**Shadows of Betrayal: The Path to a New Dawn**
Elizabeth often traveled for work, leaving for a day or two each month to visit the company’s head office in a neighboring town. Anthony had grown accustomed to her absence and never complained. They worked for different firms, sharing evenings and weekends—when they could. Anthony had his own passion—fishing—and often disappeared with friends into the countryside. Elizabeth didn’t mind, knowing her husband needed his own space.
They had spent twenty-four years together, trusting each other without question. Their daughter had recently married and moved away, leaving Elizabeth to her books and tea with friends. Peace reigned in their home—she was gentle, avoided arguments, smoothed tensions before they could grow. Anthony loved it.
But for some men, there comes a moment when the devil whispers in their ear. That moment found Anthony. He fell for Veronica—a colleague ten years younger, unmarried, bright and bold. She had charmed the office, befriended everyone, and set her sights on him. Among the men at work, he seemed the most confident, the most polished, and somehow, always near her.
Their colleagues noticed the growing flirtation and whispered warnings—Anthony was known as a devoted husband. Yet he acted like a lovesick boy! Veronica only laughed. She was the sort who chased married men, considering them easy prey. She had form—her last job ended in scandal when a boss’s wife confronted her in the break room.
Anthony, who had never strayed, lost all sense. At forty-seven, he felt invincible, openly admiring Veronica. Weekends vanished under the excuse of fishing trips. Elizabeth grew suspicious. One evening, she teased, “Anthony, you’re never home these days. Found someone new, darling?”
“Don’t be daft, Liz!” he scoffed. “The lads keep calling, you know how it is.”
For six months, he led a double life. Veronica’s pull grew stronger; he spent every spare hour with her, even bringing her home when Elizabeth was away. Returning from a business trip early—reports filed, project approved—Elizabeth hummed along to the radio as her silver car glided down the motorway.
“I’ll take tomorrow off,” she thought. “Friday, I was meant to be back then. Buy some wine, spend the evening with Anthony—before he runs off to fish again.”
She opened the door to find his boots and a pair of women’s shoes. “Has our daughter visited?” she wondered. But stepping into the lounge, she froze. A young woman in a short robe lounged on the sofa, while Anthony emerged from the bedroom, hastily buttoning his shirt.
“Liz? What—you’re back tomorrow—”
“No, today,” she said, voice icy. “What is this? Who is she?”
“Hello, I’m Veronica,” the woman cut in. “We work together. Just stopped by—”
“Like that?” Elizabeth turned on her heel and slammed the door behind her.
In her car, she sobbed. Her world had shattered. She’d heard of betrayals but never dreamed it would happen to her. Now, here it was—naked and shameless.
“And there I trusted him,” she thought bitterly. “How long has this been going on? Must be routine if he’s bringing her *here*.”
She stayed the night at her mother’s. By morning, she’d bought a new lock, asked her son-in-law to install it. She packed Anthony’s things in a bag and left them by the door. The night’s turmoil had settled into clarity—she would divorce him. She knew his silver tongue too well to listen.
That evening, she met him at the door. As he fumbled with the unfamiliar lock, she pushed the bag forward and blocked his path. “Take your things and go. I won’t see you again—you know I don’t forgive. If it was just an affair, fine. But *here*? In our bedroom? We’ll meet in court.”
Anthony begged—“Liz, let me explain! I don’t know what came over me!”—but she was stone. He waited outside her work, her mother’s, her friend’s—but she never relented. At the hearing, he tried again, met only by frost.
With Veronica, the fire faded. Anthony grew irritable; she grew impatient. Then she announced she was pregnant. “A baby?” he scoffed. “I’m nearly fifty—no midnight screams for me. I want peace.”
“Do what you like,” she snapped. “I’m keeping it. Pay up or play dad—your choice.”
So Anthony raised a son in a joyless home, Veronica always demanding more. By the boy’s third birthday, he dreamed of escape. His friends shook their heads. “A wife like Liz? You’ll never find that again.” Regret gnawed at him.
Five years passed. Elizabeth learned to live alone, the wound scabbed over. A friend urged her, “Liz, remarry—if only to spite him! You’re too young to rot alone. Let’s find you someone.”
“No one’s worth the risk,” she lied. The loneliness ached, but admitting it felt like weakness. She refused to fill the void with just anyone—better to build a life for herself.
Then, one sleepless night, a tooth throbbed. By morning, she sat in a crowded dental clinic. The receptionist sent her to a room where a dentist frowned at her. “Wisdom tooth coming in. Wisdom arrives on its own schedule. Let’s get an X-ray.”
In the busy scanner room, she waited afterward in the hall. Fifteen minutes later, a nurse beckoned. Elizabeth shuffled after her. Inside, two dentists worked—one young, one older. The elder gestured to the chair.
He studied the image and frowned. “Right, extracting second and fourth—wait, this isn’t right. You’re fine.”
Elizabeth exhaled. “They said a wisdom tooth.”
He checked the name. “Your surname?”
“Miller.”
“This says *Millerson*,” he replied.
From the next chair, a voice chimed, “That’s me.”
Laughter bubbled up. Through chuckles, the dentist said, “Switched scans, similar names. Good catch—imagine the mess otherwise.” His gaze lingered warmly. “Don’t worry, wisdom will come. Come back in two days—seven o’clock.”
She told her friend later, and they cackled over the mix-up. Two nights on, she returned. The dentist smiled. “Everything alright? Any pain?”
“No, following orders,” she said.
He studied her, then said suddenly, “I’m David. I read your file—Elizabeth, right? Free for coffee? I noticed you’re unattached. That… pleases me.”
She blinked. “Do you ask all your patients out?”
“Never before,” he admitted. “But when you walked in, I thought—fate. I’ve been alone six years, but maybe it’s time for happiness.”
She nodded. “Alright. Coffee.”
They talked past closing time, met again and again. David had been divorced six years, buried himself in work to fill the silence of his country house.
One evening over dessert, he slid a velvet box across the table. “Elizabeth, my love, marry me. I’ll cherish you. You’ll never regret choosing me.”
She smiled, eyes glinting. “Yes. I know I’ll be safe with you. This wasn’t an accident—we were meant to share our joy.”
