Attention From Elsewhere
698 Words
The human heart becomes vulnerable when it feels ignored.
Bertha did not wake up one morning planning to betray Kenneth.
It happened slowly.
Through loneliness.
Through silence.
Through unmet emotional needs she didn’t know how to handle.
And that made everything more dangerous.
Three days passed without seeing Kenneth.
Not because he didn’t want to see her.
But because work had completely consumed him.
Every conversation between them now sounded rushed.
“Baby, I’ll call you back.”
“I’m in a meeting.”
“I’m handling something important.”
At first Bertha tried to understand.
But understanding becomes difficult when absence starts feeling personal.
That Friday evening, Bertha went out with her friend Anita to clear her mind.
The lounge was alive with music, laughter, and flashing lights. Couples danced freely while expensive perfume and alcohol filled the air.
Bertha wasn’t really in the mood.
She sat quietly, scrolling through old pictures of herself and Kenneth.
Pictures from happier weeks.
Pictures where he looked at her like she was the only woman in the world.
Anita noticed immediately.
“You’re thinking about him again.”
Bertha sighed.
“He’s changing.”
“Or maybe he’s just busy.”
“He barely notices me anymore.”
Anita leaned closer.
“Then stop making him your entire world.”
Bertha looked away silently.
That was easier said than done.
A few minutes later, a tall man approached their table confidently.
Well-dressed. Smooth smile. Expensive watch.
“Good evening, ladies.”
Anita smiled instantly.
But Bertha barely looked interested.
Still, the stranger kept his attention on her.
“You look too beautiful to be this sad.”
Bertha forced a small laugh.
“I’m fine.”
“I don’t think so.”
Normally, she would have ignored him completely.
Normally, Kenneth’s love would have been enough to make every other man invisible.
But tonight was different.
Tonight she felt unwanted.
And attention suddenly felt comforting.
Meanwhile, Kenneth sat alone inside his office surrounded by unfinished work.
His eyes were red from stress.
He picked up his phone and stared at Bertha’s picture for a long moment before calling her.
No answer.
He frowned slightly.
He called again.
Still nothing.
Kenneth leaned back in frustration.
For the first time in weeks, he actually wanted to hear her voice.
But Bertha was busy laughing at another man’s jokes.
And she hated herself a little for enjoying the attention.
Hours later, Bertha finally returned home.
Her phone showed seven missed calls from Kenneth.
Guilt immediately hit her chest.
Before she could think too much, her phone rang again.
Kenneth.
This time she answered quickly.
“Hello?”
Kenneth’s voice sounded tired.
“Where were you?”
“I went out with Anita.”
“You couldn’t answer your phone?”
“It was loud there.”
Kenneth was silent for a moment.
Then he asked softly, “Are you okay?”
That question nearly broke her emotionally.
Because despite everything… he still cared.
And suddenly Bertha felt confused.
Confused about her anger.
Confused about her loneliness.
Confused about why another man’s attention had made her feel temporarily powerful.
“I miss you,” she whispered.
Kenneth closed his eyes immediately after hearing those words.
Because he missed her too.
Terribly.
“I’m trying, Bertha.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Kenneth said quietly. “Everything is falling apart around me right now.”
Bertha sat down slowly on her bed.
“Then why don’t you let me in?”
Kenneth didn’t answer immediately.
Because the truth was simple:
He had spent his entire life carrying problems alone.
And now, even in love, he didn’t know how to stop.
That night, neither of them slept peacefully.
Kenneth worked until morning trying to save his business.
Bertha stared at the ceiling replaying everything happening between them.
And somewhere deep inside her heart…
a dangerous hunger had started growing.
The hunger to feel desired again.
To feel chosen again.
Even if it came from the wrong person.
Love was still alive between them.
But cracks were beginning to spread beneath the surface.
And soon…
those cracks would become impossible to hide.
- Writer
