**To the End**
Elizabeth found herself dining alone once again. The clock showed nine, and still no word from Edward. “Work must be running late,” she thought, though she didn’t quite believe it.
Lately, these “delays” had grown far too frequent. At first, it was sporadic—once every other week. Then weekly. Now, it seemed he hardly ever made it home on time.
She remembered how it all began. Edward claimed deadlines, urgent projects, office disasters. She believed him, waiting up late.
Then came the excuses—absurd, flimsy. On Monday, he swore he was stuck in the car park because a snowplough blocked his exit. Elizabeth stayed silent, watching. She knew full well his office had underground parking; no snowplough could reach it.
On Wednesday, he blamed an impromptu meeting, though his firm rarely held them—and if they did, it was over video calls in the mornings.
And yesterday? He’d insisted he’d been stranded at the office with… stomach trouble.
Elizabeth wasn’t naive. She knew he was hiding something. But she couldn’t pry the truth out with hysterics. What, then?
*How are you feeling?* she asked when he finally stumbled in, keeping her voice steady.
Edward slumped onto the bed with a sigh. *Not great. Must’ve been that dodgy takeaway.*
*Awful. I believe you,* she lied, watching for a reaction. *I’ll fetch you some medicine—helps every time.*
*No!* He nearly shouted, then caught himself. *The lads at work gave me something. Can’t recall the name, but it sorted me out.*
*Oh? Well, alright—but best remember next time. Never know what you’re taking.*
*Right,* he forced a smile. *I’ll shower and sleep it off.*
*Of course.* She brushed his cheek before slipping out.
As soon as the shower ran, she snatched his phone from the nightstand. Messages, calls—nothing suspicious. Then she checked the banking app.
*Transfer: £500 to Angelica W.* Her stomach twisted. The water shut off. She snapped the app closed and hurried back to the bedroom.
*Don’t panic. Don’t panic.* Who the hell was Angelica W.? A colleague? An accountant?
Sleep wouldn’t come. The bed felt vast and cold. Edward snored beside her, oblivious. Fragments of conversation, blurred faces, chased her into shallow dreams.
She jolted awake.
*Angelica.* The name burned into her mind—his ex, the one he’d barely mentioned. *Just a silly school fling*, he’d always said.
Now the odd hours, the excuses, the sudden “stomach bugs”—all made sense. And the money…
She sat trembling, clutching her knees.
*Just a silly school fling,* echoed in her head.
By dawn, she hadn’t slept. She studied Edward’s face, piecing it together. Angelica was his past, but why now? Why the money?
Quietly, she slipped out. Coffee. A notepad. A plan.
*Confront him?* He’d only lie. *Hire a detective?* Too drastic. *Find Angelica herself?*
No time to waste. She opened his socials—mostly recent: holidays, work events. But buried deep, one photo stood out. A younger Edward, arm around a girl.
Angelica.
Elizabeth shut the laptop, sighed. Two choices now: ignore it and risk worse, or act—no matter how bitter the truth.
The answer was clear.
That evening, she sat in the lounge, fiddling with her phone. She’d rehearsed her speech when the door opened.
*We need to talk,* Edward said, voice hollow.
*I was about to say the same.*
*Let me speak.* He sank onto the hallway stool. *You won’t like this. I don’t expect forgiveness, but don’t judge me yet.*
Her pulse spiked.
*Remember Angelica? My first love. Sixth form till uni.* His voice wavered.
Elizabeth felt the noose tighten.
*She got pregnant right after. I was young, stupid, selfish. Terrified.* He paused.
She wanted to shake him. The pause said it all. A child. A father’s guilt.
*I paid her off, sent her to the clinic. Then I vanished.* His words dripped shame. *She begged me later—complications, infections. I ignored her.*
*She… ended it?* Elizabeth asked, hating the flicker of hope in her voice.
*Yes. But it went wrong. Three surgeries later—no womb. And now… cancer. Three months, if that.*
Silence.
*I lied. I’m ashamed. But she’s alone. No family, no husband, no kids.* He gripped his head. *She needed me then—I failed her.*
Elizabeth stood frozen. Anger. Jealousy. Pity.
*You blame yourself?*
*Yes.*
*It was just bad luck.*
*Luck I caused.*
*Can anything be done?*
*No. She’s fading. The hospital says to take her home—let her go comfortably.*
Elizabeth inhaled sharply. *And she has no one?*
Edward nodded.
She stepped back, hands pressed to her chest. He hadn’t even taken off his coat.
*I won’t leave you. But I doubt you’ll stay after this. It’s the least I can do.*
*So you’ll be with her…*
*Till the end.*
The words hung between them.
*And if I say no?*
*Then I’ll lie. Every day. Until it destroys us.*
She shut her eyes. She loved him—yet he stood a stranger, burdened by a past mistake now devouring their present.
*I don’t know if I can forgive you. For then. For hiding it now. For this choice.*
He moved to embrace her; she stepped away.
*I’m not asking forgiveness. Just… know the truth. I love you. But I have to do this.*
He took his keys.
She watched him leave, powerless. Easier, almost, if he’d had an affair.
Hours crawled. She paced, sat, paced again.
Anger flared—then faltered. His eyes—raw, unguarded. No excuses, just pain.
*He didn’t betray me. He’s fixing a mistake.*
Her phone glowed on the table. She reached for it.
*I understand. I love you. Let’s help her.*
Minutes passed. Then:
*Thank you.*
Tears fell. She’d chosen right.
