Did he really cheat? I asked, choking on my coffee, eyes glued to my mate.
Olivia sat opposite me, hunched over her mug, looking like there was a hole inside her. Her fingers lay limp on the table, her gaze stuck somewhere distant.
He did, she whispered. With a colleague. I found the messages.
Laura let out a heavy sigh and shook her head.
Ugh theyre all the same, Ol. All the blokes are identical. My Mark did the same a few years back, remember? I thought Id never get through that pain. It felt like my life had ended right then.
Olivia lifted her eyes, a flicker of hope there, as if someone might finally understand what she was feeling. She asked:
And? How did you get past it?
Laura shrugged.
Theres no magic. He got down on his knees, begging for forgiveness, begging me not to take Leo away. He swore it was a mistake, that hed never do it again. I mulled over it for three days and then I forgave him. What else could I do?
Olivia went back to stirring her coffee, even though she hadnt added any sugarjust needed something to occupy her hands.
I dont know what to do, Laura, she admitted softly. Honestly, Im lost.
Laura laughed, almost lighthearted, like we were talking about picking a new dress rather than a shattered marriage.
Listen, why not squeeze something out of him? A pricey gift, a holiday, cash for a coat. Let him pay back his wrongs in full. Then you can decide whether youll stay. Its still a family, not just a fling.
Olivia felt a knot tighten. Money? Gifts? Could any of that really make up for betrayal?
How did you ever trust him again after the affair? she asked, meeting Lauras eyes. After something like that?
Laura brushed it off.
I just put it behind me. Forget it and move on. Youll see you can do the same. Dont get stuck on it. Time heals. The main thing is not to blow the thing out of proportion or beat yourself up every day.
We chatted about trivial things for a while longer, finished our coffees and said our goodbyes at the café door. Olivia trudged home slowly. Her husband, Victor, was waitinghed cheated with a colleague from the next department, tearing a sevenyear marriage apart in one swipe.
Could she forgive him? She didnt know.
At home Victor swirled around her like a loyal dog, making tea, asking if she wanted a snack, bringing a blanket when she settled on the sofa. He apologizedten, twenty, a hundred times a dayoffered flowers almost daily, turning the flat into a greenhouse.
But inside Olivia felt something had gone dark. She stared at Victor and only saw the man whod betrayed her.
Olivia, Ive brought your favourite roses, Victor said one evening, handing over another bouquet.
She placed the flowers in a vase mechanically, feeling neither joy nor gratitude, just doing what was expected.
That weekend Olivia drove up to her mums place, needing to dump her feelings on someone whod known her forever.
Sitting at the kitchen table shed grown up at, she confessed:
Mum, I cant forgive him. Im trying, I swear, but it just wont work. Every time I look at Victor, I think about leaving.
Her mum snapped around, practically shouting:
All men cheat, Olivia. Its normal. Youre being too pickythats the problem. As a married woman youre supposed to endure. Otherwise youll end up alone and no one will want you!
Olivia tried to argue:
But mum, this is my life. My feelings. Do I have to swallow my pride? How do I live with a man whos stabbed me in the back?
Her mum sneered.
Pride? Are you even listening to yourself, love? Youre thirtytwo! Whos going to look at you at that age? Victors a good bloke, works hard, doesnt drink. He slipped oncewho hasnt? Just forgive and forget.
Olivia left with a heavy heart. Everywhere she turned, the same chorus: forgive, forget, endure.
That night Victor was cooking dinner, chopping veg for a salad, humming to himself. Shed once found it endearing, now it made her gag. Every little movement of his annoyed her to the bone. She stared at his back, wanting to scream.
A week later her motherinlaw, Dorothy, dropped by. Victor wasnt homehed gone out so the women could have some privacy.
Dorothy eased herself into a chair, forced a smile, then said:
Olivia, dear, my son made a terrible mistake, but hes apologised, isnt he? Hes shown remorse, so hes learned his lesson.
Olivia sat on the sofa, hands clenched, trying to stay calm while her insides boiled.
It hurts, Dorothy. I cant just snap my fingers and forgive. Its not that simple, she said.
Dorothy leaned forward, eyes hard.
You cant? Youve got to forgive my son. Do you think youre the only one whos been cheated on? Plenty of women put up with it and carry on. Are you special or what?
I dont want to put up with it, Olivia snapped.
Dorothy raised her voice:
What do you want, to be alone? At your age, no ones going to chase after you. Besides, you need a child. Once you have one, your husband will settle down.
Dorothy left Olivia to stew in her thoughts. Everyone around her was screaming: forgive, move on. No one cared about her pain, nothing about the fact that something inside her had finally snapped.
For the next two weeks Olivia teetered between trying to save the marriage and realizing she couldnt trust Victor any more.
One evening Victor suggested they go out for a coffee, like the old days. Olivia agreed, hoping it might clear the air.
They sat at a table, and Olivia slipped into the restroom to splash her face with cold water, trying to steady herself. She weighed everything again and decided to give him another chance.
But the moment she walked back, Victor was chatting with the waitress, his hand on her wrist, grinning like he hadnt smiled at Olivia in ages, whispering something to her.
Thats when Olivia knew she couldnt do it. Shed never be able to forget, never be able to live with the constant suspicion, the endless torment. It would be unbearable.
She walked over, Victor pulled his hand back, looking guilty.
Could we get the bill, please? Olivia said calmly.
Victor stared at her, bewildered.
Olivia, we havent even started eating, he protested.
I need to go home, she replied, not raising her voice, just watching him from the side.
Back at the flat, Olivia headed straight to the bedroom, grabbed her suitcase.
Im leaving, Victor, she said.
What? Olivia, what are you talking about? Victor froze in the doorway.
Ive thought it through. This marriage isnt for me. You need to find someone who wont make you think about cheating. For me, its a betrayal I cant live with. Ill never forget it, she said, not looking at him.
He lunged for her hand, but she slipped away.
Wait, just talk to me! he begged.
Theres nothing left to say. Its over. She packed her things, called a taxi. He begged and promised anything, but Olivia wasnt listening. It didnt matter anymore.
She filed for divorce.
Everyone called. Her mum wailed on the phone, calling her naïve and foolish. Laura accused her of tearing the family apart. Dorothy screamed that shed ruined a solid marriage.
I didnt ruin anything, Olivia said evenly. Victor broke it by cheating. Now Im looking after myself.
Three years later
Olivia was brewing coffee in a modest kitchen of a new flat in Bristol.
The door opened and Max stepped in, wrapping his arms around her from behind.
Morning, love, he murmured.
Olivia turned, kissed his cheek.
Theyd met a year earlier, both bearing the scars of infidelity. Theyd found each other in the wreckage and vowed never to betray again. And this time, Olivia felt something she hadnt felt in yearshope.
