Im staying with you, I whispered, my voice trembling as if a phantom had tangled my tongue. I dont know how this happened, love. Forgive me, I beg you! I swear Ill never speak to her again. Ill change my job if you want. Shall we leave? Just dont abandon me
***
September slipped in on a crisp, tender sun over the rolling hills of Yorkshire. Yellow leaves swirled at my feet, the damp earth exhaled its scent, and the promise of autumn hung heavy in the air. I hurriedly shoved clothes into suitcases. Ahead lay a long journey to the Lake District, where my mother, suddenly struck by a mysterious illness, waited.
At first it seemed a simple cold, but a deep unease settled in my chest, growing each day. Doctors delivered a shocking, chilling diagnosis that fell on me like an icy shower. My husband, Charles, stayed behind; he could not accompany me. I had no choice but to take my son, Harry, and fly straight to my mother. Thus began our harsh, exhausting battle against time
The first three months blurred into endless appointments, lab work, and frantic searches for a competent doctor. Whenever a spare window appeared, I would return home, yet a feeling that something had shifted lingered. The house was clean, the living room cosy, Charles tried to keep the routine alive, but my thoughts were rooted in the misty hills of the Lake District. The home was not abandonedCharles tended the hearth, the familiar comforts persistedbut my focus had been pulled away.
Just as my mother steadied, I had to pack again. Harry, a bit weary from flights and hospital corridors yet obedient, rode with me. More planes, more doctors, hope flickering like a candle in the wind. By March, a small relief arrived: my mother improved slightly, and I allowed myself a brief respite, returning home for a couple of weeks.
During that fleeting lull, truth, stubborn as a weed, pushed through. Harry complained that his phone had slipped into the bathtub. I remembered a tip from a womens magazine: bury the gadget in a bowl of rice.
***
I retrieved the smartphone, switched it on. The screen lit up, displaying a fresh message. Charles slept peacefully on the sofa.
Harry, lookthe phone works, I said, handing it to him. He lazily took it, scrolled, and then froze.
Whats this? I leaned in, noticing the change in his posture. Im falling for you more and more. What does that mean?
Charles snapped upright, coughing to hide his agitation, his hands trembling just a touch.
Darling, youve misunderstood, he blurted, its just a joke, a colleague was teasing me. We mess around sometimes
A joke? I crossed my arms, feeling a cold spread inside despite the warm room. Messing around?
Im being honest, its nonsense. We just work together, nothing personal.
You sure? Because messages like that arent usually signed just a colleague, I pressed, studying his face for any hint of deceit.
Im certain. Youre overthinking it because of Mums illness. Lets leave it, go for a walk. The suns out, we need fresh air.
His insistence to walk felt like a desperate change of subject. Exhausted from three months of relentless stress, I let him lead, convincing myself his nervousness explained everything. We walked, but the calm was shortlived.
As soon as we returned, another message from the same colleague appeared, even more explicit. Jealousy pricked at me, yet I chose to confront Charles first, avoiding a scene.
Harry, look at what she sent now. This isnt a joke.
He took the phone; his face went pale.
This this is a mistake. Ill tell her to stop.
Youll write to her? Or should I?
Alice, I told you I love only you. No need for a drama over nonsense.
The cycle repeated: planes, my mothers fragile health, doctors, endless tests, the hospitals clatter. Harry remained the only constant amid the chaos. When my mother eased a little, I finally exhaled, gaining another brief pause.
***
March arrived again. My mother felt a bit better, and I managed another trip home, hoping to restore balance. Balance, however, refused to settle. A lingering SMS thread I skimmed that day haunted me; I could not simply erase those words.
I decided not to wait for another excuse and asked Charles directly.
Harry, I need the truth. I cant live with vague explanations.
I told you everything! It was just a botched prank. Why are you digging this up again?
Because Im unsettled, I replied firmly.
Charles tensed.
Alice, why are you pushing? Its already complicated enough
I spoke with your colleague, I said, voice turning to ice, and she reached out herself.
He froze.
She wrote, I continued, meeting his eyes, Yes, I love you. Yes, we were. What do you say to that, Harry?
He stayed silent, his face turning ashcoloured.
Leave, my voice trembled with heldback emotion, pack your things and go.
No, he whispered, youre making a huge mistake! I never did anything with her. She imagined it, and you fell for a wild story!
I dont believe you! I snapped, pulling out the screenshot where the lover confessed everything, here! Your joke!
Charles bowed his head. The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity. When he finally lifted his gaze, guilt and desperation swam in his eyes.
Alright. I slipped. I love only you, always have, Alice. Its true.
Slipped? I laughed bitterly, Three years of lies! How do you disrespect someone enough to do that?
Its not a lie, I really love you! I just wasnt there often, and I
Not there? Only cowards act like that! I shouted, stepping back, Youre a coward!
But I didnt leave, Alice, I didnt abandon you! he tried to grab my hand, Were together
I withdrew my hand. It no longer mattered whether he stayed or left; his pain was now a background hum to my own. I was beyond caring.
You didnt abandon me? I asked, bitter, You tormented yourself, ran between us, but never truly left
I couldnt! I love you!
Love? I shook my head, No, you stayed because it was convenient, not because you loved. I cant untangle your motives any longer. I must go. Mums getting worse.
Another plane. Another return to the Lake District, doctors, wards. The fight continued, now bearing both my mothers illness and the weight of Charless betrayal.
***
My mother passed in August. By New Years, I moved through days like a dream, mechanically performing necessary tasks. The house I once considered a fortress now felt foreign. Harry was my anchor, the sole reason I didnt dissolve into endless grey.
When the first months of despair faded, I woke a little, yet never fully. Every glance at Charles burned. I could not look at him, hear his voice, see his face. Still, I held on, driven by the need to care for Harry, who seemed to sense my turmoil.
Charles, realizing the depth of his transgression, tried to mend things. He stayed close, offered help, begged forgiveness, pleaded for a return to the way things were.
Alice, please, lets try again. I made a terrible mistake. I know. I never left when you went to Mum. Doesnt that prove my love?
My mind replayed those illicit messages, the words Id glimpsed while cleaning my phones memory. The lines that had slipped past me now rose with terrifying clarity.
You know, youre my everything, he had written to the other woman.
And her reply, etched in my memory:
Did I tell your wife everything right? Someone should have pushed her. Any other woman would have left, but you youre a rag!
I watched Harry building towers in the corner, his concentration reminding me of my own childhoodfocused, clever. He didnt deserve to grow up in a house where his mother suffers lies.
Charles entered with two mugs of tea.
Here, herbal. Have a sip.
I took the mug but didnt drink.
I cant, Harry
Alice, we agreedtime heals. Give us time. Id do anything for your forgiveness.
Time? I smiled bitterly, Time showed youre a master liar. You stayed because leaving became inconvenient, not because I was your love. Her words prove it. She told you to inform me, didnt she? A rag!
He tried to explain, I inhaled deeply.
I cant forgive you now. Maybe never. But I must live, and Harry must live. Well live apart. Ill send him to his aunt for a few weeks, and Ill stay with a friend. I need to figure out what I want next.
Charles paled, realizing this was not a pause but a real chance to lose everything.
Alice, dont do this. Please. Ill see a therapist, any specialist. Ill quit my job if you want. Just dont go.
Im not leaving you, Harry. Im leaving the lies, I whispered, I cant love you now, and living in falsehoods is no longer an option. Well speak when I returnif I ever return
***
I never returned. Two months passed apart, then I decided the family could not survive, even for Harrys sake. Harry changed jobs, cut ties with the other woman. Yet the young woman would always linger in his and my memory, an image I could never reconcile with. And that was that.
