**Diary Entry**
I was finally on my way to my beloved. Flying on the wings of happiness—our son had just finished school and started university. At last, my husband and I could live together.
The very day I sent our boy off, I bought a bus ticket and headed to Stephen. We’d been married only two years, but it felt like we’d known each other forever.
Our relationship had been complicated from the start—messy, difficult—but fate had promised us a happy future. At least, I was certain of it.
We met eight years ago, not long after my divorce from my first husband. I’d sworn off men for a while—until Stephen came along. Even then, I hesitated. He had to prove he wasn’t like my ex, David.
We dated for six months before moving in together. He came to my place because his tiny flat in Manchester couldn’t fit the three of us—me, him, and my ten-year-old boy. A lovely lad, though he took his time warming up to his stepdad.
Three years later, Stephen started talking about marriage. I wasn’t keen. What was the point? Legal papers didn’t stop people from straying. I was happy as we were.
At first, he respected that. But eventually, he insisted—marriage or nothing. His ultimatum grated on me. Fine, I said. We split.
For six months, we barely spoke. He’d moved to Leeds for a better-paying job, visiting his parents only occasionally. Then, one day, I bumped into him at the park.
I’d been strolling, carefree, until our eyes met. His gaze told me everything—he still loved me. And I still loved him.
We started seeing each other again—long-distance this time. Me visiting him, him visiting me. Every meet-up was planned, but always full of warmth and passion.
Once, maybe twice a month. He kept asking me to move in with him. He’d even bought a two-bed flat—still paying the mortgage, but it was his.
Part of me wanted to. But life wouldn’t let me. My son needed me. My mother had fallen ill, needing round-the-clock care. For two years, I nursed her.
*She’ll live a while yet!* the doctor had said cheerfully when she was finally discharged.
She didn’t cling to me after that, but Oliver started his GCSEs. He begged me not to move until he finished school. I gave in.
The summer before his A-levels, Stephen and I finally married. Seeing his joy, I almost regretted not doing it sooner—but no use crying over spilled milk.
We weren’t just dating now. Though still separated by miles, we were husband and wife in every sense.
And now? Oliver was off to uni. I was so proud. And free—finally, I could start my life with Stephen. I didn’t tell him I was coming. A surprise.
He probably guessed, but he didn’t know the date. I packed my suitcase, boarded the bus, and imagined his face when he walked in. I’d wear the lace lingerie I’d bought, scatter rose petals on the fresh sheets, cook his favourite meal…
Lost in thought, I barely noticed the journey. He’d be over the moon.
But then—the shock.
I unlocked his door with my key and froze. A red-haired girl stood there—pretty, young, blue eyes wide.
*Who are you?* I demanded.
*I’m Vera. Oh—you must be Hannah. I’m so sorry, I’ll leave now!*
*Leave?* I snapped. *Who are you?*
*Please don’t be upset. I’m your husband’s girlfriend.*
*My husband’s* what*? Are you serious?*
The world tilted. Like the earth had stopped spinning.
*Don’t worry. Stephen’s wonderful, and he loves you so much.*
*Loves me? Is that why he’s shacked up with you behind my back? How old are you—twenty?*
*Yes, just turned!* she stammered. *We met by chance. I had nowhere to go—he took me in. We were just friends, but I fell for him. I know he doesn’t love me. He’ll never love anyone but you. But he gets lonely… I just wanted to make it easier for him.*
It sounded insane. I’d never suspected a thing—no stray hairs, no misplaced belongings. Nothing.
*I’ll pack now. He didn’t know you were coming—that’s why I’m still here.*
*Wait—you’ve done this before?*
*For a year and a half. Every time you visit, I scrub the flat. Not a trace left. He didn’t want you hurt.*
*And you think* that *doesn’t hurt me?*
I didn’t know why I was still talking to her, but she kept babbling, nervous.
*There’s no point being upset! He loves* you*.*
*But sleeps with you when I’m gone?*
*Don’t dwell on it. He doesn’t feel anything for me.*
Just then, the door opened—Stephen. Vera must’ve texted him.
He looked devastated. *Hannah, love, this means nothing. It’s only you I love.* He reached for me, but I shoved him away.
*A year and a half of lies. Is this your love?*
*You told her* how long*?* he hissed at Vera. *How dare you?*
*Stephen, I’m sorry—you didn’t warn me she was coming.*
*I didn’t know myself!* He turned to me. *Sweetheart, she’s leaving. Let’s talk.*
*Nothing to talk about. Vera, no need to go. I’m the one leaving.*
*No!* she insisted. *You* must *stay. He’ll fall apart without you.*
*I decide where I belong,* I spat, grabbed my bag, and walked out.
I rode home in tears. How could he?
A girl barely older than my son. A year and a half—no hint, no slip-ups. How?
I hadn’t even rented out my flat. Just went back. For months, I festered in betrayal. Hated myself for still loving him.
Then one day—a knock. Vera stood there, holding a cat carrier. Marshmallow—Stephen’s cat. What was this?
*Hello. I’m sorry to show up unannounced. I got your address from Stephen… back when he was alive.*
*Alive?* My blood ran cold. *What happened?*
*After you left, he was wrecked. A week ago, he said he wasn’t coming back. I thought he was joking. Then—an accident. I think it was deliberate. He couldn’t live without you. I hated to be the one to tell you. But I didn’t know who’d take Marshmallow. Will you?*
I stared, numb, until she handed me the death certificate. No one had even told me. Vera had buried him, cleared his flat.
I took Marshmallow. The cat’s sad eyes mirrored my grief. The world stopped again—
*Miss, wake up—we’ve arrived!*
I jolted awake. The bus driver was shaking my shoulder. My face was wet.
*What a nightmare. God forbid.*
But doubt crept in—what if it was a premonition?
I decided not to warn Stephen. Just showed up, key in hand, bracing myself for Vera.
But only Marshmallow greeted me with a happy *meow.*
Stephen came home that evening to find me in rose petals and lace. His face lit up—pure joy.
*I’m here for good,* I said, smiling. Wondering—should I tell him about the dream?
*Finally!* he breathed, oblivious to what I’d just lived through in my sleep.
