her. More planes, more doctors, more flickering hope that sparked and died. By March there was a small reprieve: her mother improved slightly, and Emily managed a brief return home for a couple of weeks.
During that lull, a mundane mishap sparked a new crisis. Harry dropped his phone in the bathtub. Emily recalled a tip from a womens magazine place the device in a bowl of rice. She did so, turned it on, and the screen lit up with a new message. I was dozing on the couch at the time.
Harry, look, your phone works, Emily said, handing me the device. I lazily skimmed the notifications, then froze.
Whats this? she asked, leaning in. The message read: Im falling for you more and more.
My heart thudded. I cleared my throat, trying to appear calm, but my hands trembled.
Emily, youve got it wrong, I rushed out. Its just a joke. A colleague from work is playing a prank on me. Were often silly together.
A joke? I crossed my arms, feeling a sudden chill despite the warm flat. Youre kidding?
I swear, its nothing. We just work together, nothing personal.
How can I be sure? You dont hear messages like that from just a colleague, do you? she pressed, eyes searching mine for the slightest sign of deceit.
Im certain. Youre letting mums illness get to you. Lets take a walk, get some fresh air. The suns out.
Desperate for a break after three relentless months, I agreed, hoping a stroll would steer the conversation elsewhere. We left the flat, but the peace was shortlived. As soon as we were back, another message arrived from the same colleague, even more explicit. Jealousy pricked at Emily, but she wanted to talk to me first, not launch a scene.
Harry, look at this. Its not a joke anymore.
I snatched the phone, my face turning pale.
Its a mistake. Ill tell her to stop.
Will you or should I write to her? Emily asked, voice trembling.
Emily, I love only you. Theres no need for any drama over nonsense.
Then came another flight, another round of hospitals, another stint with my motherinlaw, another set of tests. Harry remained my constant anchor amidst the chaos.
By March, my motherinlaw felt a little better, and Emily managed another short trip home to try and regain balance. Yet the balance never returned. A text shed skimmed earlier that day haunted her; the words lingered. She could not simply forget them.
She decided not to wait for another excuse and confronted me directly.
Harry, I need the truth. I cant live with vague explanations.
I explained everything! It was just a clumsy joke. Why keep bringing it up?
Because it unsettles me, she said firmly.
I tensed.
Emily, why are you making a mountain out of this? Everythings already complicated.
I spoke with your colleague, she shot back, voice turning icy, and she reached out herself.
I froze.
She wrote she wrote, Yes, I love you. Yes, we were together. What do you have to say to that, Harry?
Silence fell, his face paling.
Leave, Emily whispered, her voice shaking with restrained anger, pack your things and go.
No, I whispered back, youre making a huge mistake! I had nothing with her. She made it up, and you believed some lunatic!
I dont believe you! she snapped, thrusting her phone at me, displaying the screenshot where the colleague confessed everything. See? This is your joke!
I lowered my head. The room seemed to hold its breath forever. When I finally lifted my eyes, guilt and desperation swirled in them.
Alright. I slipped. I love you, Emily, I always have. Its true.
Slipped? she laughed bitterly, Three years of lies! How could you disrespect me like that?
Its not a lie. I truly love you. I just wasnt there as often as I should have been
Not there? Only a coward would behave like that! she shouted, stepping back, Youre a coward!
But I didnt leave you, Emily, I didnt abandon you! I tried to grab her hand. Were together
She pulled away. It didnt matter whether I stayed or went; the pain I caused eclipsed everything else.
You say you didnt abandon me, yet you drifted between us, using convenience as an excuse for love. Ive got nothing left to argue about. My mothers getting worse.
Another flight, another trip to the Lake District, more hospitals, more battles now carrying both my motherinlaws illness and the weight of my betrayal.
In August my motherinlaw passed away. By New Years, Emily moved through life as if in a fog, mechanically performing daily tasks. The home that once felt like a fortress now seemed foreign. Harry was her anchor, the only thing keeping her from dissolving into perpetual grey.
When the first months of despair faded, she began to awaken, yet never fully recovered. Every glance at me burned. She could not look at my face, hear my voice. Still, she clung to the need to care for Harry, who seemed to sense her turmoil.
I, realizing the depth of my wrongdoing, tried to mend things. I stayed close, begged for forgiveness, pleaded to return to the way we were.
Emily, please, lets try again. I made a terrible mistake. I didnt run away when you left for your mother. Isnt that proof of my love?
Her mind replayed the messages shed stumbled upon while cleaning my phone. The words from the other woman were crystal clear:
Youre my everything, she wrote.
And the reply she remembered:
Did I tell your wife everything? Someone must have pushed her. Any woman would have left, but you a rag!
Harry played with his building blocks in the corner, looking just like a younger version of Emily focused, clever. He didnt deserve a home haunted by his fathers lies.
I entered with two mugs of tea.
Here, a nice herbal brew. Have a sip.
Emily took the mug but didnt drink.
I cant, Harry
We agreed time heals. Give us time. Ill do anything for your forgiveness.
Time? she smiled bitterly, Time showed how masterfully you can lie. You stayed because it became inconvenient to leave, not because you loved me. Her messages prove it.
It was foolish of her! I stopped her, I said it was over!
You didnt stop her, Harry. You chose the easiest lie to keep me from falling apart.
She inhaled deeply.
I cant forgive you now. Maybe never. But I have to live, and Harry has to live. Well stay apart for a while. Ill send him to his aunt for a few weeks, and Ill stay with a friend until I figure out what I want.
I turned ashen. I realized this wasnt a pause; it was a real chance to lose everything.
Emily, dont do this. Ill go to therapy, quit my job, anything. Please, dont leave.
Im not leaving you, Harry. Im leaving the lies, she said quietly, I cant love you while you live a lie. Well talk when I return, if I ever do
I never returned. We lived apart for two months, then she decided the family would not survive, even for Harrys sake. I changed jobs, cut ties with the other woman, yet I know that young girl will forever linger in both our memories, and Im not ready to accept that.
Looking back, I see that honesty is the only foundation a relationship can stand on. Deception may buy a moment of comfort, but it builds a house of cards that collapses the moment the wind blows. Ive learned that truth, however painful, is the only path to genuine peace.
