З життя
His Future” or “The Life Ahead of Him
“Thanks, Johnny! I dont know what Id do without you,” flashed the notification on her phone.
Her husbands phone vibrated right in her hand. Emily glanced automatically at the screen. The sender was someone named Mary. The message ended with a pink heartlike a little kiss.
Emily froze. Mary? Johnny? She might have assumed it was some distant relative or a colleague, except for one detail: her husband had never mentioned anyone by that name. Or had he been keeping her hidden?
She looked up sharply. She needed the truth first, not rash conclusions. But jealousy twisted her heart.
“Whos Mary?” Emily asked, fighting to keep her voice steady.
John, sipping his tea calmly, blinked in confusion.
“What?”
“Mary,” she repeated, thrusting the phone toward him. “Who is she?”
He glanced at the screen, and for a split second, tension flickered in his eyes. He shrugged.
“Oh Thats just Mary.”
“Which Mary?”
“My ex. Theres nothing between us now.”
She set the phone down and crossed her arms.
“Your ex calls you ‘Johnny’ and thanks you with hearts? You think thats normal?”
John shrugged again, as if it wasnt worth discussing.
“Yeah. I lent her some money. She asked, I helped.”
Rage flared inside Emily.
“You gave money to your ex?!”
“Yeah, whats the big deal?”
“Whats the big deal?!” She scoffed. “Seriously? You think its fine to take from our savings and hand it to some Mary?”
He finally met her eyes.
“Emily, youre making a mountain out of a molehill. Weve known each other for years. Why shouldnt I help her?”
She laughed, but there was no joy in it.
“Youre married, John. To me! And yet youre still wrapped up in her, your ex.”
He sighed impatiently, like he was explaining something obvious to a child.
“We didnt end badly. Shes not a stranger.”
“And am I?”
John fell silent. Emily shook her head and exhaled sharply.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Going on?”
“Your little friendship.”
He looked away.
“Weve always talked. Even before you. I just never mentioned it. Didnt want to upset you.”
Emily felt her whole body burn with fury.
“So for two years, you hid it?”
“I didnt hide it! There was no reason to tell you. Im not cheating. Why are you overreacting?”
She took a deep breath, forcing herself not to shout.
“How often do you help her?”
“Now and then. Small things. Fixing stuff, setting up her laptop.”
“So my husband runs around after another woman like a handyman?”
“Whats that supposed to mean?!” he snapped. “I helped her, lent her money! Is that a crime?! Id do the same for you!”
Emily looked at him with cold resolve.
“If you cant see whats wrong with this, then we have very different ideas of what a marriage means.”
She turned and walked out of the kitchen. She couldnt bear to look at him.
That day passed like a blur for Emily. Anger, hurt, confusion. She tried to think rationally, but one question echoed in her mind: *How did I miss this?*
John didnt seem guilty. Now he didnt even hide talking to Maryjust acted like it was nothing.
Over the next two weeks, everything became clear. Her husband was often late from work. Every few days, Mary had some “urgent” problem.
“Im going to Marys tonight,” he announced casually over dinner. “Her washing machine broke.”
Emily set her fork down and stared.
“Are there no repairmen in town?”
“Come on, is it so hard to help someone?”
“For you, no. For me, yes.”
“Here we go again! Is this all well ever talk about?”
“Yes, again,” she replied coldly. “Because your ex always *needs* help. At least you dont share kids.”
John sighed but kept eating.
“If it were the neighbor or my mum, would you react the same?”
“The difference is, they wouldnt call you every day.”
“Emily,” he said, exhausted. “Youre acting like Ive cheated.”
“I dont know if you have, but this isnt normal. And it bothers me,” she shot back.
He smirked.
“You dont trust me.”
“Have you given me reason to?”
Silence settled between them.
Three days later, Mary reappeared.
“Mary called,” John said offhandedly. “She wants to buy a fridge but cant get it delivered.”
Emily turned slowly toward him.
“So now youre dropping everything to deliver her fridge?”
“Whats the problem?”
“John, do you seriously not see it?”
“I see you making a scene over nothing.”
“Im not the one making a sceneyou are. And I dont want to be part of it. If youre so desperate to help Mary, you might as well move in with her. Save on petrol.”
“Are you serious?”
“Completely.”
“So youre kicking me out?”
“No, John. Im giving you a choice. Either youre in this marriage, or you walk away. But I wont have you here like this.”
She turned and left. She wouldnt fall for his games anymore. Maybe he thought honesty meant admitting where he was going. But to Emily, it wasnt honestyit was betrayal.
Twenty-four hours passed since their last argument. Emily sat in the kitchen, staring at her phone. John hadnt called, hadnt texted. He was gone. Maybe to
After ten days of silence, Emily understood: sometimes a breakup isnt a loss, but a lesson in refusing to settle for less than you deserve.
