Good Lesson
Who are you chatting with? Emily peered over my shoulder at the computer screen, curiosity in her voice.
Ah! I flinched and hurried to close the socialmedia app. What are you doing, sneaking around? Keeping tabs on me?
I wasnt even thinking about it, why the sudden jump? Was it Poppy?
Poppy?
Poppy Whitaker, your old schoolmate. The one you used to chase after in the senior years.
And? You think I could be mixing her up with someone else? I dont recall any Poppy. Just heat up the dinner, dont stand there like a statue!
Emily dropped the line and drifted into the kitchen. He doesnt remember, she muttered to herself.
James had lied poorly. How could he forget? Hed been head over heels for Poppy since school, trailing her like a shadow. Even after we married, he kept a photograph of her tucked away. When I uncovered a fragment of that past, I tore it to bits so it could never be glued back together.
He hid the scrap in a secret drawer, only to find torn shreds. Another man might have kept quiet, but I saw James rage, kicking the furniture.
We fought fiercely enough that I left to stay with my parents we were on the brink of a divorce. Then I discovered I was pregnant, forgave him when he finally came around, and we never raised the subject again.
Years later, when social media finally hit the mainstream, everyone started digging up old school friends. Thats how James fell back into the web.
After that night I caught him holding my hand, his eyes glued to the screen as Poppys face appeared. I realised he was living in a virtual world. He was constantly messaging someone, laughing at replies, brushing off my questions about who he was talking to. He locked his computer and phone, stayed late at the office, and I was on edge.
Mum, whats wrong? Everyones on those sites. Want me to sign you up? I asked.
No, dear, weve had enough of a lunatic in the house who does nothing but sit in front of a computer all day.
I tried everything: cutting cables, blocking the internet, pulling the plug on the lightsanything to pry him away from that blue glow. Nothing worked. He snarled at me, twisted his neck, and stormed off, slamming the door.
Enough! I thought, returning home from work that evening. This cant go on He must choose: me and our son, or the internet!
I stepped into the flat; darkness swirled around us. Our little boy, Tommy, was off at his grandmothers for the holidays, and James was slumped on the couch. It was the first time in months I saw him not glued to a screen. I felt a flicker of hope, then
Whats with the lights out, then? I said with a hint of sarcasm, kicking off my boots at the door.
Im not in the mood for jokes, Emily. Stop snapping! Cant you see Im ill? he snapped back, voice trembling.
What do you mean? I asked.
Ive been through a work health check Thats all. He thrust a crumpled paper at me.
I skimmed the report; tears welled up instantly.
When? How? I asked, voice shaking.
Ive made a decision. You need to understand me correctly he began.
About what?
The house
What does that have to do with anything?
Look, the flat we have is my motherinlaws. The property I own was a gift from my own mother, and Im the sole owner, so I can decide what to do with it.
I cut him off before he could finish. Fine, if we can sell it for treatment, lets do it.
He threw up his hands. Emily, you dont get it! I cant be helped, so Im giving the house to Poppy she needs it more! he shouted, his voice cracking.
What did you just say? I asked, my throat dry.
You heard me! James lunged from the sofa, ready to attack. This is my final will! Im the owner and I decide!
Poppy? The same Poppy you were obsessed with in school? I could scarcely believe it. Now I finally understood who hed been chatting with online, who hed hidden from me.
He nodded, eyes wild. Yes, her. I still care. Who knows what might have happened if she hadnt moved away with her parents back then?
I stood there, stunned, then replied coldly: If youve made up your mind, let Poppy chase you to the ends of the earth. Ive got nothing more to do here. I packed my things, called a cab, and left for my mothers house on the outskirts of town.
James never expected such a reaction. He thought that once I learned he didnt have long to live, Id go along with his plan and stay by his side.
For three months I drifted, as if my soul had been ripped out and trampled under his words. Tommy visited his father a few times despite my protests. Mum, can you imagine? Dads lying there, cant get up, and Aunt is looking for renters for the flat, he told me once.
A hospice wanted to move him there. My father, hearing this, turned green with rage. Were like cats and dogs now, Tommy said, and Im off.
I tried to forget James. To distract myself, I went out with a few friends to a restaurant. It was a rare break; with James, life had been workhome, homework, a neverending loop. For the first time I could laugh, dance, sing a little, and even shed a tear with the other women, swapping stories about our own burdens.
Every one of us has her own rattling in the cottage thats life, isnt it? It cant always be smooth sailing.
I returned home well after midnight. My mother and Tommy had been warned, so they were already in bed, not waiting for me. I stumbled out of the cab, a smile on my face, on a cool summer night. The streetlamp opposite my flat had burnt out just the night before, leaving the path to the terrace in shadow. I hummed a tune as I walked, feeling a weight lift from my chest.
From some open source I heard: Emily, Ive been waiting for you! James voice called out in the darkness. I turned and saw him perched on a low wall by the gate, dressed in white trousers and a shortsleeved shirt. He didnt move.
Ah! I shrieked, startled, thinking his spirit had come to make peace.
Emily, Im sorry! I didnt mean to scare you! he pleaded.
My heart thumped; I realised it wasnt a ghost but my husband, standing there as if hed just stepped out of a wedding portrait. The shock knocked the wind out of me.
What are you doing here? I demanded, my voice trembling. Youve driven me mad! Leave, I swear Ill never see you again! I shouted, slapping him as hard as I could.
My mother and Tommy burst out of the flat, horrified. I grabbed his hair with one hand, slapped him with the other. He fell back, crying like a wounded lamb.
Im not to blame, an imp misled me. I love you and Tommy, but Ill get rid of that swindler,
I spat out, pulling his head back.
He then explained that he wasnt ill at all; the diagnosis was a mistake. A broken machine had given the same result to three other patients that day. Hed been sent to the hospital, told to have tests, and the doctors note said hed have a month to live, but it turned out to be three months.
The hospital had tried to call his wife, but the message was misdirected to Poppy, who was posing as his spouse. Shed kept quiet, hoping to get the flat for herself, even arranging a hospice place for him through a friend.
Im sorry, Im sorry James knelt before me, pleading. Ive finally understood everything.
I didnt go back to him straight away; I needed time to think. James, now a devoted father, spent every spare moment with Tommy, surprising me with his newfound dedication. My mother, after fifteen years of marriage, finally dusted off a spade and helped in the garden. On weekends shed take potatoes to the market with my motherinlaw, something shed never done before.
And Poppy! She gave us a proper lesson, didnt she? James learned the hard way, and the moral stuck with him for the rest of his life. He cut ties with his old school friends for good, deciding the only forgiveness he needed was mine. He even drew up a deed transferring the flat to Emily as a sign of his wild love.
Shes still hesitating whether to go back to him Though she now holds the deed, she hasnt asked for it. After all, the son is theirs together.
Thats the story.
