15October2025
It feels strange to write this down, but I need to untangle the knot in my head.
The coffee machine on the kitchen counter still hummed when I saw Daniels phone lying face up. A notification had already popped up before Id even realized what it was: Missing you, love. A heart emoji. A kiss. And a name I didnt recognize Olivia.
Daniel spun around from the kettle, and for a split second something flickered in his eyes not fear, but irritation, quickly masked by his usual lighthearted sigh.
Are you snooping through my phone? I asked, already reaching for it.
It lit up on its own, he said. I unlocked the screen with the swipe we both knew; our passwords were interchangeable. Whos Olivia?
He turned away and pressed a button on the machine.
Just a colleague.
Your colleague sends you missing you, love?
I scrolled through the messages, feeling my fingers grow cold with each swipe. Photos, voice notes, weekend plans that Daniel pretended were for a conference in Manchester, jokes only we understood, and dates that stretched back to March. It was now September.
Six months. One hundred and eighty days of me making his breakfasts, waiting for him after work, planning holidays, believing we were happy.
Dan, thats half a year of texts, I said.
The coffee machine fell silent. He lifted his mug, took a sip, and I noted with a detached clarity that he seemed completely calm.
Kate, dont start.
Dont start? I stared at him, searching his familiar face for even a hint of remorse or embarrassment. Nothing. Just the fatigue of a man whose morning coffee had been interrupted.
Youve been cheating on me for six months, and Im supposed to keep quiet?
He set the mug down, ran his hand over his cheek.
Its complicated. Lets talk tonight; Im already late.
He grabbed his briefcase, gave me a quick kiss on the cheeka habit hed had for yearsand left. The door clicked shut softly, and I stood alone in the kitchen.
I replayed the messages over and over, hoping for an explanation. Was it a prank? Had I misread something? The photos didnt lie: Daniel with a blonde stranger in a restaurant by the Thames, on a balcony, inside someones flat. Selfies with matching smiles, fingers intertwined.
I tried to pinpoint when things went wrong. Our morning chats, shared dinners, plans to buy a bigger house, maybe get a dog. Nothing hinted at trouble. Absolutely nothing.
Or perhaps I just didnt want to see it.
About forty minutes after the call, Anne burst through the front door, a bag of fresh croissants in hand, and flopped onto the sofa opposite me.
Tell me, she said.
I rattled off the story, hopping between facts and feelings. Anne listened in silence, her expression growing ever more serious.
I dont get it, I said, running my fingers through my hair for the tenth time. Everything was fine. We were happy. How did this happen?
Anne paused, then asked gently, Kate, did you notice anything at all? Anything unusual?
Notice what? He came home, we ate together, we spent weekends away. A normal family!
She took a breath, and I could see the words gathering like a storm behind her eyes. Do you remember how you two met?
I blinked.
What does that have to?
It matters. You met three years ago at a corporate gathering. You were working in their outsourced accounts department.
And?
And Daniel was married to Mary at the time. You two were involved while he was still married. After two years he divorced Mary and married you.
My mouth opened, then shut. My head spun, the croissants suddenly smelling overly sweet and out of place.
Thats different, I managed. We loved each other. He told me his marriage with Mary was long over. They were just dragging out the divorce.
Annes gaze hardened. He cheated on his wife for two years. With you. Why did you think hed be faithful to you?
Because its different with me! I shouted, wrapping my arms around myself. Because he chose me. Daniel changed after we married.
Anne shook her head. He didnt change. Hes just himself. He loves himself more than anyone else. Everyone elsewife, lover, jobis just scenery. He takes what he wants when he wants it. Loyalty is boring to him; limits are for other people.
You dont know him.
I know men like him. She reached for my hand. Remember how you used to dream that hed leave Mary? How you waited for his call, convincing yourself that soon youd finally be together for real?
I fell silent. Of course I rememberedevery sleepless night, every canceled dinner, every lie I told friends to cover our secret meetings. Two years as his other woman felt humiliating and painful, yet I endured, waited, believed.
You got what you wanted, Anne said softly but without mercy. He divorced, married you. And you know what happened? The role of the lover became vacant. Daniel cant live without that thrill, that forbidden excitement. Youre now his respectable wife, and that makes you boring.
Im not boring!
I sank back onto the sofa, the truth Anne was spouting gnawing at something deep inside me.
Since April, Daniel had been traveling for work more and moreevery fortnight, sometimes weekly. I told myself it was just business, late meetings, negotiations, corporate events he couldnt bring his wife to.
And the bedroom. I painfully recalled the last few months: him coming home exhausted, kissing my forehead, turning his back to the wall. I blamed stress, age, anything to avoid facing the truth.
I need to see it with my own eyes, I whispered.
Spying on my own husband felt degrading, but the logistics were simple. I took a sick day and trailed him after work for three days. On the second day, luck was on my side.
He left his office at seven, got into his car, and drove not home but to a café in the city centre. Five minutes later a young woman slipped into the passenger seat. She was about twentysix, blonde, with a stylish bob and a confident smilethe Olivia from the messages. I recognised her from the photos.
Daniel lifted her hand to his lips, whispered something, and she laughed, throwing her head back. The gesture was familiar; I had done the same three years ago.
They were at the same restaurant Id taken him to on their first date. The sign above the door read The Riverside. He ordered the duck breast and the Eton Mess dessert, just as he always did when trying to impress her. He talked about his childhood in Newcastle, his dream of traveling the world, and stared into Olivias eyes with that hungry, promising look.
The scene replayed with exact precisionthe same table by the window, the same polite chatter, the same practiced charm. Why reinvent the wheel when the old routine works?
I went home, waiting for his return. He slipped in at eleven, reeking of a new, floral aftershave that wasnt mine.
We need to talk.
He sighed, removed his coat, draped it over the back of the chair.
What now, Kate? Im exhausted
I saw you today.
He froze for a heartbeat, then shrugged.
So you were watching, huh?
Answer me.
Yes, I was with Olivia. He leaned back, crossing his legs, a practiced look of sincerity spreading across his facethe one Id believed in for three years. It means nothing, Kate. Listen. He leaned forward, his voice soft and convincing. I love you. Youre my wife. Olivia is just an adventure. It doesnt change us.
Did you tell Mary the same nonsense?
He snapped, Thats different.
Is it? You cheated on Mary, then cheat on me with Olivia. Whats the difference?
Ive changed, Kate. After the wedding I really wanted to be faithful, but it just happened. He spread his arms. Ill end things with Olivia. I promise. From now on, its only you.
His promise sounded rehearsed, smooth. I looked at him and saw the emptiness behind the pretty wordsa habit of lying that had become second nature, ego cloaked in charm. He could not love anyone but himself. He didnt want to learn.
No.
What? No?
I dont need your promises.
He frowned.
Dont dramatise, Kate. Every couple goes through this. Well get through it.
I shook my head. My chest felt hollow and cold, yet for the first time in months it was clear.
Youll never change. Its not a problem for you; its normal. Wife at home, lover on the side. Convenient.
Youre talking nonsense.
Im telling the truth. I stood. Three years ago I thought I was special, that youd be different. I was just taking Marys place.
That evening I walked over to Annes flat.
Divorce took three months. By November Daniel had officially moved in with Oliviainformation I learned from mutual acquaintances. They posted happy pictures on Instagram, hashtags about love and destiny, planning a wedding.
Anne showed me one of his posts: Shes the only one who ever made me feel truly special.
I set my phone down.
I dont want to see it.
Are you angry?
No. It was the truth. I felt sorry for her. In a couple of years shed be sitting with a friend, crying just as I had.
Anne held me.
Do you feel better?
I thought about it. Betterno. But something inside finally let go of the illusion Id built around him.
The stupid thing is, I said with a weak smile, I knew from the start he was like that. I was his other woman, heard his lies, saw his stories. Yet I convinced myself it would be different with me.
I fell in love.
I was foolish and blind. Those are not the same.
Anne was quiet.
So what now?
I stared out the window.
Now Ill look for someone who doesnt need to be remade. A man whos honest from the beginning. Do they even exist?
Rain began to patter against the glass, each drop tracing a path down the pane. For the first time in months I didnt think of Daniel, his wedding, their broken plans.
I have no idea what the future holds, but I can see a new chapter formingone where I wont be chasing shadows. Perhaps, someday, Ill be married to someone who truly loves me, and well have children, a home that grows stronger with each year. And maybe, just maybe, Ill finally understand what real love feels like.
