For illustration purposes only
My husband has been working too hard for the past 3 weeks. He barely ate all this time. He lost weight and looked exhausted. I was seriously worried about him. Recently, I woke up at 4 am to make him an early breakfast. He was still sleeping.
I went to the kitchen and froze in shock, because I saw an unfamiliar woman, standing near our cooking stove. She was chopping vegetables, apparently for some salad, and she was behaving like she was familiar with all the things in our kitchen.
I started screaming, the woman turned around, made a ’shh’-sign and said, ’I thought you’d wake up even earlier. We need to talk, Angela. About Max, you and me. I’m here to shed a light on many things in your life, after our talk you’ll probably hate me, but you have to know the truth.
Angela wasn’t prepared for the harsh truth coming from a strange woman in her kitchen.
I asked her about who she was and how she managed to come to my house, unnoticed. She said that she had a key and showed it to me. It, indeed, was the key to our house. She asked me to sit down, and when I reluctantly did, she introduced herself.
Her name is Miranda, she said, she’s 28, and she’s my husband’s mistress. She told me that she and Max had been together for over 2 years now, and she boldly stated that they were so in love with one another that they were going to get married one day.
Then, she told me she was 5 months pregnant, from my husband. And that was their long-awaited child. The pregnancy was a high-risk one, about a month ago she was diagnosed with placental hyperplasia, which meant she needed to take care of herself even more than before, there was a high risk of miscarriage.
Miranda told me that all these 3 weeks, my husband was spending time with her. He took a vacation from work and was taking care of her and their future baby. He was worried about the pregnancy, this is why he could hardly eat anything. And he told me he had a lot of work, because of their company’s worsened balance.
Angela’s strength in such a painful situation deserves all admiration.
Miranda told me that she made a duplicate of our key in advance. She’d been here before, and this is why she knew my kitchen like the back of her hand. She’d been preparing for this conversation, and Max didn’t know anything about her intentions, otherwise he’d have talked her out of this idea.
She pleaded me to leave my husband for the sake of their happiness, and I was just sitting there, in my own kitchen, with that strange woman, who wanted to be an owner of my happy life, and I couldn’t say a word
When she stopped talking, I finally regained my composure. I heard my husband coughing nervously behind my back. He woke up, and he was just standing there, listening to the final phrases of his mistress. I stood up, approached him, looked him straight in the eye and wished him to be happy. Max was trying to say something, but I didn’t listen. I left without saying anything else to him and Miranda.
Surprisingly, I wasn’t feeling bad at all. I felt relieved. I know that wrong people come into our lives to show us that we deserve better. And now, while I’m in the process of divorce, I’m ready to start a happy life, with my own house, with a decent sum of financial compensation and with a heart full of hopes.
