He Took His First Love, So I Left

Chapter 2

When Richard first called from Westhaven, he didn't ask whether I'd eaten.

"Susan's oxygen saturation is only 88%, and she has a terrible headache. What medication should she take?"

I was showing the caregiver how to turn my mother-in-law in bed. Over the phone, I could hear Susan trying to stifle her coughs. I told him to contact a local doctor immediately and not to give her medication on his own.

Susan spoke beside him. "Don't worry, Margaret. I can go back to the hotel by myself. I don't want to disrupt Richard's plans."

Richard objected. "She's been a nurse for 30 years. Answering one question won't exhaust her. Stop making excuses for her."

He'd forgotten I was still on the line. Or perhaps he was simply so used to it that he expected me to do what I'd always done and put my own hurt aside whenever something needed doing.

That afternoon, dozens of photos of the Eldermere Mountains appeared in the family group chat. Susan posed at the scenic overlooks I'd researched, while Richard held the camera for her. In her hands was the travel planner I'd spent 3 months putting together. She checked off each stop as they went.

Susan: Your travel planner is so detailed, Margaret. I'm really benefiting from all your hard work.

After sending that message, she added another.

Susan: When you come here, I'll tell you all about the routes I've taken.

Richard replied underneath.

Richard: She doesn't like all that running around. If you see it for her, that's just as good.

I stared at just as good for a long time. I'd never wanted to see the Eldermere Mountains simply because they offered scenery I'd never seen before. I wanted to know whether, after 30 years of always coming last, he could put me first just once.

That evening, he sent me another booking confirmation. It was a place on an October group tour to Westhaven, booked for one person, with the exact itinerary I'd written.

"I've booked you a trip to make up for it," he told me when we spoke. "Patricia's retired too. You can go together."

"Will you come with me?"

"I've just been. Why would I go again?"

I told him Patricia Morgan wasn't the person I'd been waiting 30 years to travel with.

He went quiet for a moment, then quickly lost patience. "It's the same place and the same route. I've even paid for it. What more do you want?"

"Then why do you have to go with Susan yourself?"

"She just got divorced. I can't leave her alone somewhere unfamiliar."

Susan moved closer to the camera, her tone as gentle as ever.

"If this bothers you, Margaret, I can go home tomorrow. It's just that Richard promised to stay with me for the rest of the itinerary. I don't want to put him in a difficult position."

Every time she offered to step aside, she first made sure everyone remembered that Richard had chosen her. Sure enough, Richard told me to stop taking my anger out on Susan.

"I've already made it up to you. What else do you want from me?"

I refused the ticket he'd bought for me alone.

That night, my daughter called. It was the caregiver's first night shift, and my mother-in-law was refusing to eat. My daughter wanted me to come home and coax her into eating. I explained how to make the soup and what food consistency her grandmother needed, then told my daughter to stay there that night.

"Mom, I have to take my child to school tomorrow."

"I have work tomorrow too."

The other end of the line went quiet. For 30 years, they'd told me the family couldn't manage without me. Only when I stopped filling every gap did they discover that what they'd called impossible was simply work no one else wanted to do.

At 11 p.m., Richard unexpectedly video-called me. He stood at the foot of the Eldermere Mountains, pointing the camera toward the distant snow line.

"Haven't you always wanted to see this? I came all the way back just to show you."

The words "just to show you" still brought tears to my eyes. I hated how little it took.

I almost told him that if he stopped contacting Susan after he came home, I'd be willing to hear him out one more time.

But Susan called to him from outside the frame, asking him to join her for a photo.

"Richard, the checklist says we're supposed to take a couple photo here. It wouldn't look right with just me in it."

Richard didn't correct her. He hurriedly told me we'd talk later. Before the call ended, I saw him walk over to Susan and accept a love lock from a staff member.

Five minutes later, Susan posted the photo in the family group chat. She explained that it was just an activity for visitors, but Richard had written both their names on the lock himself.

I left the shared travel album they'd just created and deleted the Westhaven itinerary I'd kept on my computer for 30 years. That same night, the hospital approved my retirement application.