Forget About Me Forever

Forget about me forever

Forget you ever had a daughter, she said, as if she had cut it off, my daughter Emily.

Everything moved forward at a galloping pace. I felt sorry for both my child and my former husband.
We were regarded as a respectable family, a house of love, understanding and support. In an instant it all crumbled.
Emily had just turned fifteen, the awkward age, when her father left for another woman. How could she grasp, accept? And Emily slipped down a steep slopedubious companies, sketchy lads, alcohol…

I, too, was bewildered. What to do with the husband who returned? Throw him out or forgive? Forgive, yet how to live on, suspecting everything No answers came.

My James knew how to love. Wed known each other since school. He courted me beautifully, could astonish and delight. I fell headoverheels. No other suitor even entered my mind. James, and only James!
My parents approved, saying there was no better soninlaw to be found.
We held a lavish wedding, one that would linger in memory for a lifetime.

Then the ordinary days began. James always tried to brighten them. One evening I came home from work to find our bed strewn with rose petals. I stared, bewildered.
Whats the occasion? I kissed his cheek.
Remember, Mary? he laughed, the day I sat beside you in class and we got to know each other.
Oh, stop it! I brushed him off, though my heart sang. He remembers the tiniest moments. Thats my husbandgold.

James returned from a business trip bearing a mountain of face creams.
Mary, Ive been briefed on every jar, every tube of scrub. Ill explain it all. Put away the pans and pots. I need a pampered wife, not a kitchen maid, he said, settling me on the sofa beside him.

Time slipped by, and James remained tender, caring, considerate. I was proud of him. Emily adored him.
We ran a joint family business that flourished; we never denied ourselves anything. In short, we lived and rejoiced.

Then we had to move to another cityLondon, the capitalwhere richer prospects beckoned. We left behind all our possessions and set out to conquer new horizons.
Things settled into a comfortable rhythm. The business expanded, and we met a savvy lady named Claire who owned her own firm. A partnership was forged. Had I known how it would end, I would never have turned my head toward her.

Everything seemed wonderful and fantastical. James and I decided to grow our family, planning a second child. Naïve, perhaps

One day Emily came home from school and asked cautiously,
Mum, is Dad definitely on a business trip?
Of course, why would he be else? I answered, unaware.
Lucy saw him in the supermarket. She might have been mistaken, Emily whispered before retreating to her room.

I thought of Lucy, Emilys friend, who never confused James with anyone else. Lucy was a frequent guest at our house. I called her.
Hello, Lucy! Did you run into Uncle James at the supermarket today? I cant reach him, I asked, feigning innocence.
Yes, Aunt Mary, I did. He was with a girl, hugging and laughing loudly, Lucy described in vivid colours.

By the way, James was on his fifth consecutive day away. I decided to wait for the storys end.

Three days later James arrived, tired yet cheerful.
How was the trip? I began to “tighten the screws”.
Fine, he replied tersely.
I know everything, James! There was no trip! Youre lying! I erupted.
What makes you think that, Mary? he protested.
Witnesses have seen your blatant lie, I pressed.
Mary, feed your husband when hes home, then stop fussing, James deflected with a joke.

I wanted it to be a joke, a coincidence, nonsense! Yet the truth sat heavy. No doubt remained. How could I have missed my beloved husband, not watched over, not protected him? A silent tension hung between us, an unspoken strain.

Emily sensed the familys fissures. Children instantly feel shifts between their parents. I didnt want to interrogate James, to rummage through dirty laundry. Whatever would be, James wouldnt leave, knowing I was pregnant.

But the unthinkable happened. An ambulance whisked me to the hospital, and I emerged without the baby. A miscarriage, the doctor blamed on stress. It felt as if I were a naked live wire.

Jamess hands loosened. He soon left for Claire, the businesswoman, with a reckless haste. Emily and I were left alone, grieving endlessly. The ground fell away beneath our feet, the world swayed. Life seemed pointless. If not for Emily, I might have said goodbye to existence.

But I imagined Emily suffering alone, a fragile childs soul crushed. I could not let that happen. Thanks to my daughter, I didnt surrender to sin. Emily, seeing my misery, stayed by my side. We grew closer in those hard times.

Emilys nocturnal outings ceased; she fell silent, needing to rescue her mother. I had to relearn breathing, living, mingling with people.

Two years later my exhusband returned. I could not look at him; he repulsed me. The pain James inflicted on Emily and me was unforgivable. Yet I let the wayward husband into the house. What would he say? What would he bring? Only Emily remained our link. Everything else slipped away like water through sandgone without a trace.

We stood mute, strangers to each other.
How are you doing, Mary? James asked, a foolish question.
And whats it to you? Why bring up the past now? I retorted.
Is Emily home? he seemed to hope for support from our daughter.

Emily reluctantly emerged, folded her arms, and stared at her father with contempt.
Emily, darling, please forgive me, James pleaded, looking pitiful.
Forget you ever had a daughter! Emily snapped back into her room.
Repeat that? I taunted my former husband.

James left.

Our mutual acquaintances later told me that a rival had stripped James of his business, leaving him penniless. Thats why he kept coming to our door, hoping for forgiveness and acceptance.

Three years passed. Emily studied at university, I worked for a large firm. Our lives were calm, free of passion and tormentperfect stillness. I began to dream again, planning to marry Emily off to a good lad and to wait for my pension. I thought of buying a kitten or a puppy and caring for it tenderly. What more did I need for happiness? I was thirtyseven then.

Fate turned kindly. Delegations from Turkey often visited my company. One Turkish delegate, Ahmet, showered me with unmistakable attentioncompliments, gifts, even a sprig of fresh grass placed at my desk. I surrendered to the charm. He was unusually refined, strikingly handsome, courteous. Soon we were married.

Ahmet won over my parents. At first they were shocked by a foreign soninlaw, but Ahmet served them Turkish dishes, joked cleverly, and invited them to Ankara. They blessed our union.

My daughters blessing mattered most. I was about to move to my husbands homeland. Emily, seeing me radiant and in love, gave her consent.
Mother and Ahmet, be happy forever! she declared.

In time, Emily forgave her wayward father and even invited him to her own wedding.