The Husband's Mistake

Chapter 3: Stranger

Elisse:

***

The house was completely quiet when I woke up the next morning. Light filtered through the curtains, and for the first time in a long while, my chest didn’t feel heavy the moment I opened my eyes.

William was still beside me.

He was lying on his side, facing me. He was sleeping soundly, yet the exhaustion and the things he couldn’t say—even if he wanted to—were still etched on his forehead. I moved carefully, afraid I might wake him. I didn’t know what kind of morning I wanted—one where last night felt like nothing more than a dream, or one where the tenderness we had long denied each other would continue.

I got up and quietly went to the bathroom. When I looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes were still swollen. But despite that, there was a strange firmness in my gaze.

I needed to know.

I couldn’t live on suspicion alone anymore.

When I stepped out, William was already awake. He was leaning against the headboard, holding his phone, but the moment he saw me, he put it down.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Good morning,” I replied.

A brief silence settled between us. It wasn’t new, but this time, I felt its weight more deeply. It was like a thin sheet of glass stood between us—you could see the other side, but you couldn’t touch it.

“Do you have work today?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I canceled my meetings.”

I froze. “Why?”

He stood up and walked toward me. “Because I want to be here. With you.”

I wanted to believe him. God, I really did. But trust isn’t rebuilt by beautiful words alone.

“William,” I began carefully, “what you said last night… about Elijah…”

He took a deep breath. “All of it is true. I’ve been carrying that for a long time. I was angry at the world, at myself—but I poured it all onto you. And that was wrong.”

I nodded. “It still hurts,” I admitted. “But thank you for admitting it.”

I didn’t mention my suspicion. Not yet. I needed to be sure first. Because if I was wrong, I didn’t want to ruin this moment. But if I was right, I needed to be ready.

He suggested we have breakfast outside. I agreed. At a small café near our place, we pretended to be a normal married couple. He laughed at my simple jokes. He held my hand across the table. And with every smile he gave me, my fear only grew stronger.

Because I knew he was still hiding something.

While he was paying at the counter, my eyes drifted to his phone left on the table. The screen lit up—a notification. A name I didn’t recognize.

Sophia.

My fingers went cold.

William returned as if nothing had happened. “Ready?”

I smiled. Forced. “Yes.”

But inside me, a decision was slowly taking shape.

I wouldn’t confront him yet. I wouldn’t make a scene. Not now.

I would go home to Mom’s on Sunday—just like I said. And in the days in between, I would look for the truth. Quietly. Carefully. Without rash actions.

If there really was another woman, I would find out. If there wasn’t, then I would face my own fears.

This time, I wouldn’t back down. I wouldn’t stay blind. I wouldn’t live in the dark anymore.

The drive home was silent. William’s eyes were focused on the road, while I stared out the window, watching the trees rush past. His hands were on the steering wheel, but I could feel that it wasn’t just the road on his mind.

And me—I wasn’t at peace either.

When we got home, he went in first. He placed the keys on the table and took off his coat, looking completely drained. I wanted to go to him, hug him, tell him I was still here. But a voice inside me stopped me.

The fight wasn’t over.

“I’m heading out for a bit,” he suddenly said. “I just need to get something from the office.”

I looked at him. “Now?”

He nodded. “I won’t be long.”

I smiled. “Okay.”

But when the door closed, my shoulders sagged. It was as if all my strength had been drained. I sat down on the sofa, trying to calm myself. I kept telling myself it might be nothing. That maybe she was just a friend. A coworker.

But why hadn’t he mentioned her?

I checked the time on my phone. There were still a few hours before nightfall. Enough time to think—and to decide.

In the end, I stood up and got dressed. I grabbed my bag and keys. I didn’t know if what I was about to do was right, but I knew that if I stayed in the house, I would only lose my mind.

I went to the mall. Not to shop—but to breathe. I sat in a café on the second floor and ordered coffee I barely touched. That was when the name surfaced in my mind again.

Sophia.

I opened social media and searched for the name. One, two, three—many profiles appeared. But one made my heart pound.

A woman with an elegant smile in her photo. Beautiful. Professional-looking. Several posts about work.

And one picture.

Only the back of a man was visible, but his posture was familiar. The watch on his wrist was familiar.

It felt like a cold hand gripped my heart.

I didn’t open anything else. I closed the app and turned off my screen. My fingers were trembling. This wasn’t proof. Not yet. Not enough.

But it was enough to tell me I wasn’t imagining things.

When I got home, William still wasn’t there. The house was quiet—quieter than before. I sat on the edge of the bed and closed my eyes.

If you have something to say, say it now, I whispered to myself.

When the door opened around ten in the evening, he went straight into the bedroom. He looked tired, but when he saw me, he smiled.

“Sorry, it took a while.”

“It’s okay,” I said.

He lay down beside me. I felt the weight of his body, the warmth of his presence. Before, that would have been enough to calm me. Now, it wasn’t.

“Love,” he said.

“Hm?”

“Thank you… for giving us another chance.”

I closed my eyes. “William,” I said gently, “there’s something I want to ask.”

I heard his breathing pause.

“Are you hiding something from me?”

He didn’t answer right away. Seconds passed—each one like a knife cutting through my chest.

When I turned to face him, I saw his eyes shift away.

And that’s when I knew.

Even before he said anything, there was already a lie between us.

And I wouldn’t let it stay in the dark.

He took a deep breath before finally facing me. I saw the tension in his jaw, the slight clenching of his fist—movements I knew all too well. This was how he was when he was holding something back.

“Why are you asking that?” he said, trying to stay calm.

“Because I feel it,” I replied. Direct. No beating around the bush. “For a long time now. I don’t want to pretend that everything is fine anymore.”

He sat up and leaned against the headboard. He rubbed his face briefly, as if searching for the right words—or maybe the courage.

“I don’t have anyone else,” he finally said. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”

I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or hurt. Because no matter how he tried, there were still holes in his explanation.

“That’s not my question,” I said calmly. “My question is—are you hiding something?”

He went silent again.

And in that silence, I felt my hope slowly crumble.

“Sophia. She’s been helping me at the office. She’s my new assistant. We’re often together at work. That’s all.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. “Why did I have to feel it and guess?”

He sighed. “Because I didn’t think it mattered. Because I was already losing you, Elisse. I didn’t want to add more.”

His answer hurt—not because it was lacking, but because it came too late.

“Do you know,” I said softly, “that not telling the truth hurts more than the truth itself?”

I stood up. My knees were trembling, but I forced myself to stay strong. “I’m going home to Mom’s on Sunday,” I added. “I need time to think.”

“Are you running away?” he asked, fear creeping into his voice.

I shook my head. “No. But if I stay here without my trust being whole, we’ll only end up hurting each other.”

He came closer and held my arm. “Please. Give me another chance. I swear—I’m not doing anything wrong.”

I looked at him. I searched for the William I loved. The man I dreamed of spending my life with. He was still there… but surrounded by shadows.

“I’m not saying you don’t have a chance,” I said. “But I’m no longer the woman who will accept half-truths.”

I gently removed his hand from my arm.

“I trusted once,” I continued. “And I lost my child, myself, and almost you.”

I turned away before my tears could finally fall.

That night, we lay in the same bed—

but we were like two strangers

inside our own room.