The Indispensable One

The first time Elizabeth Hart saw Andrew Bennett at work, he had just turned up for an interview in the procurement department, while she was hurrying into the humanresources office to sign a new instruction. She had meant only to stamp the paperwork, but the sight of a handsome stranger made her pause.

Quite the looker, she thought, and independent. You can tell at once they dont make lads like that any more. She lingered to overhear the conversation. Ah the procurement department well meet soon enough, she murmured.

The following morning the newcomer arrived at the accounts office, greeted everyone with a warm smile and a curious glance. His eyes lingered on Elizabeth a moment longer, sending a strange tremor through her. Well, thats something, she blushed inwardly, weve seen a few of those.

Whether such glances were common or not the story does not tell, but Elizabeth quickly realised that Andrew was unlike any of the men she had dated before.

Andrew always met her gaze directly, gently, attentively. He never rushed, solved problems with ease, and never waited to be asked before lending a hand. Yet he never imposed himself; he could disappear when not needed and somehow appear at the precise moment she required him most. All this left an indelible impression on Elizabeth, and she fell for him utterly and irrevocably. After all, a man like that was the stuff of dreams.

Within a couple of months they were living together; six months later they were married. When their son, a spittingimage of his father, was born, Elizabeth finally understood what true happiness felt like. At night she would nestle against Andrew and whisper:

Dont you ever plan to go away, love? Ive tied you down now, havent I?

And I never intended to leave, he would answer, kissing her temple.

From the start Elizabeth knew Andrew had a daughter from a previous marriage. She asked about her, but he was reluctant to share details. One evening he finally let slip:

We havent spoken for years; I lost all contact. When Emily was three, Helen, my exwife, wouldnt let us see each other. Now shes a teenager Lets not stir up the past.

Elizabeth shrugged. If you ever want to find her, tell me. Ill support you. He nodded, and no more questions were asked. After all, Andrew was righteveryone has a past.

One day Andrew returned home looking oddly distant. He slipped off his coat, walked to the kitchen without meeting her eyes, poured himself a glass of water and simply stood there, glass in hand.

Andrew, whats wrong? Elizabeth asked, her voice trembling.

He looked guilty, then, as if making a decision, said, I found Helen on social media. I wrote to her, wanted to know how she and Emily were doing. Turns out Emily wants to talk to me. We even spoke on the phone.

Elizabeth froze. She had reminded Andrew many times about his daughter, yet this news left her feeling as if something inside had snapped.

Wonderful, she managed to say, masking her discomfort, Im glad for you both.

Andrews face brightened; he needed to hear that. For Elizabeth, however, a weight settled over her life from that moment onward.

At first the calls were brief. He would retreat to his study and close the door, muttering Emilys shy. Elizabeth remained alone in the kitchen, hearing his soft, affectionate voicethe same velvet tone that had only belonged to her days before.

Soon the former wifes messages grew longer, and photographs of an unfamiliar girl appeared on his phone. Between the lines she read a sugary, poisonous promise: Were here, were close, were waiting for you. Each time Andrew left the phone in another room, she told herself, Hes just talking to his daughter, dont imagine things.

But one afternoon, passing by, she heard the name Helen and the reality of her rival sharpened into a concrete shape. She despised herself for spying, yet she could not stop. She watched him smile at the screen, pause to choose a reply, and in every glance, every gesture, she sensed betrayal, convinced he lived two lives.

Every day she fanned the flames of jealousy until even the smallest annoyance set her off. One evening, as Andrew idly scrolled through his phone, she exploded:

Do you think Im nothing to you?

Lizzie, whats happening? he asked, genuine bewilderment in his eyes.

Dont play games! I see everything! Youre still talking to her! she hissed.

Talking to who? he seemed truly puzzled.

His incomprehension only fueled her rage. Each ringtone felt like an electric shock; every overtime shift became proof of infidelity. She became a spy in her own home, all because she loved him to the point of selfdestruction. He offered no explanations, as if he could not see how she suffered. It was unlike him.

Soon their arguments grew frequent, often over trivial matters that swelled into what felt like a global crisis. Elizabeth shouted that Andrew no longer heard her, that his gaze seemed heavy, that her very presence burdened him. In her mind a haunting thought took root: If he ever chooses the other side, theyll welcome him, love him, wait for him.

Once confident in her marriage, she now found the house she cherished crumbling into insecurity. At night she lay awake, wondering, What if he decides his past matters more than our present? By morning she chastised herself, insisting, Were a family. No, he isnt like that.

The more she tried to convince herself, the deeper her fear grewfear of his choice.

One night, Andrew left his phone on the kitchen counter and went to bathe their son. A notification flashedHelen. Elizabeths fingers trembled, her heart clenched, yet she did not open the message. The very act of reading now seemed terrifying, a normal part of her life.

Why are you so off today? Andrew asked later, after the child was asleep.

Everythings fine, she replied too quickly. He studied her for a long moment, as if he understood something, but said nothing.

When he finally fell asleep, she lay beside him, listening to his steady breathing, warm and familiar. A sudden thought struck her that perhaps another pair of ears would soon hear that rhythm. The thought burned so fiercely that she rose, slipped into the kitchen, sat on a stool, and clenched her fists. For the first time she felt utterly replaceable.

Andrew entered, and she met his eyes, tears welling. Im afraid youll leave one day, she whispered.

He crouched, taking her hands. Where would I go?

…to them, she answered, looking away.

He fell silent. In that pause she heard the most terrifying sounda silence louder than any protest or laugh. It weighed heavier than any answer.

Then came the night that changed everything. Andrew did not come home to spend the night. He didnt call, didnt text; his phone was out of reach. Elizabeth sat in the dark kitchen, replaying countless scenes of their happy life without him. By dawn her heart had turned to ice.

She sat at her laptop, her fingers moving of their own accord, typing to Helen. She wrote and wept, not noticing the tears, pouring out a desperate plea for truth. When she pressed send, a strange relief washed over her, followed by emptiness. She had made her move; now she waited for a reply.

The whole day she lingered, awaiting his return, rehearsing the confrontation in her mind, wandering the rooms, mechanically feeding her son, all the while the anticipation gnawing at her. She awaited judgment.

He finally arrived, pale and slumped, near midnight, and sat opposite her in silence.

Why did you do that? his voice was tired, barely above a whisper.

What? she snapped, her composure cracking.

I read your letter. Youve misunderstood everything.

Is that so? she cried, losing the last of her restraint. Then explain! Do you want to go back to them? They say an old love never rustsso why are you silent? Dont hide with the phone! How could you read my letter? Did she propose? Did she try to expose my weakness?

He wont answer you, Andrew said softly. I will answer. Everything will be alright if you dont ruin it yourself.

How convenient, Elizabeth sneered, and very handy. Fine, say nothing. Im not even interested now. I shouldnt have written to her.

Helen died, Andrew exhaled. Tonight. I was with her until the end.

Elizabeth thought she had misheard. The world seemed to freeze. Her breath caught; a chill spread through her.

She died? she whispered, as if fearing the answer.

Yes, he nodded. Shed been ill for a long time. She was glad I turned up, but she never confessed. She wanted to see how wed get alongher and Emily. She wasnt trying to win me back; she only wanted Emily not to be alone.

He sighed heavily. Do you see now why everything depends on you? If you say no, Ill have to find somewhere for Emily.

Do you mean an orphanage? a horrified note crept into Elizabeths voice.

No, of course not. Helens family and mine have relatives. I hope someone will take her in. But I cant decide without you.

Elizabeth jumped up, her voice sharp and frightening even to herself. Dont even think about it! Emily will live with us! Understand? With us!

Andrew froze, closed his eyes for a heartbeat. When he opened them, tears glistened.

I knew I believed youd say that, he said quietly.

Elizabeth pressed her face to his chest, the fear and suspicion of months melting away. Ahead lay a new, difficult life, but she no longer feared. She had chosen, and the pasts shadows finally fell behind her.