“Betrayal”
“Emily… Emily…” Rebecca sobbed into the phone.
“What’s wrong? Stop crying and tell me properly! Is it about James? Rebecca, why won’t you speak?” shouted Charlotte into the receiver.
“W-w-w… Daniel… Oh God…” Rebecca wailed again.
“Daniel? Did something happen to Daniel? Was there an accident?” Charlotte pictured Rebecca shaking her head as if she could somehow see her through the phone.
“That’s it, I’ve had enough. I’m hanging up, alright? I’ll be there in ten minutes—wait for me,” Charlotte said, pausing for a moment to listen to her friend’s sobs. Realizing she wouldn’t get any more sense out of her, she ended the call.
She quickly changed, grabbed her handbag, checked for her phone and other essentials, and left the flat, locking the door behind her. Rebecca lived just a short walk away, so Charlotte hurried on foot, breaking into a run at times while muttering under her breath: “Honestly, she never gives a straight answer. She’ll get an earful if she’s dragged me out over nothing…”
Five minutes later, she stood at the building’s entrance, pressing the intercom buttons. The speaker crackled.
“Becky, it’s me, open up,” Charlotte called. More static from the speaker, then a beep as the lock clicked. Charlotte rushed inside. The door swung shut behind her, plunging her into darkness after the bright daylight. No time to wait for her eyes to adjust—she stepped toward the lift and immediately tripped, nearly falling before catching the railing.
“Bloody hell, could kill myself here. Can’t they put a stronger bulb in?” she grumbled.
Waiting impatiently for the lift, she tapped her foot, running through every awful possibility in her head while silently praying, “Please just let them be alive and unharmed…” Outside Rebecca’s door, she paused for a moment, listening. No screams or sobbing—already a good sign. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the doorbell.
Rebecca answered, face puffy and red from crying. Like a zombie, she turned and shuffled stiffly to the kitchen. Charlotte sighed, shook her head, kicked off her trainers, and followed.
Rebecca slumped onto a chair, head and shoulders drooping, her hands limp in her lap. Everything about her screamed surrender to whatever cruel twist life had thrown her way.
“Becky, what’s happened? You scared me,” Charlotte said, placing a hand on her back. “Tell me, I’m going mad here. Ran over like a lunatic.”
“Daniel left me,” Rebecca said, voice hollow and toneless.
“Left you? For someone else?”
Rebecca nodded.
“How? Did he tell you, or are you just assuming?” Charlotte asked. She wasn’t shocked. Daniel was handsome—the type men envied and women chased. She’d warned Rebecca before: keep him close, always look your best, because temptation was everywhere.
“He said he loves someone else, packed his things, and left. Char, tell me why? I did everything—cooking, cleaning, laundry, even lost the baby weight to stay slim. I had his child! And he still walked out.”
Charlotte exhaled sharply. “Everyone’s alive and well, and you’re wailing like it’s a funeral. He’ll have his fun and come crawling back.” She dropped onto the nearest chair.
“You really think he will?” Rebecca’s head snapped up, hope flashing in her eyes.
“Who knows? Maybe. What’s she like then? Pretty? Younger?”
“My age. Big, ginger, cross-eyed.” Rebecca shuddered. “Char, what does he even see in her? I’m miles better, and yet—” A sob cut her off as she buried her face again.
“Stop blaming yourself. Midlife crisis, hormones, temporary madness. He’ll snap out of it.”
Rebecca shook her head, shoulders trembling.
“Quit crying! Pull yourself together. If he sees you like this, he’ll bolt for sure.” That only made Rebecca wail louder, like she had on the phone.
“Listen, tears won’t change a thing. Even if he comes back, you think things will go back to normal? Dream on.” Charlotte switched tactics—no more coddling. “You’ll forgive him, but then what? You’ll stew over every late night, pick fights, torture yourself, him, and Ethan. Speaking of, where is he?”
“At the neighbor’s.”
“Good. He doesn’t need to see his mum like this. He’s a boy—he shouldn’t grow up with drama and tears.” Charlotte sighed.
“Stop crying! You’ll land yourself in a psych ward. You’ve got Ethan. It’s hard, but you’ll survive. How do you even know she’s cross-eyed? Have you seen her?”
“Saw her picture on his phone. He was in the shower, and she rang… Then I found her online. Tell me, what do men even want? We think they drool over skinny models with fake boobs, but no! He left me for someone twice my size!”
“Probably not about looks. Maybe something else hooked him,” Charlotte mused.
“Oh, spare me the ‘soulmates’ rubbish. Hers is rotten. She’ll pay for this,” Rebecca sniffed, wiping her cheeks with her sleeve.
“Rebecca, get a grip. You’re gorgeous, fit, young—what, thirty-two? God, you’ve got your whole life ahead!”
“I don’t want a life without him. I love him,” Rebecca groaned, face twisted with stifled sobs. “It’s unbearable—painful, humiliating, terrifying. I’d rather die.”
“Oi, none of that! Don’t you dare. Got any wine?” Charlotte stood and rummaged in the fridge. “Right, let’s drink. It’ll help.” She grabbed a half-finished bottle and filled two glasses to the brim, shoving one at Rebecca.
“Down it. Best medicine. You’ll feel better.”
Rebecca obeyed, gulping it like water, then handed back the empty glass.
“We dreamed of moving to a bigger place. His company built houses for staff—half for sale, half for employees. If he’d handed over our flat, we’d have gotten it cheap. Now he’ll live there with her, and Ethan and I are stuck here.”
“Stop crying! Tears ruin your skin, give you wrinkles. You’ll look awful.”
“I feel so sick, I could die,” Rebecca swayed on the chair like a pendulum.
“You’re being ridiculous. If you hurt yourself, what then? Think Daniel will care? Feel guilty? No. He’d brag—’I’m so amazing, my wife killed herself over me.’ And his new woman? She’d gloat. Meanwhile, you’d be rotting in the ground. And Ethan? Orphanage or stepmum—he’d never forgive you. Ever.”
“Suicides don’t go to heaven. No one knows what’s out there, but imagine the worst…” Charlotte leaned in. “Where would you end up?”
Rebecca stopped sniffling and stared. For a second, they locked eyes.
“Oh, piss off,” Rebecca finally muttered, swiping a hand through the air. “I’m not topping myself. He’s not worth it.”
“Thank God, you’re finally talking sense. Fancy another?” She poured the last of the wine.
“Char, thanks for coming. You always know what to say.” Rebecca downed hers. “Don’t go, please. Stay tonight. I feel better with you here.”
“Course. Shame the bottle’s empty. Want me to pop to the shop?”
“No, just stay.” Rebecca stood, wobbled, and collapsed back onto the chair, laughing weakly.
“Sit tight. I’ll put the kettle on.”
They drank tea, scalding their tongues as dusk settled outside. Rebecca’s tears dried, her gaze sharpening.
“Need to fetch Ethan and put him to bed,” she said, attempting to rise again, this time more steadily. She shuffled toward the door.
Soon she returned with Ethan in tow. He eyed the bottle and glasses on the table, shooting Charlotte a disapproving look.
“Hey, champ,” Charlotte smiled.
“We had tea. Bedtime now, or you’ll sleep through nursery,” Rebecca nudged him toward his room.
“He’s a good lad,” Charlotte said when Rebecca returned. “He’s the one I feel for in all this. But you’ll be fine. You’re calmer now. I should head home—it’s late.”
“Don’t go. I’m scared to be alone. The sofa’s comfy. Please.”
Morning came with Ethan’s voice: “Mum, I’m thirsty.”
Rebecca pried an eye open, saw sunlight, and bolted upright, gripping her head.
“We overslept! Charlotte, get up!” She dashed around, throwing on clothes.
“How am I meant to show up to work like this?” Charlotte squinted, blinking against the light.
“You look fine. HurOver time, Rebecca learned to rebuild her life, realizing that her worth wasn’t tied to a man who had walked away, and though the scars of betrayal lingered, she found strength in the quiet moments of love and laughter she shared with Ethan.
