Chapter 3 - The Man I Thought Was My Rival
I met Andrew at the same café.
The same table.
The same window.
The same place where I had seen him holding my wife's hand.
He stood when I approached.
“James.”
“Andrew.”
We shook hands.
I hated that he seemed like a decent man.
It would have been easier if he were arrogant.
Or cruel.
Or smug.
Instead, he looked uncomfortable.
“I don't want to fight you,” he said.
“Good.”
“I care about Lauren.”
“I know.”
“And I care about your children.”
That irritated me.
“They're my children.”
“I know.”
He sat.
I remained standing for a moment before taking the chair opposite him.
“Tell me what I don't know.”
Andrew took a breath.
“Lauren almost died two years ago.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“Not physically.”
I stared at him.
“She was emotionally destroyed.”
He told me about the night Emily had been hospitalized.
Lauren had spent eleven hours in the emergency room.
Alone.
I had called twice.
Then gone back to work.
Andrew had stayed after his shift because Emily was struggling to breathe.
“Lauren sat beside her bed all night,” he said.
“I know.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“You don't.”
I looked down.
“She didn't sleep.”
Andrew continued.
“She cried in the hallway because she thought she was failing as a mother.”
I felt sick.
“I didn't know.”
“She didn't tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because she called you.”
I froze.
“She called me?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Three times.”
I remembered.
That night.
My phone had been on silent.
I had been with another woman.
I closed my eyes.
Andrew continued.
“She eventually stopped calling.”
I whispered,
“I didn't know.”
“That is what Lauren means when she says you weren't there.”
I stared at the table.
Andrew leaned forward.
“I didn't pursue her.”
“What?”
“She was married.”
“You were holding her hand.”
“Because she was having a panic attack.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“She still struggles with anxiety after what happened.”
I felt ashamed.
“So you're not having an affair?”
“No.”
“Then why did she tell me there was something between you?”
“Because there is.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“A friendship.”
I stared at him.
“She trusts me.”
Those words hurt.
Not because of Andrew.
Because I realized how badly I had failed.
Andrew reached into his jacket and pulled out a photograph.
It showed Lauren and Emily in the hospital.
Emily asleep.
Lauren sitting beside her.
Andrew standing in the doorway.
“That's the night we met.”
I looked at the photograph.
“She was broken.”
“And I listened.”
I nodded.
“I understand.”
Andrew looked at me.
“No, James.”
“What?”
“You still don't.”
He pulled another photograph from his pocket.
It showed Lauren sitting across from a lawyer.
My lawyer.
I recognized the office.
“What is this?”
“She was preparing to leave you.”
“I know.”
“She wasn't planning to take everything.”
“What?”
“She wanted the house to go to the children.”
I stared.
“She was going to leave almost everything behind.”
My throat tightened.
“Why?”
“Because she wasn't trying to punish you.”
I couldn't speak.
Andrew stood.
“One more thing.”
“What?”
“She still loves you.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“She told me she does.”
I laughed bitterly.
“She loves me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why leave?”
“Because love isn't enough when trust is gone.”
Andrew walked away.
I sat alone.
For years, I had believed cheating was about sex.
It wasn't.
It was about every moment I chose someone else over my wife.
Every lie.
Every missed phone call.
Every night Lauren waited for me.
Every time she wondered what she had done wrong.
And suddenly, I understood.
May you like
I hadn't cheated on her once.
I had cheated on her every day.
