Chapter 16: Shattered Vows

Emily opened the front door, her drooping shoulders reflecting the gravity of the stresses of the day. The familiar scent of lavender, so adored by her mother-in-law Mrs. Maddison, welcomed her into the vestibule. Emily's heart sank; she hadn't planned to be there today.

"Emily, you're home," Mrs. Maddison's voice carried its typical mix of artificial warmth and underlying criticism from the living room.

Emily forced a smile and said, "Yes, I didn't know you would be visiting today."

Mrs. Maddison thought she had surprised her son with a dinner cooked at home. She remarked, looking Emily over from head to toe, "He should get some formal care, particularly given your business. Thank you for your assistance, but David and I run just okay."

"Renew did you?" Mrs. Maddison raised an eyebrow. "David appears to be left frequently to fend for himself from where I stand."

Emily replied, "We both have demanding jobs," after inhaling deeply. "It is a co-relationship. A partnership?" Mrs. Maddison sneered. "Neglecting your husband's needs isn't partnership in my estimation."

Emily suffered a chest convulsion. "What exactly are you insinuating?"

"Oh, come now, dear," Mrs. Maddison said, her voice saturating condescension. "Everybody knows about David and that Jane lady. It could be that he would not have to look for solace elsewhere were you more attentive."

Emily felt like the room was closing in around her. She had known that she and David were getting further apart, but hearing her mother-in-law validate it was a shock she was not ready for.

Emily answered, her voice trembling with a mixture of rage and sadness, "together with me and David..."

"It's becomes my business here—my son's happiness is concerned," Mrs. Maddison replied. "He never found you good enough. Constantly more worried about your work than your marriage."

Emily experienced blurry vision from tears left unshed. "How dare you come into my house and speak to me like this?"

"You house?" Mrs. Maddison chuckled with a cold mirthlessness. "This buy was made using my son's hard work. You have only been a guest here."

The debate mounted, voices increasing; every word cut more than the last. Years of bitterness welled up inside Emily; her polite efforts collapsed under the weight of Mrs. Maddison's claims.

Emily spat, regretting her words but unable to stop, "Maybe if you hadn't coddled him his entire life, he wouldn't be the kind of man who cheats on his wife."

Mrs. Maddison's eyes flicked with anger. "How dare you blame me for your failures as a wife?"

The debate raged on—a hurricane of pain, regret, and accusation. Finally, unable to hold it any longer, Emily grabbed her coat and stormed from the building, abandoning Mrs. Maddison alone in the living room, the echoes of their falling-out hanging in the air.

Emily felt a blend of relief and hopelessness as she strolled down the street, the cold evening air stinging her skin. The truth was revealed, but at what price? Her marriage was strained, and the distance separating her from her mother-in-law seemed unbridgeable. She had to locate David, work with him, and learn their current position and whether their damaged marriage had any hope left.

But for now, all she could do was keep trudging; every stride drove her farther from the life she once knew.

Emily's heart beat rapidly as she addressed David about his infidelity. David's face stiffened, his eyes narrowing with contempt instead of regret. He confessed in a chilly voice, "Yes, I am with Jane. Furthermore, I don't really regret it."

Emily choked on her breath. "How can you claim that? After all we have experienced?"

David sneered, "What have we been through, Emily? You've neglected everything else—especially me."

"Fairly not," Emily objected. "For our future, I have been working diligently."

"Our future?" David sneered. "Or just yours? You never thought about what I desired. Jane does. She pays attention, cares, and makes me feel alive—something you haven't done in years. She lists."

Emily's eyes started to water. "You are blaming me for your infidelity. So, this is my fault?"

David moved his shoulders. "If the shoe fits. Perhaps I wouldn't have needed to look elsewhere if you had been a better wife."

Emily's hands shook with rage. "I find it hard you're turning this around on me. You broke our vows. And you are the one who drove me to it," David shot back. "Accept it, Emily; our relationship has been dead for years. Jane merely brought me to awareness of it."

Emily felt like she had lost the ground under her. "So, then? You're abandoning me for her?"

David glimmered with deliberate satisfaction. "Maybe I am. Jane at least makes me feel valued."

As David's words weighed down on her—crushing and cold—the room appeared to whirl around Emily. Each second dragged on indefinitely as the quiet that followed was heavy with strain. Emily's head raced as she tried to comprehend the man in front of her—a stranger with her husband's face.

She finally managed to ask, her words barely a whisper. David crossed his arms and settled back. "Here it does not matter."

Emily said, her voice growing stronger, "It matters to me. I must know the truth."

He grumbled, rolling his eyes, "This is OK. It has been running for around a year."

"A year?" Emily screamed. "You've been betraying me for a whole year?"

Once more, David shrugged. "Our marriage was finished long ago, as I said."

Emily flared with agitation. "You coward. Rather than tackle our problems, you decided to run to somebody else."

"Don't act so innocent," David sneered. "You were never around—always working late, always exhausted. What were you expecting of me? I was hoping you would be honest," Emily shot back. "Having our problems solved together, we might be communicating."

David laughed a mean, mocking laugh. "Communication? You? To me, you never listened, Emily. It was always your goals that were discussed."

Though she felt guilty, Emily pushed it aside. "That doesn't excuse your actions."

"David acknowledged; rather, it elucidates them." Tears ran down Emily's cheek as she shook her head. "This is not happening," she said.

"Believe it," claimed David coldly. "Perhaps it's meant to be natural as well. Now we both can move on."

Emily echoed in a flat tone, "Move on. Exactly like that?"

David responded, rising up, "That's just like that."

"I am done feigning. I'm finished with this pretense."

Emily sat in shock as David strolled away, leaving her alone amidst the ruins of their marriage.

With a sure click, the front door slammed shut, its sound echoing throughout the deserted building. Emily was perturbed by the heaviness of the argument; she stood still, her mind replaying the discussion repeatedly as hours seemed to pass. Every term, every charge, cut deeper than the last.

At last, Emily shifted as the first light of sunrise crept in through the curtains. She moved to the bedroom—their bedroom—and perched on the side of the bed. The sheets reminded her painfully of what she'd lost. He still smelled like her.

She glanced briefly at their wedding day photo on the nightstand, framed and capturing a time when they seemed joyful and hopeful. It all seemed like centuries ago now.

With quivering hands, Emily grabbed the photo and gazed at it, seeking answers in their happy expressions. But all she saw was a naive woman who believed in happily ever after. Her attitude was still inspiring, even if not measured by the object under review. Her worldview remained convincing, even if it was not the subject of explicit examination. She was still an inspiration, her mood still light—even if she was no longer the center of attention. Her good nature was infectious, yet all she saw was a naive woman who believed in happily ever after.

Her perspective remained valid, her humanity evident, her warmth and radiance unmistakable—yet all she saw was that same naive girl who believed in happily ever after.

Is there any skepticism at all? Might there be any need for a change in viewpoint? Do we have any reason to doubt? Might there be something different to see apart from the thing in view?

She laughed bitterly and turned the photograph face down. There was no reversing; nothing broken could be fixed.

She rose and made for the closet, yanking a suitcase out. Should David want to move, so would she. She had to take control of her life, rediscover herself.

Packing, she felt a sense of resolve. She didn't need David or his agreement. She was strong, capable, and truly deserving of love.

Emily zipped up the suitcase and turned around the room one last time before rushing for the door. She looked forward to meeting the next chapter head-on.

Emily experienced an odd mix of grief and freedom as she stepped outside into the cool morning air. The weight of betrayal still pressed heavily on her heart, but beneath it simmered a newfound resolve.

She drove around for a bit, watching as the streets of the city gradually came to life. Though everything felt jumbled, one thing was clear: she required assistance. Reaching for her phone, she called Gift, her best friend.

Later, standing in the poorly illuminated kitchen, Emily clasped the edge of the counter with shaking hands. The conflict with David had grown far beyond what she had expected. Every syllable of his words resonated in her head like a dagger cutting through the broken remnants of their relationship.

David had spat, his gaze unyielding, "Do you think I love you? Not I do. Jane is wonderful."

His statement hovered like a poisonous cloud, choking the space between them. Emily's heartbeat pounded relentlessly, her breath catching in her throat. She had sensed the growing distance and known about the affair, but to hear him declare his love for another was a shock she had not anticipated.

She looked him directly in the eye, her voice calm despite the storm raging inside. "If that's how you feel, why are you still here?"

David sneered, "I only love you. Alternatively, maybe I just love seeing you suffer."

The severity of his remarks contrasted sharply with the man she had once adored and promised to marry. That man was dead; this stranger, who seemed to derive joy from her anguish, had replaced him.

"You are a coward," she whispered tensely. "Behind your deception and lies, hiding away—a quadruple coward, ashamed to confront the outcome of your actions."

He looked furious. "And you're a dummy, clutching onto a marriage that has already passed away for years. Wake up, Emily." He gestured dismissively between them—over.

She felt his words were final, like a burial shroud. Having battled for their marriage and suffered humiliation and infidelity, she understood the futility of her efforts as she stood before this man who openly declared his love for another.

"You're right," she murmured. "It is over."

For a brief moment, David's face shifted from shock to indifference. "Happy you at last come to sense," he remarked, then turned and strolled away without another word, leaving Emily alone in the oppressive quiet. His treachery weighed heavily on her, but beneath the suffering, a small spark of determination began to glow.