Transcription
Mark smiled as he walked across the parking lot toward me. I kicked off my shoes and reached for my heels. He opened the door. I placed my shoes on the asphalt, turned around, and put my feet in my high heels. "Here's an award for playing a gentleman. I'll watch you do it. There's something sexy about a lady in a tight skirt getting out of a car." He extended his hand to me and helped me up.
"You find something sexy in everything a woman does."
"Not every woman. Only you."
He hugged me tightly and kissed my neck. "Hm, you smell amazing. Did you have any problems? I know you said Harry works from home."
"Yes, it's not easy. He didn't want me to leave. He thinks I'm in London and is worried that I might catch Co. He is so cute." Harry never liked it when I traveled, but he knew how things worked in the publishing business. Lately, his protests have become more forceful. "I think all this Corona virus hype has gotten to him. This time, he almost begged me to stay home."
"I'll try to make amends when I get home." Mark pulled my suitcase out of the trunk. As we walked towards the hotel entrance, he put his arm around my shoulders. "So, old Harry looks after the kids while I have fun with his wife."
I slapped him on the chest. "Don't say that. It sounds like we're using him."
"Well, it's not really a use. I mean, Harry wants you to be happy, right? And I make you happy, don't I?"
"Of course, you know."
"Well, that's it. We'll just make sure Harry gets what he wants."
Yes, it was a joke, but it made me think. Harry is a great guy and he always tries to make me happy. When I first started my own business, he was stuck in a teaching job that he hated, working as an editor in what little free time he had. Now that he's full-time editing, he's also caring for Emma and Andrew, allowing me to focus on building my business. He is a good husband, kind, caring, and a great father, always there when they need him. He attends all school events so I can meet my Publishers and authors. The only thing missing is the excitement. The excitement I feel when I sneak out to Mark's. But even that has begun to fade.
I met Mark at the London book fair. I was there supporting one of my authors who was giving his first ever workshop when this handsome man walked up and said, "I know you. You are Isabelle Roberts. Read this and we'll talk about it over dinner." He placed a large stack of paper on the table next to me. I couldn't believe how strong he was. My first reaction was to tell him to go to hell, but when I looked into those piercing blue eyes, my resistance collapsed. "Stay at Corinthia. Pick me up at 7, and I'll let you know if anything works out."
Of course, at dinner, we talked about everything except his book. We both drank more than we should have, and Mark spent the night with me. Looking back, I can't imagine what came over me. It was like escaping my life as a wife and mother and going back to the days when I was young, free, and single. I did things with Mark that Harry and I had never done. I can't explain it, but acting like a [ __ ] seemed out of keeping with my role in the family. When I returned home, I felt ashamed, but no one noticed the difference. After a few days, I was able to push it to the back of my mind and pretend nothing happened.
A week passed before Mark called me and asked what I thought of his manuscript, a manuscript that I had not yet read. When I started to prevaricate, he said that he understood everything and suggested that we meet again to discuss it. I knew I shouldn't do this. The first time I met him, I simply behaved incorrectly, but this time I knew exactly what would happen, and it happened. It seems strange, but the more often you get away with something, the less wrong it seems. Soon, we regularly found time for each other. The more often we met, the more normal it became. We went from having sex all the time to spending time together like a real couple. We went to art galleries and museums, which Mark said was vital exploration.
I found this hotel when Harry and I first got married. It was built on the banks of the canal as a barge pub at a time when canals were the main mode of transport for goods. It has since developed into a very pleasant country hotel. Before we had kids, we came here to escape the world. We walked hand-in-hand along the canal to a delightful pub and restaurant and walked back after dinner. I haven't experienced such romantic moments in 10 years. Now I was experiencing them again, but this time with Mark. The topic of his book came up less and less. We both knew the true reason for our meeting.
More out of guilt than anything else, I spent the weekend reading it and regretted it. The plot was full of holes, and the writing was boring. He seemed to have difficulty concentrating on the main story line. No publisher will thank me for offering them such a terrible book. This left me with a problem. After such a delay, I couldn't just return it with a list of needed fixes. Mark thought I would pitch it to Publishers. I did the only thing I could. I handed it over to Harry and asked him to do everything possible so that it could be sold. This meant I could tell Mark that it had been passed on to an editor who would hone it, making his good book better.
"You don't think Harry suspects something, do you?"
"No. Why on earth? He gets what he wants in the bedroom. We probably do this more than most couples who have been together as long as we have. We don't have many arguments."
"Honestly, I can't argue with him. I just agree and then do what I want."
"What about you? Does Porsche suspect anything?"
"No. This is just another important research trip for my next book."
Hand-in-hand, we headed to our room. Once inside, Mark pulled me towards him and kissed me with the passion that I only received from him. Within minutes, we were both naked. His kisses slid down my neck. My head fell back, and I let out an ecstatic sigh. Mark picked me up and lowered me onto the bed. He lay down next to me and continued to kiss me.
I wouldn't say Mark was better than Harry, but he was definitely different. Where Harry always tried to please me, Mark took what he wanted, and that turned me on. It was this excitement that kept me coming back again and again. The fact that it was forbidden fruit made the excitement even stronger. Without kids around, I was loud, which always intensified the experience. By 5:00, we were both satisfied and ready to eat. We showered, got dressed, then took a leisurely stroll down the path to the pub for dinner. The pub served good quality food sourced from local farms. Harry and I always loved him. Mark wasn't that keen, but I knew he wasn't there for the food. I drank too much wine and found myself giggling at almost everything Mark said.
When we returned to the hotel, the administrator called us. "Mr. Macau, can I have a few words with you?" As we approached the reception desk, Mark had a concerned look on his face. Karen, the receptionist, didn't look too happy either. "I'm very sorry, sir, but we cannot fully fulfill your order. I'm sure you are aware of the situation with COVID-19."
"Well, in today's news, the Prime Minister announced a complete lockdown. All hotels, pubs, and restaurants must close from midnight tomorrow. I'm afraid we'll have to ask you to leave tomorrow."
"No, you can't do that! I booked a room for 2 days, and you accepted it!"
"I'm afraid we can, sir. In fact, it would be illegal if we did not." Mark was furious. He tried to argue with the poor girl, but it didn't work out. She finally told him to take it up with the Prime Minister and left. He was angry when we entered our room. He pulled me into the room, holding my hand so tightly that it hurt. I stumbled into the room and grabbed a chair to keep from falling. As soon as I did this, Mark pushed me down and lifted my dress. He pulled my arms back and held them behind my back so I couldn't get up.
"Stop it, Mark! You're hurting me!"
"It's not so funny now, is it? I saw you laughing at me when that [ __ ] downstairs told us to leave. You stand there grinning like a Cheshire cat."
"I wasn't laughing at you, but at the situation."
"Ah, it hurts me as part of love-making." It could have been a pleasant experience, but there was no love in what Mark did to me. He let go of my wrists and fell on top of me. I slipped out from under him and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I sat on the toilet and cried. This was a side of Mark that I had never seen before. I saw the door handle twitch. The door shook, but did not open. After a short pause, he began knocking on the door.
"Isabelle, let me in. We need to talk."
"I have nothing to tell you." I looked at the red marks left by his fingers when he grabbed my hand. "And I will have bruises."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to be angry. If that [ __ ] downstairs had been intelligent, this would never have happened."
"She did her job. It was you who behaved unreasonably."
"Sorry, you're right. We just had so little chance of being together that I was angry when it all ended. You know how much I love you. This will never happen again. Please, let's talk without this damn door."
I knew that sooner or later I would have to let him in, but at that moment I needed time to pull myself together. "I need to clean myself up first. But if you hurt me again, I'll call the police."
"Yes, of course, but don't worry, it won't happen again. If I hadn't drunk too much, I would have left it there, but now I needed somewhere to sleep off. I had to calm him down and make the most of his guilt." I washed my face and fixed my makeup in the mirror. I saw that my eyes were red from crying, but it was something I couldn't fix. I opened the door and saw him sitting on the bed. He stood up and approached me. I instinctively backed away.
"Oh God, you're afraid of me. Please don't. I'll keep my distance if that's what you want." He backed away and sat down in a chair by the door.
"Right now, this is exactly what I want," I said, rubbing my arm where he grabbed me. I sat down on the bed and leaned against the headboard.
"Then come on, explain yourself." He sat in a chair, looking at the floor and wringing his hands. "Look, I'm really sorry, but I don't know what came over me. It must be the drinking. This girl seemed so damn pleased that our little getaway was ruined that I was just lost. And I thought it was funny that we both tried so hard to hide it from our spouses, but in the end, the government stopped us."
I rubbed my bruised hand. "I'm very sorry, but what can I do to make up for my guilt?"
"Well, first, you could find that poor girl and apologize for your behavior." If necessary, he said, getting up from his chair and opening the door. "I'll go and find her now. You're right, it's not her fault, and I was being unreasonable."
As soon as he closed the door, I went to my bag and pulled out my emergency big panties and a long nightgown. When Mark returned, I was already lying in bed, watching the evening news.
"That's all settled. Okay, now take a shower and go to bed."
"Perhaps I'd better go to bed first and then take a shower," he said with a smile.
"Do not even think about it. I'm too tired for all this, and we both need to get some sleep if we're going home tomorrow." The smile disappeared from his face, and he went to the bathroom. I turned off the TV and curled up on the bed. When Mark went to bed, he tried to snuggle up to me. I cried out in pain as he placed his hand on my shoulder, and he soon backed away. I tried to sleep, but I couldn't get the events of the evening out of my head. For most of the night, I found myself making excuses for him, but every time Harry's voice sounded in my head, telling it like it was. There was one of Harry's sayings that kept coming back: "Alcohol only removes inhibitions. This reveals the true character of a person." For the first time, I understood what he meant.
I thought about Harry being at home looking after the kids and realized I had forgotten to call him. I turned off my phone before dinner and forgot to turn it on again. What will he think of me? I almost laughed at the irony. I had deliberately left him alone so I could spend time with my lover, but now he was all I could think about. Mark slept as if he didn't care, while I tossed and turned from side to side. He lay and snored. I must have fallen asleep at some point because I woke up to the feeling of Mark pressing against me from behind. I rolled over onto my back and pushed his hand away.
"You can forget about it. I'm sick. Sick after yesterday." I saw the marks he left on my hand. Overnight, they went from red marks to blue bruises that were painful to touch. I carefully ran my hand over them. How do I explain this to Harry? It's so obvious that these are fingerprints. I will wear long-sleeved tops for at least a week.
Mark stroked my arm and kissed the bruises. "I'm sorry. I had no idea I was holding you so tightly."
"What's done is done, and nothing can be done. We just have to accept it and move on." He lay with his head down next to my hand and looked at me with sad eyes.
"Does this mean you forgive me?"
"It depends on whether it happens again."
"It won't. Never. I don't know what came over me." I ran my hand over my bruised arm. "Come on, we need to get up, otherwise we won't have time to blink an eye." I half expected him to follow me into the shower, but luckily he stayed in bed. I stood in the shower for a long time, trying to wash away the events of last night. I found more bruises from the rough way he treated me. They were in places that would be difficult for me to explain.
When I came out of the bathroom, Mark was lying on the bed, watching the morning news. "What will we do if all the pubs and hotels are closed?"
"Didn't you say you have a cottage somewhere?" I sat down in front of the mirror and reached for my makeup. "Yes, this is a fairly large house, five bedrooms, three bathrooms, with magnificent sea views. It belongs to Harry's parents, but they can no longer manage the stairs. We use it on holidays and weekends. Can't we take advantage of this?"
"Don't you understand anything? We must stay at home and only go out to work or buy groceries. What will I tell Harry?"
"I'm just going to go shopping, honey. I'll be back in a couple of days."
"Last night, they said they were looking at a month. We'll just have to wait it out."
"I'm not sure I can wait a whole month to take another look at this magnificent body."
"Well, you'll have to do it. We all have to make sacrifices, you know. Now go and take a shower so we can go down to breakfast."
While Mark shaved and showered, I put on my makeup and dressed in the conservative attire that Harry expected me to wear to business meetings. I went out into the hallway and tried to call, but after a few rings, it went to voicemail. I left a message apologizing for not calling last night and telling him the good news that I would be home early. Mark got dressed, and we went downstairs to breakfast, where everyone was talking about the lockdown and how they were going to cope. I told Mark that I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.
"How about we finish packing and check out of here and then leave our luggage in the cars and go to the village for lunch and then take a walk around the village and watch the artisans work?"
"If you want. This is true. I'm in no hurry to return to my boring life. Let's put this off for a few more hours."
Here's what we did: By 11:00, we checked out and loaded our luggage into our cars. Mark took my hand, and we headed towards the towpath. As soon as we reached the canal, I let go of his hand and hugged his waist. I pulled him towards me and looked up at him. He looked down at me and stopped. He turned around, hugged me, and kissed me. I joined in as his tongue entered between my lips, and I raised my hands to his chest.
"Wow," said, releasing me. "It looks like you really forgave me."
"No way in the world," I said, pushing him away with all my might. His eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open as he stumbled back. He stepped back, trying not to fall, but under his foot was only the edge of the canal bank. The edge broke off, and he began to fall. It was like slow motion as he fell backwards, flailing his arms and trying to regain his balance. His body hit the murky water, sending waves onto the canal bank. I watched him go under the water, and it seemed like an eternity before he surfaced again. I looked at him floundering in the water.
"Do you seriously think that I will ever be able to forgive what you did? Think again. I never want to see or hear from you again. Is that clear?"
"I cannot swim." I stepped back and removed the life belt from the stand on the other side of the towpath. I turned around, found, and looked at him. I asked, "Okay?"
"Yes, yes, I understand now. Throw me this [ __ ] belt." I threw the belt, and he grabbed it. "A rope was tied to the belt, which will help when you have to climb a steep bank. By the way, the best thing you can do with your book is burn it. A little warmth is the most you can get from it." As I left, I heard him screaming, "Come back here, [ __ ]! Help me get out of here!"
I returned to my car and made an anonymous 911 call before getting in the car and driving away. I had been driving for half an hour when it dawned on me. The events of the previous night were never far from my mind, and every time I found myself saying, "Harry wouldn't do that." Harry, my Harry. What am I doing with him? I gave all my strength to Mark, even when I claimed I didn't have time to see my family. I made time for him. We shared our favorite things. I took him to my favorite places, places that have always been special to me. These were our special places for Harry and me. I betrayed him, and not just sexually. I let Mark take a part of me that should have belonged to Harry and him alone. Tears flowed freely. Every time I managed to stop crying and put myself in order, the tears started again.
It was 3:00 in the afternoon when I arrived at the house. Harry's Volvo was nowhere to be seen. For a moment, I panicked, but then I realized that school was over for the day and Harry had left to pick up the kids. I entered and immediately went up to the bedroom. I threw my bag on the bed and went to the bathroom to wash myself. I wanted to look my best when he got home. Returning to the bedroom, I sat down at the dressing table and put on my makeup. I spent a lot of time getting my lips in order. Without hearing a sound from below, I unpacked my bag. I went downstairs with an armful of laundry to put in the car. Harry and the children were still not home, and I began to worry.
Coming out of the utility room, I saw a stack of papers on the dining table. The paper turned out to be the manuscript of Mark's novel, but there was an envelope on top. I stood and looked at it for several minutes, afraid to read it. I knew I had to open it, but it took all my willpower to force myself to do it. When I read the first few sentences, relief washed over me. "Hi, Harry. Emma's best friend from school tested positive for Corona, so we will have to isolate for 10 days. I thought Selce would be a better place for isolation than here. Mom would make sure there was plenty of food, so we all went to Selce for 10 days. At least they have sea and wildlife there to explore. They can use my computer and laptop for online learning." The knot in my stomach eased, and my whole body relaxed. Then I started reading further.
"I looked at your boyfriend's manuscript, and oh yeah, I know all about your dirty little business. You shouldn't have said you were going to meet the people I work for. When Larry called, I asked how he had lunch with you. He said he hadn't seen you in months. I found out over the phone that you were at our hotel. How could you do this? Take him to our special places? They belong to us, damn it, not to a place where you share yourself with everyone and everything. Sorry, I got off topic. I was talking about a lover's manuscript. It doesn't matter how many editors you put on it, there is no way to make this garbage sell. I'll ask the kids to call you. I'll bring them home in 10 days, which will give you time to arrange child care. Bye. Harry."
"No, Harry, don't do this!" I screamed, trying to find my phone. "He doesn't mean anything to me." I found a phone and called him. I heard a dial tone but received no answer. After some time, a voice message arrived: "Hello, you've reached Harry Roberts. I'm busy right now, but if you leave your name and phone number, I'll call you back. Harry, I'm home. I read the note. Please call me by landline or mobile. I'll be waiting. I love you."
I walked back and forth in the kitchen and dining room, wringing my hands and talking to myself. How long has he known? Was that why he didn't want me to leave? What did he mean when he said it was time to take care of the children? Oh God, he won't come back. "I will bring the children in 10 days," the note said. Of course, if he was going to stay, he would have said that. "We'll be home in 10 days." I called him again and again, and it went to voicemail. "Please, Harry, don't do this. Talk to me. I know I messed it up, but we can fix it. Don't do this to us. You're much better. Please call me. Please, Harry. I love you so much. I don't want to lose you." I turned off the ringer and stood there, looking at the phone, willing it to ring, but of course, it didn't. As I waited, my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten since breakfast. I made myself a sandwich, and while I was eating, the phone rang. I ran across the room and found Harry calling me. I wiped my eyes with a napkin and brushed my hair back before answering.
When I did this, two faces were looking at me from the phone. "Mommy!" they shouted. I thought I had no more tears, but as soon as I saw them, I started crying again. Andrew was the first to notice. "Are you crying, Mom? What's happened?" I dabbed my eyes again with the napkin. "It's okay. I'm just so glad to see you both."
"Is Dad there?"
"Yes, he is preparing dinner. He said we should call you before we eat." They told me how they played in the garden and watched different seabirds on the beach. I saw a cormorant sitting on the edge of the groin. Emma told me, "What is groin?" "Deer," Dad said, "that is the name of the large wooden fences that go down into the sea." Andrew called them breakwaters, but Dad said they were called groins. "If Dad said so, then I'm sure he's right."
"You are doing homework?"
"Yes, I use my Dad's laptop, and Andrew uses a big computer."
"What about you, Andrew? Do you like studying online?"
"Everything is fine, but I can only see the teacher. It would be better if I could see my friends too." I heard Harry's voice calling them to dinner, and they began to say goodbye.
"Honey, before you finish, could you please pass the phone to Dad?" I saw the background move as Andrew carried his phone. The screen turned some kind of blurry pink, and I heard Andrew. "Mom wants to talk to you," he said. I heard his footsteps on the wooden floor, and then the door slamming before the picture came back, and I saw Harry's face. There was something about him that I had seen before but did not notice. His eyes looked tired. I had seen this before and thought it was a lack of sleep. Now I looked at him and saw that he was not only tired; the sparkle in his eyes had disappeared. He looked sad.
"Hello, Isabelle. How can I help you?"
"How are you, Harry?"
"In my opinion, the phrase 'as expected.' What is there to talk about? Wasn't my note clear?"
"No, most likely not. I wasn't thinking very well at the time. Having your wife go away for a couple of days to see her lover did that to me. I almost begged you not to go, but you went anyway. The one who is better wins. What can I say? If you had called me last night, I would have told you that we were not at home. You could come here and screw yourself stupidly."
"Stop it, stop it immediately! He's not the best person. He's not half the person you are, and I couldn't bring him home because the last time I saw him, he was up to his neck in a canal, clinging to a life belt. Everything is over."
"I know this wasn't supposed to start. I feel so stupid, but last night I came to my senses."
"I see, and that makes everything all right. The fact that you came to your senses?"
"No, of course not. We can't do this over the phone, Harry. I need to be with you so you can see how sorry I am. I'll get in the car now and come."
"No, you can't do that. We are in isolation so as not to spread the disease. We can all get infected. I'm probably already infected. We isolate ourselves so we don't pass it on to anyone else. As I said in the note, I will bring the children in 10 days, 14 at the most."
"Does this mean that you will return home?"
"Mom says I can stay here. This is a good place to work. I thought we could look after the children together. One of us may be with them during the week, and the other on the weekend. Think about it and let me know what you want to do."
"If I have them for a week, they will have to change schools." I couldn't believe he could be so calm and matter-of-fact. As I wiped away my tears, the entire time he spoke, he looked so calm. It took me a while to realize that he was calm because he had given up.
"Please, don't do this, Harry. Don't leave us."
For the first time, I saw a flash of anger. "We are not here. You left us months ago. Have you listened to yourself lately? When was the last time we planned what we were going to do instead of what you were going to do? You left the team, not me. I did everything I could to get you back. I've tried flowers, special foods, dates. You turned your back on even tried to show you that you're putting us all in danger because of this damn virus. Ha, look at the irony in that. You walk around with your lover, and I stay at home, away from everyone, and it is I who most likely become infected."
While he was talking, I remembered everything he did. All this, and I chalked it up to Harry being Harry, trying to get me to go away for the weekend when I insisted I had to work. It was true, I fell behind on work, but only because I spent time with Mark. I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost missed his words.
"I have to go. I don't want the children to see how upset I am. I'll make sure they call you every evening. Good night."
"Don't go, Harry! I love you! I need you! Please come home!"
"I'm late." The screen froze, then went dark, and I realized that he had hung up. I tried my best not to cry again. Some darkness fell over me. Life around me went on as usual, but for me, everything stood still. I didn't pay attention to the street traffic. I didn't notice how the sun was setting. I sat on the edge of the sofa, rocking back and forth, shutting it all out.
"Isabelle? Isabelle? What happened?" I heard these words and felt someone shaking my shoulder. "What are you doing here, sitting in the dark?" I turned in the direction of the voice, and as my eyes began to focus, I saw my mother's face looking at me.
"Mom, what are you doing here?"
"Harry called it. He said you needed me, so I came as soon as I could. What is this? What's happened?"
"He left me, Mom. I was such a fool, and now he's gone."
"Nonsense. He told me everything. They just isolate themselves there. They will return in 10 days."
"No, you don't understand. He said he'd bring the kids home, but he didn't say he'd come back. And it's all my fault. I thought I was being very smart, but he knew. He knew all this time, and now I've lost him."
"I don't believe that for a minute. Harry's not like that. He loves you to death. There's nothing you can do to drive him away."
"I did it. I broke the heart of the sweetest and kindest man in the world, and now he hates me for it." Mom sat down next to me and hugged me, and the floodgates opened again, and I cried like I had never cried. Mom just held me, rubbing my shoulders while I cried. When I managed to pull myself together, I pulled away and looked into her eyes. "Oh, Mom, what should I do? I can't live without him."
"Enough chatting. I'm already here, so the question is, what are we going to do? First, we'll turn on the lights, and then I'll make us a nice cup of tea. After we've had tea, I'll call Harry and share my thoughts with him."
"No, Mom, don't do this. You don't know the whole story yet. You'll only make it worse."
"In that case, we'll have some tea, and you'll tell me everything." Mom believes that there is no situation that could not be improved with a cup of tea. Harry and I often laughed about this. "Oh God," she said, "did you cut off your leg?"
"It's okay. I'll make you a cup of tea." We could have laughed about it, but sitting at the table and drinking tea with my mother really made me feel better. I started from the beginning and told her the whole story. When I told her about that first night, she looked at me darkly. "I thought we raised you better," she said.
"Mom, I said if I'm going to finish this, you have to withhold judgment."
"Okay, continue." I told her everything, even though I had never refused Harry when he was excited, thinking that it would keep him from getting suspicious. When I got to my last night with Mark, she brought her hand to her mouth.
"Did he rape you?"
"No, Mom. I went there myself to have sex with him."
"Just not like that. You asked him to stop, but he just continued. This is rape. We need to talk to the police."
"I can't, Mom. No jury will convict him. I'm a married woman, and he was my longtime lover. That's all they'll see."
"So he can get away with it?"
"Not really. I pushed him into the canal."
"Okay. I hope he drowned."
"No, I threw him a life belt."
"Life belt? I'd throw him an anvil or something heavy to pull the bastard down. Does Harry know about this?"
"No, and you can't tell him. He'll try to kill Mark, and it might end up worse."
"Well, I can tell you one thing: Harry still loves you."
"Oh, I'm not too sure about that. I caused him great pain."
"He called me, didn't he? He knew you were in this condition, so he called me to help you. It means he cares about you. Don't give up on him."
"I won't, Mom. But I think he abandoned me. He cut me out of his life."
"Then prove him wrong. Let him cool down a bit, and then show him how much you love him. And keep in mind that if you ever do something like that again, Harry won't be the only one leaving you."
Harry was true to his word. Every day, we communicated with the children. Every time I asked to talk to Dad, but he was always busy cooking or working. On the fourth day, I heard someone coughing. I asked Andrew who it was. "Oh, this is Dad. He says he has a cold."
"Please give him the phone. I don't care what he does. I need to talk to him." The background flashed as Andrew carried the phone into the kitchen where Harry was cooking.
"How can I help you?"
"Andrew said you have a cough."
"It's just a cold. No big deal."
"Something doesn't look like it."
"No, no, I just have a little pressure in my chest. Nothing to worry about. I can't help it. I want you to promise that you will take care of yourself."
"Yes, yes, I promise. Now I have to cook dinner, so excuse me." He hung up again before I could tell him I loved him. In the days that followed, his cough seemed to get better, and I thought I was worrying for nothing. Then the call came. On the morning of the day they were supposed to return, Andrew called, and he was very upset.
"Hello, dear. Are you ready to go home today?"
"Oh yes, but could you come get us?"
"Of course, I can, but why can't Dad bring you home?"
"He is unable to drive, so he asked me to call you."
"What's wrong with him, Andrew? Can you describe?"
"I don't know, Mom. He just sits in bed and breathes strangely. It was like he was running. I think he might have COVID, and I don't know what to do." Andrew began to sob, and I tried my best to calm him down.
"Okay, honey, you did great. Now I need you to do something else. I'll get in the car as soon as I hang up. When I do this, I want you to dial 911 and ask for an ambulance. Tell them what you just told me about Dad's breathing and tell them you think he has Co. I'll be there in 2 hours, maybe less. If anything else comes up, call immediately."
I threw a few things into my bag and ran to the car. It's amazing how quickly you can get there when there is no traffic. The lockdown meant people weren't supposed to travel, but of course, some did. However, fewer cars on the road meant that normally crowded spaces were free. 90 minutes after Andrew called, I pulled up to the house in Selce. There was an ambulance in the driveway, the side door open. I grabbed my bag and ran to the house. Walking past the ambulance, I noticed that someone was moving inside. I turned to look inside and saw a paramedic in full uniform tending to someone on a gurney. I had already placed one foot on the step when the paramedic appeared in front of me.
"You can't enter. This is now a contaminated area." I barely recognized Harry lying on the gurney. The oxygen mask covered most of his face, and his eyes appeared dead. I could hear his chest wheezing as he breathed.
"How is he?" I asked the paramedic.
"Not very good, but there have been worse cases. He'll feel better once we get him to the hospital."
"Where are you taking him?"
"St. Richard's in Chichester. But no one is allowed there. Hold on, Harry. We will be waiting for you to return home. We love you, Harry."
I turned towards the house, and as soon as I opened the door, I was hugged by two crying children. Behind them stood a female paramedic who Harry would describe as a beautiful large girl. "My name is Maggie. I understand you are their mother?"
"Yes, I just came from Red Hill to pick them up. They were isolated here."
"I know. Andrew has already explained. You have great kids. They helped me a lot. Now that you're here, we can hit the road."
"Don't leave yet. He needs a phone and a charger. We may not be allowed to visit him, but at least we can support him over the phone." I knelt down in front of the children. "Now, I want you to think. Do any of you know where Dad's phone is?"
"I know," Emma said. "He's in the kitchen charging."
"I can bring it."
"No, I'll bring it. Just show me where it is," said Maggie. The two of them went to the kitchen and soon returned with Harry's phone and charger.
"Do I need to disinfect anything?"
"Lock his room and don't go there for 3 days. Otherwise, just keep washing your hands, and you'll be fine." Maggie walked away, and we all had tears in our eyes as the ambulance pulled out of the driveway. The children were full of questions about the practical side of life. How will we be able to visit Harry if we are in Red Hill, and if not, how will they go to school? They were very disappointed to learn that we could not visit the hospital. However, they seemed relieved to hear that all the schools were locked, and we would remain in Selce to await Harry's return.
We went for a walk on the beach, which seemed to make everyone feel better. Emma seemed quiet all day, and it wasn't until bedtime that I found out why. I was putting her to bed when she asked a question that had been bothering her all day. "Mom, honey, Daddy got sick because of this nasty virus, but Kylie got infected, and we sat together at school. Maybe I took it from her and gave it to Dad?"
"Were you sick?"
"No."
"Well, then you couldn't catch it from Kylie, and if you didn't catch it, you couldn't give it to Dad." I hated lying to her, but no child should go through life thinking they infected their father.
By the time I made my bed in the empty bedroom, I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. I lay on the bed and looked at the ceiling. I'm not a religious person, but I started talking as if someone was listening. "Why are you doing this? What did he even do? It was I who did wrong. Wrong. I deserve to be punished. All Harry did was be a good husband and father. What did my children do? Why did they deserve to suffer?" Needless to say, I received no response.
When I called the next day, I took the phone to the garage so I could be alone, and I was glad I did. I barely recognized him. He was so pale. The oxygen mask was replaced with tubes in his nose. He told me that the doctor was unhappy with his progress and they might need to put him on a more active oxygen system. "We... we talked about why we are in Selce. You can't visit me, so you might as well go back to Red Hill."
"We're staying here. We may not be able to visit you, but we feel closer. Emma is already worried because she thinks you're sick because of her. I think there will be a riot if I take them away. It's also the best place to be isolated. We can all go to the beach for our daily exercise. The kids love it, and we have a good internet connection for their schoolwork."
"It doesn't change anything, Isabelle. I can't live with you anymore. We'll take care of it when you get better. Right now, you need me, and I need to be here. When you get out of there and are able to take care of yourself, I'll go back to Red Hill if that's what you want. I'll hang up now, and then I'll talk to the doctor and find out what's really going on. I'll call you tomorrow. You can call me anytime you want. And one more thing: I love you. I know you don't believe me, but it's the truth, and I will continue to love you no matter what you do."
I managed to contact a doctor who agreed to talk to me if I promised not to call again. He told me that Harry was in really bad shape and that he was being transferred to intensive care. When I told the kids about my conversation with Harry, we decided to make a video for him. I used my phone to record them doing their schoolwork. We made some cakes, and I recorded them stirring the mixture and eating the cakes. I emailed the videos to Harry, and before I put the kids to bed, I received an email from him thanking me and saying how much he enjoyed them. I showed the children the letter, and we agreed to do the same the next day.
When I called again, Harry was wearing a clear plastic mask, which made conversation difficult. He started sending me pictures with text messages, which I responded to with emails with videos attached. I noticed a change when we switched to email. The tone of his messages became more negative. My attempts to show him how children deal with life seemed to be unsuccessful. At the end of his fourth day in the hospital, I received a letter that gave me chills.
"Hey, Isabelle. Looks like you'll get your freedom sooner than I thought. Tomorrow, I will be put on artificial ventilation. This means that I will be heavily sedated, so this will be my last letter. Only half of the people who go on a ventilator survive, so this is probably the last message you'll hear from me. You'll need to dig out my insurance policies in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet in my office in Red Hill. I have a spreadsheet in my work folder on my desktop called 'Editing Projects.' Could you please tell clients that I cannot finish the job? Tell Mark that I will come back and haunt him if he treats you badly. Harry."
I hoped it wouldn't come to that, but I saw signs in previous letters that he was giving up. The day after he went into hospital, I left the children to record their own message for Harry. It didn't go as well, and I realized that my conversation with Emma wasn't as successful as I thought it would be. I couldn't look at her message without crying. She cried, apologizing for his illness and begging him to get well soon. Andrew was much more stoic. He detailed his shortcomings in mathematics and asked him to get better so that he could help with his schoolwork. I hid these messages from Harry because it seemed too negative, but now it's time for the big guns. I jotted down a response that was intended to make him angry.
"How dare you give up? Okay, you abandon me, I understand. I deserve it, but what about Andrew and Emma? You have two wonderful children who need a Dad. Emma blames herself for you getting sick. Can you imagine how it would affect her if you just gave in? Stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself and deal with it. You owe it to yourself, but most of all, you owe it to them. I have attached messages from the children. I suggest you watch them before you write yourself off. I have attached video messages from the children."
I expected an angry answer, but none came. By the time I went to bed, I was desperate. Once again, I found myself calling out to the one who controls our destiny. "It's not fair! Why are you doing this to him? He is a good man. Why does he suffer while I walk around alive and well?" I lay on the bed and sobbed until I was disturbed by two quiet voices.
"What happened, Mom? Are you feeling unwell?" I gasped when I realized what they
Were thinking, "Oh no. Darlings, Mom is is fine. I'm just upset because Dad is so sick. He will die." Andrew asked. Emma started to cry. I pulled her onto the bed and hugged her. "I don't think so, my dear, but he is very ill and I am sad to see him so ill."
"I don't want Daddy to die," Emma said.
"I know, honey, and I'm sure he'll be fine. Dad wouldn't want us to be upset, so we all have to be very brave and not show him that we're worried." I took them both into my bed and held them close to me, embracing each other. The three of us dozed off.
There was no news from the hospital in the morning, so I called them. The nurse told me that Harry had improved a little overnight and no longer needed a ventilator. I tried to call him, but the call went to voicemail.
When the lockdown ended, we could go out for an hour a day. We were walking along the beach when my phone beeped, letting me know I had received an email. I looked at the screen. "What gives you the right to try to pin the blame on me?" I answered, trying to justify my position, but he didn't call me for another 2 days.
I came from the garden, seeing children with a phone. I didn't know who they were talking to until Andrew said, "Mom's here now. Do you want to talk to her?" "Oh, okay. Bye, Dad." Andrew looked at me confused. Dad said that he was too tired and should sleep. He said he felt better. Perhaps he will return home soon.
I took the phone and went up to the bedroom without much hope. I called Harry. To my surprise, he actually answered. He didn't look well, but the plastic mask was gone and the nasal oxygen tubes were back. "Oh, it's you," was all he said, without the slightest hint that he was glad to see me.
"And I'm glad to see you too. I can't say you look good, but you're still much better."
"No thanks to you. I'm starting to feel a little better. Do you have any idea what this letter did to me?"
"I hope it made you angry, but more than that, I hope it made you realize how devastated we would all be without you. Sorry to upset you, but I was starting to think you were giving up. You were so sick that I could understand if you wanted to die, to end it. I wasn't really trying to make you feel guilty, I just wanted you to see how much we all need you."
"Andrew says you cry every night and talk to yourself. He's very worried about you. I understand that you probably miss Mark, but you need to pull yourself together. They need someone strong to rely on while I'm here. That someone has to be you."
"Oh, Harry, I don't miss him one bit. It only comes to my mind when I think about what I did to you."
"Yes, be that as it may, but it doesn't change the fact that you have to be strong for the sake of the children. That's what I do. Now that I see that you are on the mend, it will be much easier for me."
"Then it's okay. Now I feel tired. I think I need to take a nap. Goodbye."
I went downstairs and took the children by the hands. "Dad is getting better, isn't that great?" I squeezed them tightly, and tears filled my eyes, but this time they were tears of joy. Emma asked why I was crying and seemed puzzled by the answer. "Because I'm so happy, darling." We had a celebratory dinner of fish and chips from a local diner and made plans for Harry's return.
Another week passed before Harry returned home. I wanted to kiss him, but I saw that he was not ready for this. I limited myself to hugs. The children joined him, and even Harry had tears in his eyes. Returning home did not mean that he was completely healthy. He was short of breath and couldn't climb the stairs without help, but he still looked more like the old Harry.
I spoke to his nurse at the hospital, and she made it clear that he would need support for a while. I waited until the children went to bed and sat down to talk to him. "I know you don't want me here. I understand that, but you need me here now, so I'll stay. I'm not going to share a bed or even a room with you. I'll move to the one down the hall. I'll stay here as long as you need me, but if you want me to go, just say so, and I'll take the children with me to Red Hill. As soon as you feel able, we will share child care with you."
"Why? Let's not talk about this now. Wait until you get stronger, and I will answer all your questions."
"No, I mean, why are you doing this? It will be better for you if I never get better. In a divorce, you will receive custody of the children. Of course, if I died, you would be even better off."
"Don't you dare say that! Have I ever done anything to make you think that? I don't want a divorce. If you do this, then I will cooperate as long as it is fair."
"Why am I staying here? To help you?"
"Because I'm your wife and the mother of our children, and that's what wives do."
"So you're just doing your duty?"
"No, damn it! You're making me say even if my words make you angry. All right, I will say it. I love you. So I want to help you get better. I love you. I know you don't believe me, but it's true. I'm so sorry for what I did. If there was a way to go back and fix everything, I would do it in a heartbeat, but there isn't, so I have to live with the consequences."
"The problem is that we all have to live with the consequences. It's a shame you didn't think about this before you started. Now I feel tired. If you don't care, I'll go to bed."
We both stood up and headed towards the main stairs. I helped him up the stairs. He had been running up just a few weeks ago. Harry continued to recover, and within 2 weeks, we were able to walk on the beach. During one of these walks, I started talking about returning to Red Hill.
"You don't need me here anymore, and I need to catch up. I can take the kids with me and bring them on weekends."
Harry was silent for a while. We climbed over one of the groins, and as we moved on, he took my hand. "You can work from here. There's enough space. You can turn one of the rooms on the top floor into an office if needed. There's even a private staircase so clients don't have to meet their family."
"I thought you wanted to get rid of me."
"I'm used to you and the children always being around. You said you'd stay until I sent you away."
"No, I said I'll stay as long as you need me, but look at yourself. You don't need me anymore."
"I remember it differently." We walked a little more, holding hands and side by side.
"Are you telling me to move here with you?"
He was silent for some time, and when he spoke, there was no answer. "You really threw it into the canal, didn't you? You know I already told you it's quite funny when you watch the video." He pulled out his phone and after a few taps of his finger, brought up a video showing Mark and I walking along the towpath.
"Where did you get this from? Have you been following me?"
"Not me, but his wife, Porsha, or rather her father. They were suspicious of all his research trips, but let's not talk about that. Just watch." He turned up the volume, and I heard a splash as Mark fell into the water. His voice was clearly audible as he shouted at me, and my response was also audible. Harry started it and cranked it again. "This is the most interesting thing. Watch how his head comes out of the water, just like from a cartoon." I watched, and when Mark surfaced, I noticed him release a stream of water from his mouth. It was like a scene from a farce.
"This made me smile until I realized that there must be more videos, much worse than the one I saw."
"You seem pretty angry. Do you want to tell me about it?"
"Not really. I saw him for who he really is. I saw myself for who I was, and I really don't like what I saw. He thought I should just accept it and move on. He doesn't take no for an answer. Well, guess what he does now?"
"Where did you get this video from?"
"Porsha is divorcing him. She sent me everything she had. I only looked at this."
"Don't look at the others, Harry. Don't torture yourself. You don't need them."
"I will not fight a divorce, no matter what the conditions are. I have already deleted them. I just thought you might like it."
"I would prefer not to see this. This is something I am deeply ashamed of. I understand why you find it funny, but I'd rather not watch it. I hope I never see him again."
"So why? Why do what you've been doing for so long?"
"I can't tell you because I don't know myself. For the first time, my ego was massaged by the desire of a very attractive young man. Add a little alcohol to the mix, and I might have been easy prey for him. It pains me to say this, but now I know that this is all he needed. After the first time, I was sure that I would never do this again, but he was very persistent. I gave in, and to be honest, I was interested in doing something that I shouldn't have done. That's probably why we went to where I was with you. There was always a chance that we would run into someone who recognized me. This increased the excitement. God, I sound like a selfish [ __ ]! That's probably true. I convinced myself that you have nothing to lose from this."
"Yes, I know it's a cliché, and I know it's not true. Sometimes it seemed to me that there were three people in our bed at night. Were there times when you made love to me while thinking about him?"
I looked at the rough sand under my feet and nodded. "I'm sorry, Harry, but yes. It was exciting. Again, he is not a better lover than you. Forbidden fruit, excitement aside, he was probably much worse. Very selfish."
"Did you ever think about me when you were in bed with him?"
"Only on the last evening. I finally saw him for who he is, and myself for who I am. That's when I wanted to be in your arms. Since then, I really wanted."
"Well, you've given me a lot to think about. Thank you for your frankness. I thought I knew what I would do. I was going to stay here and start the divorce proceedings. You make enough to pay off the mortgage on Red Hill, and I can rent Mom's beach house."
I gasped, and he looked down at me. It took all my willpower not to start begging him, but it had to be his decision. "That's exactly what I was going to do, but you made me change my mind. When I got sick, I thought you would take the children back to Red Hill, but you stayed. I thought you had given up, but just when I was about to give up, you gave me the kick in the ass I needed. You made me so angry that I wanted to come back and tell you everything I think about you."
"I don't know if that's the difference, but my nurse told me that I started to get better the night I received your message. Even when I was discharged, you could have returned home, but you stayed to help me. I don't know if it was love or guilt that made you stay." I tried to interrupt him, but he raised his hand to stop me. "Now I don't need you anymore, so why are you still here? Why are you waiting for me to send you away?"
"Because I love you."
"I know what you're thinking. How could she love me and hurt me so much?"
"I never meant to hurt you. I never thought you'd find out. I know that it doesn't change things, and if I could fix everything, I would do it without the slightest hesitation. Harry, please believe me, I never stopped loving you."
"Ah, that's the problem. Will I ever be able to trust you again?" I've replayed this conversation hundreds of times in my head, and this question has always been a stumbling block. I knew that I would not find any arguments to convince him.
"That's the rub, isn't it? I can promise to never lie to you again, but how do you know whether to believe me or not? I can only ask you. I will do everything in my power to gain your trust, but I cannot force you to trust me."
We walked close to the water, and as we approached another groin, a large wave crashed onto the sand. Water rushed onto the shore, and I stumbled, trying not to get my feet wet. I started to fall, and found myself being held in their arms. Harry caught me as I fell, and now he was looking into my eyes, his face just inches from mine. I longed for him to kiss me, and for a moment, it seemed to me that this might happen, but alas.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm I'm fine. My foot is just wet, that's all. Let's go back." We turned around and walked back to the house. He was silent for some time, but I saw that he was deep in thought. When we approached the house, he stopped.
"I'm not going back to Red Hill. I grew up here, and I love it here. I love this house. I'm not leaving here."
"Then we'll move here. We can send our children to the local school and live here. If we sell Red Hill, we might be able to buy this house from your mother."
"You know that everything will not be easy. I'll probably be suspicious of everything you do. Do you think you can handle this?"
"I don't know, but I want to try. I want a chance to get you back. You need someone to love you. I want to be that someone, and I will do whatever it takes to make you love me again."
"That's my problem. I never stopped loving you. There were times when I wished I could stop, but there are still children, and I will do my best not to harm them. Like I said, I have some things to think about."
That was 2 days ago, and he didn't ask me to leave. In front of the children, we continued to pretend to be normal. At least, I think it was a pretense. I know I'm walking on eggshells, afraid that I'll do or say something that will make him want me to leave. And now everything will be like this. I asked myself if that's the case, then I'm not sure we can do it. Life doesn't prepare you for sharing a home with someone you love when that person keeps you at arm's length. It was so easy to start an affair with Mark, but much harder to undo the damage he had done.
Tonight, I tried a new tactic. I put on a mask to look my best. I let my hair down and combed it until it shone. Completely naked, I applied a little blush to my areola. At the other end of the corridor, Harry was lying in bed reading. Once everything was perfect, I put on my high heels and robe and walked down the hallway. I walked into Harry's room and dropped my robe on the floor. I stood in front of him, completely naked, and felt vulnerable. He looked up from the book, and his gaze took in every detail of the sight before him.
"Did you look like that to him?" he asked. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I fought the urge to cry when I realized that he would be asking himself such questions for a long time. "No, Harry, I I never exposed myself naked in front of him. There was no need for that. I'm very sorry. My behavior now was a mistake." I bent down to pick up my robe.
"No, don't get dressed. Since you came here to show yourself, show yourself." I felt the color rise to my cheeks as I looked into his eyes and realized that he meant it. Hesitantly at first, but then more confidently, I turned and walked away from the bed. I reached the wall, turned around, lowered my right hip, and placed my hand on my thigh. I looked into his eyes and walked back at the other end of the room. I stopped, turned to face him, lowered my other hip, and assumed the same position as before.
"Very impressive. No one would ever believe that you are a mother of two children."
"So what will happen now?"
"I don't know, Harry. I know what I want, but what will actually happen is up to you."
"And what do you want?"
"I was hoping you would pull back the covers and invite me to join you. We don't have to make love, just spending time in your arms would be a good start."
"And here I am, my shoulder pressed against his arm, my hand resting on his chest, feeling it rise and fall as he sleeps. We didn't make love. Harry said he's not in the mood, but I can see I'm still turning him on. Maybe tomorrow I can wake him up in my own way."
I remember it was Joni Mitchell who sang, "You Don't Know What You've Got Till It's Gone." She was right. Now I know what I had. I found out about this when I almost lost him. Even if it takes the rest of my life, I will do everything I can to get him back. Subscribe to our channel so that your second chaff doesn't cheat on you, and go ahead and listen to the next story, because this story is nothing compared to the next one. If you're under 18, don't even think about listening to the next one.