Everything changed in the blink of an eye. I remember it clearly, as though it happened only yesterday, though years have slipped by. That day, we were quietly celebrating a family occasionmy husband, our daughter Emily, and I gathered to mark his fathers birthday. We spent the afternoon in our modest home just outside Oxford, laughter lingering about the kitchen as my father-in-law chuckled over old tales from his youth. After a warm supper, Emily and I offered to see him safely home, as my husbands limp had kept him from long walks for years, and hed had more than one glass of sherry that evening. I was certain hed be asleep by the time we returnedand I wasnt mistaken. He was slumped at the dining table, fast asleep, the glow of his open laptop bathing his features in blue light.
Emily disappeared to her room while I drifted towards the kitchen, thinking a cup of tea would lessen the heaviness I felt. That was when my eyes caught the laptop screenmy husband had left himself logged into one of those social networking sites. It looked as though hed tried to delete a message but hadnt quite managed. Drawn in by curiosity and something elsea premonition perhapsI stepped closer. The words I love you leaped out at me, cutting through everything. Hed written it to an old friend. My knees buckled and I collapsed onto the sofa, the world blurring at the edges.
My fathers warnings echoed in my mind. Hed never approved of my marriage to Richard, always fearing Id find heartache with him. For nearly twenty-eight years, Id managed to prove him wrong. Wed weathered so much together. I nursed Richard through illness, stayed beside him when he was forced into retirement by the council. It was a cruel blow; work was his anchor and he found himself adrift, but we clung to each other and survived. He found new work, thanked me countless times for my love and care, swore he was grateful beyond words. All thatnow, I realised hed lied.
I forced myself upright, uncertain what to do, and found my way to Emilys room. She looked up from her book, concern immediately clouding her face. I didnt even notice the tears streaming down my cheeks until she pulled me into a hug. Between choked breaths, I told her everything. Without hesitation, she dashed to her fathers computer. While I sat trembling, she quickly took a photo of the messages, then deleted them. To read such thingswords meant for another womantore at something deep inside me. It seemed their dalliance hadnt lasted more than a month or so, likely starting when Richard took on his new job. My thoughts spiralled and knotted themselves into confusion.
By now, Emily was already crafting a message to the other woman: If you really love him, then by all means, have him, she wrote, snapping another photo of her words for proof. Almost instantly, the woman vanished from the site. Then Emily sent her father a series of screenshots, along with a note: Be a man and go. She pressed another embrace upon me and whispered in my ear that I was strong, that wed get through this together, and she would never leave my side.
All that was left was to await Richards awakening. I had no idea how he would react. The ringing of his mobile startled both Emily and me; it was, of course, that woman. To my astonishment, Richard took the call, likely thinking we hadnt returned. The conversation was shortless than a minute. Then I heard him dress, his footsteps purposeful. He paused when passing us in the hall, but I turned away, gazing out the window to hide my face. Emily gave him the sweetest wave and smile.
The next time I saw him, hed come back just to collect a few things. I still struggle to believe that a familytwenty-eight years of history and devotioncan dissolve in a single, fragile moment. How does one ever trust a man again, after all wed shared? There were lovely words, tender gestures, a lifetime of memories. And in the endall that remained was divorce.
