«He married you, but he loves me,» her friend said, avoiding eye contact.
«Marina, do you want coffee?» asked Emily, flicking the kettle on and pulling two mugs from the cupboard.
«Yes, please. Make it strongmy heads pounding,» Marina rubbed her temples and slumped into a kitchen chair.
Emily silently scooped coffee into the mugs, then turned to her. Theyd been friends for over a decade, since uni, and Emily could always read Marina in a glance. Right now, she looked exhausteddark circles under her eyes, hair hastily tied back.
«Late night again?» Emily asked carefully.
Marina nodded, tracing the pattern on the plastic tablecloth.
«Stayed till half-one with reports. Theyre due tomorrow, and the numbers wouldnt add up. I get home, and Olivers already asleep. I leave in the morning; hes already gone. Its been like this all week.»
Emily slid a steaming mug across the table and sat opposite. Something flickered in her eyes, but Marina didnt catch it.
«How are things between you two, anyway? Since the wedding?» Emily stirred sugar into her coffee.
«Fine, I suppose,» Marina shrugged. «Still adjusting. You know the first years the hardest. Mum says its all about磨合磨合, you know?»
«磨合,» Emily repeated, bitterness creeping into her voice.
Marina finally looked up, studying her.
«Emily, whats wrong? You seem off today.»
«Im fine,» Emily waved a hand. «Just knackered. Works mad, and weve started redecorating. Barely keeping my head straight.»
But Marina wasnt buying it. They knew each other too well. That looksame as when Emily had confessed her crush on their philosophy lecturer back in uni. That same spark in her eyes, the same tightness in her voice.
«Emily, just tell me. Were friends,» Marina pressed.
Emily stood, walked to the window, and stared into the yard. Then she turned abruptly.
«Marina, I need to say something. I just dont know how youll take it.»
«What is it?» Marinas pulse sped up.
«Its about Oliver.»
«Oliver?» Marina slowly set her mug down. «What about him?»
Emily stepped closer but kept her eyes lowered.
«Weve been seeing each other. For six months.»
Marina froze. The words didnt register at first.
«Seeing each other how?»
«Properly. After work. Weekends when youd visit your parents. Marina, Im sorryI never meant It just happened.»
«It just happened?» Marinas voice dropped, turned icy. «An affair just happened?»
«Dont call it that. We just understand each other. We talk, go for walks, the theatre»
«The theatre,» Marina echoed. «Do you sleep together for understanding too?»
Emily flushed. Silence was answer enough.
Marina stood. Her legs shook, but pride kept her upright.
«How long?» she asked, surprised by how steady she sounded.
«Six months. It started before your wedding. We tried to stop, but after he called me.»
«He called you after the wedding,» Marina said slowly. «So on our honeymoon, he was thinking of you?»
Emilys head dipped lower.
«Marina, I know it hurts. But he married youand loves me. I love him too. We never wanted to hurt you, but»
«He married me but loves you,» Marina repeated, the words a death sentence.
The kitchen fell silent. Just the tick of the clock and the hum of the fridge. Marina stood there; Emily still wouldnt look up.
«Why tell me now?» Marina finally asked. «You couldve kept lying.»
«I couldnt. Oliver wanted to tell you, but I thought itd be better coming from me. Were friends»
«Friends,» Marina laughed bitterly. «Ten years of friendship, and this is how it ends.»
«Marina, love isnt a choice. It just happens. We didnt plan»
«You didnt plan to stand at my wedding and toast my happiness? Ask how we were? Tell me to be patient with him?»
«I wanted it to work for you, honestly. But I cant help it. I love him.»
«And he loves you?»
Emily lifted her head. The look in her eyes shattered Marina completely.
«Yes,» Emily whispered. «He does. He says he realised too late. When it was already done.»
«Done? A weddings not a prison. He couldve said no.»
«He didnt want to upset you. Thought hed grow to love you. Youre kind, goodeveryone said you were perfect together.»
«Perfect,» Marina sank back onto the chair. Her legs gave out. «So he married me out of pity?»
«Not pity. Respect. He cares about you»
«But doesnt love me.»
«No. Im sorry.»
Marina buried her face in her hands. Her thoughts blurred. Six months of marriage, and all of it a lie. His tired excuses, late nightsit all made sense now.
«Where did you meet?» she asked, voice muffled.
«My flat. Sometimes cafés across town.»
«Your flat,» Marina repeated. «This kitchen, where were sitting now?»
Silence. More damning than words.
Marina grabbed her bag.
«Where are you going?» Emily panicked.
«Home. To talk to my husband.»
«Marina, waitwe can figure this out.»
«Figure what out? A threesome? Or should I hand him over and play the understanding friend?»
«I dont know. I just dont want to lose you.»
«You already did. The second you slept with him.»
«Marina!»
But Marina was already out the door.
On the bus home, she stared blankly out the window. Passengers shuffled, stops were announced, but she saw none of it. Just those words on loop: *He married you but loves me.*
The flat was silent. Oliver wouldnt be home for hours. Marina sat on their bedthe bed theyd shared for six monthsand tried to pinpoint the signs. His distance, the lack of real intimacy. Shed blamed stress, adjusting to married life.
Now she remembered Emilys prying questions, Olivers frequent late calls. How Emily had stopped inviting her over.
The key in the lock startled her. Oliver was early.
«Marina? You home?» he called.
«Here,» she answered, amazed her voice didnt crack.
He kissed her cheek like always. An ordinary bloke, thirty years old. Her whole worlduntil today.
«How was work?» he asked, loosening his tie.
«Fine. Yours?»
«Same old. Shattered.»
He showered. The domestic routine. All a performance.
«Oliver,» she said over dinner.
«Yeah?»
«Emily told me something today.»
He froze, spoon mid-air. Then slowly set it down.
«What?» His voice tightened.
«That youre seeing each other.»
He closed his eyes. «She told you herself?»
«Half an hour ago. In her kitchen. At the same table where you probably had dinner.»
«Marina»
«Dont explain. Just tell me: is it true?»
«Its true,» he met her gaze. «I was going to tell you. Ive been trying to for days.»
*Days.* While it had been *months.*
«Since before the wedding?»
«Yeah. We tried to stop, but»
«But true love couldnt be denied,» she finished.
Oliver stood, walked to the window.
«I never wanted this. But I love her.»
«Do you love me?»
A pause. Then:
«No. I thought I would, in time. Youre good to me. But loves not something you force.»
«Why marry me?»
«You wanted it. Everyone said it was time. I thoughtwhy not? Youre safe. Steady.»
«Safe,» she echoed. «Like a savings account.»
«Thats not what I meant. I didnt want to hurt you.»
«And lying for six months didnt?»
He turned. She saw shame in his eyes.
«I know it hurts. It kills me too. Pretending every day.»
«Poor you,» she said flatly. «So what now?»
«I dont know. Divorce, I guess.»
«Guess so. And marry Emily?»
«If shell have me.»
«She will. She loves you. And you love her. Simple.»
Marina stood, clearing the table. Her hands trembled, but she managed.
«Marina,» Oliver called.
«What?»
«Im sorry. I know its vile. But I couldnt help it.»
«You couldve not married me. Couldve told the truth. Couldve not lied for six months.»
«I was scared of hurting you.»
«And made it worse.»
He had no reply.
That night, they slept on opposite sides of the bed. Marina listened to his breathing, realising the man beside her was now a stranger. One sentence from Emily, and her life had crumbled.
In the morning, Oliver left without a word. Marina called in sickshe needed time.
Pacing the flat, she searched for what she felt. Pain, yes. Anger. But also relief. The truth was out. All the half-truths, the fakenessit made sense now.
Emily called at noon.
«Marina, can we talk?»
«About what?»
«Everything. I want to explain.»
«You did.»
«Not properly. Please.»
Marina nearly hung up. But curiosity won.
«Go on.»
«Meet me. Its not a phone conversation.»
«Im fine here. Talk or dont.»
Emily hesitated, then rushed out:
«I never meant to fall for him. We just talkedat your birthday, remember? You ran out for cake, and we stayed. He admitted he wasnt sure about the wedding. That he was scared. And I I liked him. Too much.»
«And?»
«We started meeting. Just talking. He said he couldnt be honest with youdidnt want to upset you. But with me, he could. And I fell for him.»
«And stole your best friends fiancé.»
«I didnt steal him. I told him not to marry you if he didnt love you. But he said he couldnt let you down.»
«Heroic,» Marina said drily.
«I know its awful. But what was I supposed to do? Stop feeling?»
«You couldve walked away. Left our lives.»
«I tried. After the wedding, I ghosted him for two months. *He* reached out.»
«And you caved.»
«Because I missed him too.»
Marina listened, realising shed have sympathised once. Understood, maybe even forgiven. Now, she felt nothing.
«Emily,» she said, «you got what you wanted. Olivers yours. Why ask for my forgiveness too?»
«Because you matter to me. I dont want to lose you.»
«You already did. The second you slept with him.»
«Marina»
«Were done, Emily. Dont call again.»
She hung up, switched off her phone.
That evening, when Oliver returned, she handed him a suitcase.
«Packed your things. Ill file for divorce tomorrow.»
He nodded. «Where will I stay?»
«Emilys, I expect. Or rent somewhere.»
«Marina,» he lingered at the door. «If you need help with the paperwork»
«Ill manage.»
«Right. Im sorry.»
«Youre forgiven,» she said, and shut the door.
Then she cried. Properly, for the first time. And when the tears stopped, she felt free.
The divorce was quick, amicable. Oliver didnt fight for the flat her parents had given her; she didnt ask for alimony.
A month later, she heard Oliver and Emily were living together. It didnt hurt. Just surprised her, how little she felt for people whod once meant everything.
Then, one weekend, walking in the park, she met a man with a dog. He helped pick up her dropped shopping. They talked. Turned out they had loads in common. And most importantlyhe looked at her in a way Oliver never had.
«Fancy a coffee?» he asked.
«Alright,» Marina agreed. And thought: *Maybe lifes just beginning. The coffee was warm in her hands, the air crisp around them as they sat on a bench beneath a golden canopy of autumn leaves. He listenedreally listenedwhen she spoke, and for the first time in years, Marina felt seen. Not as a wife, not as a betrayed friend, but simply as herself. They talked until the light faded, until laughter came easier than silence. And when he smiled at hersoft, unhurried, full of quiet hopeshe didnt look away.
