I slipped into the study without knocking and the sudden chill from a phone call made the hairs on my neck stand up.
We should get new curtains, said Ethel, staring at the livingroom window. These have faded completely.
I set my newspaper aside and looked at the glass.
They look fine to me. Why change them?
Its been eight years, Victor, Ethel sighed. Its time for an upgrade.
Alright, buy them if you want, I muttered, turning back to the paper.
Ethel drifted into the kitchen and began preparing dinner. It was a regular evening, the sort of night where, after twentytwo years of marriage, weve talked about everything under the sun and now our conversations are reduced to the mundane. She diced vegetables for a salad, put potatoes on to boil, and fetched the meat from the fridge. The motions were automatic, years of habit. Occasionally I caught Ethel thinking she was living on autopilotwork, home, cooking, cleaning, repeat.
Ethel, would you like some tea? I called from the sitting room.
Later! she replied.
Victormy name, that ishad been the chief engineer at a big manufacturing plant on the outskirts of Birmingham. Lately Id been staying late, looking exhausted. She blamed it on the new project we were launching.
My phone rang. I rose quickly, closed the study door behind me, and stepped into the office. Ethel heard my muffled voice but could make out no words.
It was unusual. I had always taken calls in front of her; never had I slipped away to the study without a word. Yet this was the third time in a week Id disappeared there.
Ethel frowned. Something was off. She tried to push the uneasy thoughts aside, but they kept crawling back. Maybe Im being ridiculous, she told herself. Victor isnt the type to cheat. Weve been together so long.
But doubt gnawed at her. She remembered a lipstick mark on my shirt the week before. Id explained it away, saying a colleague, Natalie, had brushed against me at a staff party while hugging everyone. Shed believed me.
Id also begun to stare at myself more in the mirror, bought a new aftershave, and started paying extra attention to my clothes, insisting that the plants new dress code demanded a polished look.
Ethel shook her head. Im just being paranoid. Its just fatigue.
Dinner was ready, and I called her to the table. I emerged from the study looking thoughtful.
Everything alright? she asked.
Just work stuff, I said, sitting down.
We ate in silence. She kept glancing at me; I seemed distant, my mind elsewhere. Normally Id chat about the project, but tonight I was quiet.
Hows the project going? she asked cautiously.
Fine, I replied briefly. Ethel, could I go to bed early? Im knackered.
Of course, she said, masking her disappointment.
I slipped off to the bedroom while Ethel cleared the table, washing dishes and wondering why Id become so closed off.
The next day I arrived home early. The lights were on, so I assumed I was back. I walked into the lounge, but the house was empty. The kitchen was bare, and the study emitted a faint murmur.
I was about to knock when I remembered the study was always an open door. I pushed it open.
There I was, standing by the window with my phone to my ear. Hearing my footsteps, I spun around, my face twisted with alarm.
Yes, well speak later, I said hastily into the handset and hung up.
But I hadnt missed the fragments that floated past my ear: you know how important this is to me No, I cant keep this Ill sort it tomorrow She must never find out
The last sentence was crystal clear. She must never find out.
I froze. Who was she and what was she not supposed to know?
Ethel, I forced a nervous smile, youre back early.
Got off work early, she replied, voice oddly steady despite the tremor inside. Who were you talking to?
Just a colleague, I said quickly. Work.
You said she must never find out. Who are you talking about?
Panic rose in my throat. I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again: Its complicated.
Try me, Ethel said coldly. I have all the time.
I paced, raking a hand through my hair. I didnt want you to hear this.
Her heart pounded. So there is something. My worst fears are confirmed.
What did you hear? she demanded, voice shaking. Do you have someone else?
What?! I stared at her. Theres no one else!
Dont play dumb! she cried, tears welling. Youve been staying late, hiding phone calls, and that lipstick mark! And now this! She must never find out!
I opened my mouth, but silence hung heavier than any words.
My God, she whispered. Its true then. You have someone.
No! I stepped forward. Youve got it all wrong!
Then explain! she said, backing away. Who was that she you told not to tell me about?
I sank into a chair, covering my face. Its not what you think. I swear theres no affair.
What then?! Speak up! she sobbed. Im your wife! I have a right to know!
I know, I said, rising. Just give me a bit more time. By the end of the week Ill explain everything. I promise.
How much time? A day? A week? A month? she sniffed.
Until Saturday, I said firmly. Ill tell you everything then. Please, just wait.
She stared at me, a mixture of anger and hurt. Part of her wanted to scream, the other part sensed how stressed I was.
Alright, she said wearily. But if youre lying I wont forgive you.
Theres no other woman, I replied, taking her hands. I love you, Ethel. Only you.
She looked into my eyes, searching for honesty. Still, the knot in her stomach didnt loosen.
The days that followed were torture. I tried to act normal, but my mind kept looping over the mystery. I couldnt sleep, replaying every possible scenario: debts? Illness? A scandal at work?
My friend Laura, noticing my gloom, asked what was wrong. I finally spilled the beans.
Honestly, Laura, I wouldnt even check his phone, I admitted. It feels like a betrayal of his privacy.
Thats low, Laura shot back. You have a right to know the truth.
But I hesitated. Id always trusted Victor, respected his personal space. Snooping would feel like treachery.
Thursday night, I heard him on the phone again, the conversation drifting from the study door. I pressed my ear to the wood, ashamed of myself, catching snippets: think shell be pleased we must organise everything properly yes, Saturday
Pleased? Pleased with what? It didnt sound like an affair, nor a health crisis.
Friday morning Victor left for work unusually early, claiming a crucial meeting. I took the day off, unable to work in that state. I paced the flat, trying to distract myself with chores, but my thoughts kept circling back.
My phone rang. An unfamiliar number.
Hello? I answered.
Is this Ethel Hartley? a womans voice said.
Yes.
My name is Emily. Im acquainted with your husband. We need to meet. Its important.
My heart hammered. Where and when?
In an hour at The Rendezvous on Oxford Street. Ill be in a blue coat.
I arrived early, sat by the window, twisting a napkin. A woman in a blue coat entered, tall, sleek, about forty. A flash of jealousy crossed me.
Ethel Hartley? she asked.
Yes, I stood. Please, have a seat.
She smiled, calm.
Thank you for coming. I know this must be difficult for you. Victor has told me everything.
What exactly? I clenched my fists.
She said you overheard his call and jumped to the wrong conclusion, Emily said, pulling a folder from her bag. He was very worried, didnt want to ruin the surprise, but I thought you deserved the truth.
She opened the folder.
Im the director of a charitable foundation for rescued animals, Emily began. Victor approached us three months ago with a proposal.
I blinked. Animals?
Yes. He wants to build a large, modern rescue centre for dogs and cats on the outskirts of town. He bought a plot, hired builders, and poured his savings into it. The construction is almost finished.
A rescue centre? I repeated, stunned. For animals?
Exactly, Emily smiled. Hes always said youd love to help stray animals, but thought the costs were prohibitive. Hes been organising this as a surprise for your birthday, naming the centre after you.
My mind raced. All those late nights, secretive phone calls, the lipstick markeverything suddenly clicked.
The phrase you heard, she must not find out, was about me, Emily explained, showing photos of the nearlycomplete facilities: spacious kennels, a modern veterinary clinic, volunteer quarters. He feared telling you early would spoil the surprise. Hes planning a big opening on Saturday, your birthday.
My throat went dry. Why didnt he tell me? I whispered.
He wanted it to be a perfect surprise, Emily said, tucking the photos away. He even sold his parents cottage and took a loan to fund it. All for you.
Tears sprang to my eyesshame, relief, joy. I had imagined infidelity, when in fact he was fulfilling my lifelong dream.
Im a fool, I sobbed. I thought he was something else.
Victor loves you dearly, Emily said gently, patting my hand. He just wanted to make your birthday unforgettable.
I left the café with my heart pounding, halflaughing, halfcrying. I entered the study, the place Id dreaded, and found an open folder on the deskcontracts for the land, budgets, blueprints, and a handwritten letter.
My dearest Ethel,
If youre reading this, Ive failed to keep the secret. Im sorry for the lies and the worry they caused. I wanted to give you the greatest gift: a sanctuary for the animals youve always wanted to help, in your name, for your birthday and for the twentytwo years weve shared. I love you more than words can say.
Victor.
I read the words through tears, feeling foolish for doubting him.
The front door slammed as Victor walked in, spotting me holding the letter.
Ethel, you you read it? he stammered.
Yes, I said, stepping toward him. Emily told me everything.
He sank onto his knees, remorseful.
Forgive me. The surprise fell apart.
I wrapped my arms around him. Its the best surprise I could have imagined, just a little early.
He laughed, a shaky chuckle. I was a fool. I should have told you when you heard that call.
Well get past this, I said, wiping my cheeks. I was stupid to suspect you.
He looked up, eyes bright. You thought I was cheating?
I nodded, embarrassed.
He laughed louder. Ethel, the thought never crossed my mind! Youre my one and only.
I know now, I replied, smiling through my tears. Im sorry, you silly man.
That evening we sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea. He recounted the endless details of planning the centresize of the kennels, ventilation, temperature control, all the research hed read.
You have no idea how many nuances there are, he said, eyes sparkling.
You spent a fortune? I asked.
A drop in the bucket, he replied, taking my hand. Itll save hundreds of animals, give them a second chance. Isnt that worth it?
It is, I said. And you finally get to fulfil that dream of yoursgetting a dog of your own.
He grinned. Exactly. No more cramped flats; well have a whole rescue.
The next Saturday, his birthday, he drove me to the new facility. Emily welcomed us at the gate with a bouquet.
Happy birthday, Ethel Hartley! she exclaimed, kissing me on the cheek. Welcome to your rescue centre!
I walked through the gates and saw a large sign: The Ethel Hartley Animal Rescue. Inside were bright, spacious enclosures, happy dogs barking, cats lounging, a stateoftheart veterinary wing, and a cosy volunteers kitchen.
Its all mine? I whispered.
Yours, Victor said. If youd like, you can be the director, or just a volunteerwhatever you prefer.
I approached a large, reddishgolden dog with soulful eyes. Emily introduced him as Rusty, rescued a month ago, badly injured but now thriving. Beside him lay a sleek black lab named Midnight, his companion.
I opened the pen, and Rusty nudged his head onto my lap, looking grateful.
Can I take him home? I asked Victor.
Of course, he laughed. And his mate, too. Weve got room.
We adopted both, and their wagging tails filled the car on the way back.
That night, as the two new dogs curled up at our feet, I confessed, Mistrust is a terrible thing. It eats you from inside, makes you see monsters where there are none.
Do you blame yourself? Victor asked, pulling me close.
A little, I admitted. I should have talked to you openly instead of letting my mind run wild.
He kissed my forehead. Now you know Id never cheat. No thoughts of that ever cross my mind. Youre my only one.
Our new companions, Rusty and Midnight, settled into the flat, sniffing every corner, wagging their tails in delight.
I looked at Victor, the dogs, our cosy home, and felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. I had everything: a loving husband, a roof over our heads, and now a rescue centre for the animals Id always wanted to help.
The next day I called Laura, breathlessly recounting the whole story.
Youve got yourself a champion of a husband! she exclaimed. Where do you find men like that?
Its a plant, I laughed. Do you want to volunteer at the rescue? We could always use help.
Im in! Laura replied. Sign me up!
The rescue became my purpose. I spent my days feeding the animals, cleaning pens, and walking the dogs. Victor visited whenever he could, despite his demanding job. Together we found homes for countless stray cats and dogs, treated the sick, and gave them a second chance.
One evening, as I watched a puppy being adopted, I turned to Victor and said, When I heard that call, I thought my world was collapsing. It turned out to be a test of our trust, love, and the strength of our marriage.
He kissed my forehead. We passed, he said. Were even stronger now.
Rusty and Midnight lay at our feet, content and warm. Snow drifted outside, but inside the house was bright and snug. I nestled against Victor, realizing that true happiness isnt measured in money or career success, but in trust, love, shared dreams, and the joy of giving animals a safe haven.
