**The Mistake That Changed Everything**
My hands trembled as I dialled the number. My heart pounded as if it might burst from my chest. “Hello, Sophie, I did what you said! I slipped that powder into her coffee. I was waiting for it to take effect before leaving. But for God’s sake, what was it? You can’t just put something like that in coffee! Emily went pale, she felt sick—like she’d swallowed poison! How was I supposed to know that would happen? I’m not a doctor!” My voice cracked, panic and guilt swirling in my head. How had I let it come to this?
It all started a fortnight ago, when my life seemed to be falling apart. Emily and I had been married for seven years, and the last two had been nothing but cracks and fractures. Constant arguments, misunderstandings, her endless nagging—I couldn’t take it anymore. Emily had changed. The cheerful, caring woman I’d fallen in love with had become someone perpetually dissatisfied. I tried talking to her, but every conversation ended in a row. At some point, I thought divorce was the only way out. Then Sophie came along.
Sophie was a colleague, someone I often bumped into during tea breaks. She always listened—no judgement, just sympathy. Gradually, our chats grew closer, and I felt at ease with her in a way I hadn’t in years. One day, after yet another fight with Emily, I confided in Sophie, admitting I didn’t know how to break the cycle. That’s when she suggested something that sounded mad at first. “There’s a way,” she said with a sly smile. “Slip something into her tea. Nothing bad, just a little something to relax her, mellow her out. I’ll give you the powder—it’s harmless.” I laughed, thinking she was joking, but her face was dead serious. She handed me a small sachet. “Try it. Couldn’t hurt.”
I hesitated for days. Spiking my wife’s tea? It sounded like something from a cheap thriller. But Sophie insisted it was just a mild sedative, something to help Emily soften, to give us a chance to fix things. I was so worn down by the arguments that eventually, I agreed. That morning, while Emily was in the shower, I made her tea and, feeling like a complete fool, sprinkled in the powder. My hands shook, but I convinced myself it was harmless. Sophie had promised, hadn’t she?
Emily drank it, none the wiser. I watched her, expecting drowsiness, calm—what Sophie had described. But half an hour later, she went pale, clutched her stomach, and said she felt ill. She collapsed onto the sofa, breathing heavy, while I spiralled into panic. “Emily, what’s wrong? Should I call an ambulance?” She waved me off, blaming it on something she’d eaten. I rushed to the balcony and called Sophie, demanding to know what she’d given me. Her calm reply only made it worse: “Oh, James, relax, it’s just herbal. Maybe she’s allergic? Give her water—she’ll be fine.” But Emily was getting worse, and a terrible thought took hold—what if it *was* poison?
I dialled 999 without waiting. The paramedics arrived swiftly, examined Emily, and took her straight to hospital. One asked if she’d eaten anything unusual or taken medication. I mumbled that I didn’t know, guilt twisting my insides. What if they found the powder? What if I’d poisoned my own wife? At the hospital, they told me she’d suffered severe poisoning but was stable. The cause was still unknown, but all I could think about was my fault in it.
That evening, I called Sophie again, my tone venomous. “What did you give me?” I shouted. “Emily nearly died! If that was poison, I’ll go straight to the police!” She backpedalled, swearing it was “just a relaxant,” that she’d used it herself, that I must’ve misjudged the dose. But I wasn’t buying it. I remembered how she’d pushed me, how she’d assured me nothing would go wrong—and realised she’d manipulated me. Did she want to ruin my marriage to have me for herself? Or was it something darker? I didn’t know, but one thing was clear: I’d made a terrible mistake trusting her.
Now Emily’s still in hospital, though the doctors say she’ll recover. I sit in our empty flat, staring at her favourite mug, torn apart by guilt. I never meant to hurt her—I just wanted us to be happy again. Instead, I almost lost her. I’ve decided to tell her the truth once she’s stronger. Let her choose whether to forgive me. And I’ll find out what that powder really was. If Sophie gave me something dangerous, I won’t let it slide.
This mess has taught me one thing: never trust an outsider with matters of the heart. I nearly destroyed my family because I was weak and foolish. Now, I’m praying Emily recovers and that we get a second chance. Sophie? She’s done meddling in our lives. Some mistakes cost more than others—but I hope I’ve still got time to fix this one.
