I cant come yet. The regime is strict. Ill be home soon, a tiny voice whispered from the kitchen, the spoon clinking against the porridge.
Mom says Dads in the hospital, but hes actually at Aunt Sallys, announced eightyearold Emily, scooping the mush with a nervous grin.
Grandma Margaret, her hands trembling around a chipped teacup, had arrived for the weekend to help with chores while her soninlaw supposedly lay under a surgeons knife. She hovered by the stove, eyes flicking between the kettle and the girls squeaky accusations.
What did you just say, love? she asked, trying to keep her voice as smooth as a polished teapot.
Emily stared up, cheeks flushed. Whats wrong with what I said? Dad lives with Aunt Sally. Mom showed me photos on her phone theyre laughing, making pancakes together.
Grandmas heart skipped a beat. From the bathroom emerged Olivia, wrapped in a damp robe, hair dripping like a waterfall of silver.
Mother, why are you so pale? Olivia asked, noticing the pallor.
Olivia, we need to talk, Margaret murmured, nodding toward the childrens playroom.
Emily, go watch cartoons, Olivia instructed, her voice soft as a lullaby.
I havent finished my porridge! Emily protested.
Finish it later. Off you go, sunshine.
When Emily vanished down the hallway, Margaret turned back to Olivia, her eyes searching the young womans face.
Explain whats happening, she said, voice barely a whisper.
Olivia sat opposite her, turning away as if shy of her mothers gaze.
What about it? Margaret pressed.
The fact that Andrew isnt in any hospital. Hes staying with Aunt Sally, and youre covering it up, Olivia replied, tugging at the edge of her robe.
Silence settled like a fog. Margarets fingers twitched at the cuff of her cardigan.
Olivia, Im your mother. Ive known you for twentyeight years. When you lie, the left eye twitches. See? Its twitching now.
Mother, you dont understand
Then tell me! Why does my daughter protect a cheating husband? Why lie to me and to your own child?
Tears welled in Olivias eyes. Because Im scared of losing him!
Margaret pulled her daughter close, smoothing her hair. Their familys story had never been simple.
She and Andrew had met at university she studying English literature at Oxford, he a law student at Cambridge. Both came from modest backgrounds, sharing a cramped dormitory. Olivia had always been the quiet, homebound one, unnoticed in the school corridors, while Andrew was the campus heartthrob: tall, handsome, captain of the debating team. Their friends could not believe the shy girl had snagged the star.
Andrew showered Olivia with flowers, cinema trips, introductions to his mates. She waited for some twist, some revelation that would expose his folly. But there was none; his affection was genuine, drawn to her modesty and kindness. Beside her, he felt shielded from a world that demanded constant performance.
After graduation they married. Andrew joined a city law firm, Olivia became a primaryschool teacher. A year later Emily arrived, and they dreamed of buying a terraced house in a leafy suburb.
The early years were bright. Andrews career rose, Olivia raised Emily, and they planned their new home. Slowly, though, Andrew lingered later at the office, citing new clients and promotion prospects. Olivia, proud, saw only his ambition.
Six months ago the first cracks appeared. Andrew began traveling for business trips, received a sleek new car, and spent less time at home. When asked, he claimed fatigue and stress.
Maybe we should take a holiday, the three of us, to the seaside? Olivia suggested.
I cant. Its a hectic period. Ill manage, he replied, his voice a thin veil.
Months stretched. He stopped coming home at night, citing secret meetings and late negotiations. Olivias suspicion grew, but she dismissed the dark thoughts.
Then, a month earlier, she entered his study and saw his phone lighting up with intimate messages from a woman named Samantha. The texts were blunt, confirming an affair. Olivias stomach churned. The impulse was to storm out, to file for divorce, to pack everything. Yet the thought of Emily, now five, the loss of her job, the empty house, held her back. She chose a different path: pretend ignorance.
Whats the name on this? she asked Andrew calmly when she saw the contact Samantha on his screen.
Its a new client, handling paperwork, he replied, eyes darting.
She nodded, believingor pretending to believe.
When Andrew later announced he would be hospitalized for an operation, Olivia wasnt startled. She already knew they shared a flat with Samantha, living as a makeshift family, while she kept up the role of the unsuspecting wife.
Tell me everything from the start, Margaret urged later, her voice a thread of silk.
Olivia recounted the messages, the nocturnal business trips, the flat with Samantha. Margaret listened, her head bobbing faintly.
How long will you endure this? Margaret asked finally.
I dont know. Maybe hell sober up, think its a midlife crisis, Olivia guessed, though Andrew was only twentynine.
My love for him is real, Olivia whispered, and Emily cant grow up without a father.
Should a child have a cheating father? Margaret shot back. Emily already knows. She told me she sees the truth. Children arent stupid; they understand more than we give them credit for.
Emilys voice echoed in Olivias memory: Dad lives with Aunt Sally, not in a hospital. He cooks pancakes with her, not with us.
That night, after Emily fell asleep, a phone rang. Andrews face appeared on the screen.
Hello, Olivia said, trying for normalcy.
Hi. Hows the treatment? Want me to visit? he asked.
No need. Doctors say Im fine, just a week more to rest, he replied, while a womans laugh and music floated behind him.
Andrew, can we meet? Emily misses you, Olivia pleaded.
I cant now. Strict regime. Ill be home soon.
When?
When the doctors let me.
Olivia wept on the kitchen floor, Margaret sitting beside her.
Did he really call? Margaret asked.
Yes, about the strict regime. But there was music, a womans laugh.
Olivia stared at the darkness, feeling the weight of the dream pressing down.
The next day, when Margaret left for the market, Emily approached her mother at the stove.
Mum, when will Dad come back from the hospital? she asked, eyes solemn beyond her years.
Olivia looked at her daughter, seeing a wisdom that belied the childs age.
Emily, sit down. I need to explain something, she said.
About Dad not being in the hospital? Emily asked.
Do you know?
Of course. Im not a baby. He lives with Aunt Sally. I saw pictures on your phone of them making pancakes together. Hospitals dont make pancakes, Emily replied.
What do you think about that? Olivia asked, startled.
He probably doesnt love us anymore. He loves Aunt Sally, Emily shrugged.
Olivia felt a ache tighten around her heart.
Sweetheart, adults sometimes make mistakes. Dad is a human too, he can err, Olivia tried.
Why did you say he was in the hospital? Emily pressed.
Because I hoped hed realize his mistake and return, Olivia whispered.
What if he never returns? Emily asked.
I dont know, love. I dont know, Olivia admitted.
Emily fell silent, then said, Mum, why dont we just live without Dad? Just the two of us. That would be fine.
Olivia realized her child had already decided their fate.
Youre right, Emily. Lets live on our own, she said.
Can we move to Grandmas? She said shed take us, Emily suggested.
Yes, if you dont mind a tiny flat, Olivia agreed.
Not a problem. Just dont cry at night anymore, Emily added.
Olivia chuckled, a dry laugh. Did you hear me crying?
No, Im not deaf or blind. Mum, lets stop lying to each other, Emily said.
Lets, Olivia agreed, hugging her tightly.
That evening Olivia typed a message to Andrew:
We need to meet and discuss everything. Emily knows about Aunt Sally.
An hour later his reply arrived:
How does she know? What did you tell her?
Nothing. Kids arent deaf. Come tomorrow, well talk.
Two days later Andrew arrived, looking guilty and dishevelled. Emilys face lit up, but she kept her composure.
Dad, are you still sick? she asked.
No, sweetheart, he replied.
Then why did Mum say you were in the hospital? You live with Aunt Sally, Emily pressed.
Andrew stammered, clearly unprepared for such bluntness.
Emily, go to your room, Olivia instructed. I need to speak with your father.
When the child disappeared, Olivia faced Andrew.
So, Andrew, what now? she asked.
Olivia, I
No explanations needed. Just tell me do you want to keep this family or not?
Andrew remained silent.
Fine, Olivia said. Lets sort out Emilys arrangements maintenance, birthdays, visits.
Its not that simple, Andrew protested.
It is simple. You live with another woman. Ive covered for you, lied to my child and my mother. Enough! Olivia snapped.
I never planned for this, Andrew whispered.
But it happened. We must decide what to do next, Olivia replied, her voice firmer than ever.
Andrew stared at his wife, who now seemed a woman reshaped by the nightmare of their lives. He saw the resolve in her eyes, the steel beneath the softness.
I dont want a divorce, he said finally.
What do you want then? For me to keep covering your betrayals? To keep lying to our child? To wait at home while you play family with Aunt Sally?
Olivia, give me time to think, he begged.
There is no time, Andrew! Emily understands everything. She needs certainty. Either you return home and we try to rebuild, or we separate civilly, Olivia declared.
How do I choose a family? Andrew asked.
Then no more Aunt Sally, no more secret trips. A honest, open life, Olivia answered.
Andrew fell silent, contemplating.
I need a week, he said.
Make it a week, Olivia replied. No more extensions.
A week later Andrew called, asking for a meeting. They met at a quiet café, Emily absent.
Ive decided, he said. I want to try to restore the family.
What about Aunt Sally? Olivia asked.
Its over, he replied.
Andrew, Ill give you one chance. One. If you cheat again, its over forever, Olivia warned.
Understood, he said.
Well see a family therapist together, she added.
And no more secrets from Emily. If youre travelling, she knows where, why, Olivia stipulated.
Agreed, he said.
Olivia looked at him, unsure if they could truly mend the broken glass of their marriage, but willing to try for Emilys sake.
Come home tomorrow. Emily will be happy, she said.
That night Olivia told Emily about the conversation.
He said he wants to come back, that he wont stay with Aunt Sally, Olivia said.
Do you believe him? Emily asked seriously.
I want to, Olivia answered. What about you?
I hope hes honest. If he lies again, well go to Grandmas. Deal?
Deal, Olivia smiled, amazed by her childs wisdom.
The next day Andrew returned, bearing flowers for Olivia and a new doll for Emily. They ate dinner together, as a family. Emily asked, Dad, will you ever live with Aunt Sally again?
No, he said, Ill stay with you.
Will you ever want to? she asked.
No, he replied, I wont want to.
Will you ever try? Emily pressed.
I promise I wont lie again, he said, looking at his wife.
Olivia nodded, and Emily giggled, returning to her peas.
Time would tell if trust could be rebuilt, but Olivia knew she would never again deceive herself, her daughter, or anyone else.
As Emily drifted off to sleep, she thought about how strange adults were, why they tangled themselves in endless lies when the simple truth could set everything free. And most of all, she felt a warm glow that perhaps, at last, her father truly belonged home.
