Im thirty, and Ive come to realise that the deepest betrayals never strike from the hands of enemies. They wound you from those who once looked in your eyes and promised, Youre like a sister to me. Ill always be by your side.
For eight years, I had a best friend. It was the kind of friendship that felt thicker than blood. She knew every secret I carried. Wed shed tears togetheronce well past midnight. Wed laugh until dawn. Wed whisper our dreams and the things that kept us awake at night.
When I got married, she was the first to hold me and say:
You deserve this, love. Hes a wonderful man. Guard him well.
Back then, it sounded so earnest.
But now, when I look over my shoulder at the past, I realise some people dont wish you happiness. They just linger, waiting for things to unravel.
I was never the jealous type. I always believed that if a woman carried herself with dignity, there was nothing to fear, and that if a man was honourable, suspicions had no home. My husband never gave me a single reason to doubt him.
Not once.
Which made what happened feel like icy water splashed across my face.
And the bitterness? It didnt come all at once. It crept in quietly. In small ways I brushed aside so I wouldnt look paranoid.
It began with the way she started visiting us. Once, it was all girly nights in, mugs of tea, endless chatter. Out of the blue, shed show up overdressedheels, perfume, fancy dresses. Id brush it off; shes a woman, after all.
But then it changed. She walked innot looking for me first. Shed beam a smile straight at him.
Wow, youre getting more attractive every time I see youhow do you manage it?
Id let out an uneasy laugh.
Hed respond, polite as ever.
Im well, thanks.
Then shed start inquiring into things that werent her concern.
Still working late?
Are you exhausted?
Does she take care of you?
Shethat she being me.
Not your wife, but her.
And something inside me knotted subtly.
Yet, Im not one for drama. I believe in manners and decency. The thought that my closest friend might be angling for more than friendship was just unthinkable.
But the tiny changes kept coming. When the three of us were together, shed talk as though I was the outsider and the two of them shared some special link. Worst of all, he didnt see it. He was the sort of man who means well, and I clung to that for solace.
Untilthe messages started.
One night, I was looking for a photo on his phoneno, Im not the snooping type, I just wanted a picture from our holiday to share. Thats when I saw the chat with her name right at the top.
The last message: Tell me honestly If you werent married, would you have chosen me?
I sat on the sofa, unable to move. Read it three times. Checked the dateit was from that very afternoon.
My heart thudded with an awkward emptiness, as if the hollow echo of my ribs was shouting at me.
I went to the kitchen, found him making tea.
Can I ask you something?
Of course, he said.
I caught his gaze.
Whys she texting you like this?
He looked confused.
What sort of things?
My voice was eerily calm.
If you werent married, would you have chosen me?
He turned pale.
You looked through my messages?
Yes. It popped up. But theres no accident about that phrase. Thats not normal.
He stumbled, flustered.
Shes just… joking.
I let out a small, tired laugh.
Thats no joke. Thats a test.
Theres nothing between us, I swear.
All right. So what did you reply?
He fell silent.
That silence cut deeper than words.
What did you say? I whispered.
He looked away.
I told her not to talk nonsense.
Show me.
Then he said,
Theres no need.
But when someone starts hiding, thats exactly when it becomes necessary.
I quietly lifted his phone and read the message.
Hed written:
Dont put me in these situations you know I value you.
Value.
Not stop.
Not respect my wife.
Just value.
I fixed my stare on him.
Do you realise what that sounds like?
Please dont blow this out of proportion
Its not nothing. Thats a boundary, and you didnt put it in place.
He tried to hug me.
Come on lets not fight. Shes lonelyshes having a rough time.
I pulled away.
Dont make me the villain for reacting. My friend is asking my husband what if. Thats humiliating.
He said, Ill talk to her.
And I believed him
because I want to believe.
The next day, she rang.
Her voice dripped honey.
Darling, we need a chat. Its all a misunderstanding.
We sat in a little café. She gave me that innocent look shed always used.
I dont know what you think you saw she began. We just chat. Hes a mate.
He might be your mate, but Im supposed to be your friend.
You always twist things.
Im not twisting. I saw the message.
She sighed, theatrically.
You know what your problem is? Youre so insecure.
Those words sliced deep.
Not because they were true.
But because they were convenient for her.
The classic defence: if you react, you must be mad.
I looked at her, cold and steady.
If you cross the line in my marriage again, there wont be any more conversation. Ill end it.
She smiled.
Of course. Enough drama. It wont happen again.
That should have been the moment I stopped believing.
But I believed againbecause hope is easier than doubt.
Weeks passed; she barely contacted me. I thought, Thats it. Its finished.
Until one night, something shook me to my core.
We were visiting family. My husband left his phone on the table after a call from his mum and forgot it there.
The screen flashed.
Message from her:
Couldnt sleep last night. I was thinking about you.
It didnt hurt, not exactly.
It just became clear.
Crystal clear.
No tears. No scene.
I just stared at the screen like I was seeing truth itself.
I put his phone in my handbag. Waited till we got home.
As soon as the door clicked behind us, I said,
Sit down.
He smiled. Whats wrong?
Sit.
He sensed it.
He sat.
I put the phone on the table.
Read that.
He glanced downhis expression shifted.
Its not what you think
Please, dont insult me. Just give me the truth.
He started a speech,
She keeps messaging I dont reply like that shes emotional
I cut him off.
I want to see the entire chat.
He clenched his jaw.
Thats too much.
I laughedcold and hollow.
Is it too much to want honesty from my own husband?
He stood up.
You dont trust me!
Noyou gave me reason not to.
And then, he confessed.
Not with words.
With a gesture.
He unlocked the chat.
And I saw.
Months.
Months of messages.
Not every day, not direct.
But those messages that slowly build a bridge.
A bridge between two people.
With how are you.
With been thinking of you.
With only you understand.
With sometimes she doesnt get me.
She was always me.
And then, the line from him:
Sometimes I wonder what my life wouldve been if Id met you first.
I couldnt breathe.
He stared at the carpet.
Ive not done anything he said. Weve never met up
I didnt ask if theyd met.
Because even if they hadnt
This was betrayal.
Quiet. Emotional. Betrayal.
I sank into a chair, legs trembling.
You said youd speak to her.
He whispered,
I tried.
No. You just hoped Id never find out.
And then, the final blow:
You have no right to make me choose between you.
I stared at him.
A long moment.
Im not making you choose. You already didwhen you let this happen.
He began to sobreal tears.
Im sorry I didnt want this
I didnt shout.
I didnt humiliate him.
I didnt lash out.
I just walked to the bedroom, began packing my clothes.
He followed.
Pleasedont go.
I didnt look back.
Where will you go?
To my mothers.
Youre overreacting
The phrase overreacting always comes when the truth hurts the most.
I said quietly,
Im not overreacting. I just refuse to live in a triangle.
He dropped to his knees.
Ill block her. Ill end everything. I promise.
I looked at him for the first time.
I dont want you to block her for me. I want you to have done it for yourself. Because youre a man. Because you stand for something. But you didnt.
He was silent.
I took my bag.
Stopped at the door.
The worst thing isnt your messages. The worst is you let me remain friends with someone quietly trying to replace me.
And I left.
Not because I gave up on my marriage.
But because I wouldnt struggle alone for something meant for two.
And for the first time in years, I told myself
Better the pain of a cold truth
than the comfort of a warm lie.
What would you do in my placecould you forgive just emotional infidelity, or is this betrayal enough?
