My wife lay peacefully beside me, her breathing deep and even after a long day at work. The room was quiet, shadows stretching slowly across the walls of our new home. Suddenly, my phone buzzeda Facebook notification. Someone had sent me a friend request.
Curious, I glanced at the screen. It was from a woman, her name unfamiliar at first, but her photograph unmistakably her. I accepted the request and, without thinking, sent a message: Do we know each other?
Her reply came swift and candid: I heard you got married, but I still love you.
She was an old friend, a face from years past, looking radiant and inviting in her profile picture.
I closed the chat window, my gaze drifting back to my wife, lost in dreams. She was sleeping in a new place, miles away from her family, the people whose laughter and stories used to lull her each night. When she felt homesick, shed call her mother for comfort or tease her siblings until her sadness faded. Her father would bring home little gifts, things that made her smile.
Now, here she was, trusting me completely, believing in our life together.
All these memories tangled in my mind, and in a rush of conviction, I picked up my phone and pressed BLOCK, firmly cutting off the past.
I turned to her, pulled her close, and let myself drift into sleep beside her.
I am a man, not a boy. I promised her loyalty; I will always keep that promise. I will never betray her, never tear apart the family we are building. I will fight to remain the man she believes ina husband who honours his vows forever.
