Part 2: The Dinner
I couldn’t tell Susan.
I couldn’t tell her at the birthday dinner. I couldn’t tell her anywhere.
Because the truth was worse than I had imagined. The woman I had been seeing was Susan’s sister. The child I had been supporting was Susan’s nephew. And Deborah had known for four years.
I called Susan the next day. I told her we needed to talk.
We sat in the kitchen. I told her everything. The affair. The child. The payments. The connection.
Susan listened. She didn’t say anything. She just listened.
And when I was finished, she looked at me.
“You’ve been sleeping with my sister for seven years,” she said.
“Yes.”
“You have a child with her.”
“Yes.”
“Deborah knew the whole time?”
“Yes.”
She stood up.
“I need you to leave,” she said.
“Susan—”
“Leave. Now.”
Part 3: The Aftermath
I left.
We divorced. I lost the house. I lost the business. I lost everything.
Susan moved away. I don’t know where she is. She doesn’t talk to me.
Her sister—the woman I had been seeing—she moved away too. She stopped taking my calls. She stopped responding to my messages. I don’t know if she’s okay. I don’t know if our son is okay.
Deborah cut me out of her life completely. She was the only one who had known the full truth, and she was the only one who had tried to protect Susan.
And now I’m alone.
I have nothing. No family. No friends. No future.
I think about that phone call sometimes. The day I called Deborah to tell her about my affair. The day I thought I was being brave, honest, responsible. The day I thought I was doing the right thing.
I was wrong.
I was so wrong.
The End
