Betrayal
Peter raised his hand in farewell:
“Right then, Rosemary, Im off! Ill transfer the money to Mum, dont worry.”
The door slammed behind him, and Rosemary sank onto the stool, suddenly overcome with tears.
“Mum, whats wrong?” Her son appeared in the kitchen. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Rosemary was ashamed of her weakness. “Nothing serious, love. Just a bit down, missing the boys.” Jonathan and Christina were staying with Gran.
“No,” Daniel said firmly. “People dont cry like that over a bad mood. And you talk to the boys every day. Im not a kid anymore, Mum. I understand things.”
Rosemary looked at her sixteen-year-old son, already taller than her, and unexpectedly voiced what she hadnt dared admit even to herself:
“I think your dads about to leave us,” she added, seeing his silent question. “Hes been lying to me. For almost six months now…”
Daniel didnt know how to react. Hed thought she was upset about work or a row with a friend. But this? His *dad*? How could that happen? Anger surged in him, and his mother noticed.
“Daniel, dont. These things happen between adults. Youll understand one day. Your dads a good manyou cant force the heart.”
Even as she spoke, Rosemary didnt believe her own words. She wanted to scream, smash things, but instead, she was telling her eldest son to *forgive* him! Daniel clenched his fists.
“Let him go then! Well manage without him. Whys he even still here?”
“Love, you say youre grown up, but youre acting like a child. Everyone makes mistakes, dont they? Your dad will realise this is just a passing fancy. His familys what really matters”
“Mum,” Daniels voice cracked. “Whyd he do it? Ill never respect him the same way again.”
“Itll work out, love,” Rosemary patted his hand. “Dont tell your brothers, alright?”
“You too,” Daniel wiped his eyes. “We dont want their faith in their big brother shaking, do we?”
Rosemary checked the clock.
“Arent you late for practice?”
Daniel jumped up.
“Blimey, I am!”
Alone, Rosemary sank into thought. Talking to Daniel had kept her calm, but now, the hurt surged back.
“How could he betray everything we had?”
When shed first met Peter, hed been carefree, always surrounded by girls he called “little birds.” When Rosemary said she wouldnt be just another, hed replied seriously:
“Why another? The only one. For life.”
And shed believed him, the fool. Seventeen years together, three childrenthrough thick and thinand hed still strayed.
It started six months ago. Or earlier? She hadnt noticed. But no, surely not… Six months back, theyd been invited to a weddingPeters favourite nephew. Rosemary couldnt go, but shed insisted Peter attend. Hed protested half-heartedly, but family duty won. Later, scrolling through wedding photos online, shed spotted a woman glued to Peters side. A pang shot through her. Shed even mentioned it, but Peter had blinked, distracted.
“Who? Oh, the brides friend. No idea why she kept hovering. Honestly, Rosemaryjealous? Shes not even my type!”
Shed believed him. The woman *wasnt* his typeshe knew that! But a week later, odd calls began: silence, then sighs. Rosemary complained:
“Some girl keeps ringing and breathing down the line. Even Daniels little birds dont pester like this!”
The calls stopped after that, but she didnt connect it to their chat. Not until laterwhen Peter, a jeans-and-jumper man, suddenly started wearing suits, ties, and expensive cologne instead of his cheap aftershave. And then came the late nights. When she asked, hed said breezily:
“Major project at work, love! Once its done” Hed grinned. “well holiday wherever you like. That fur coat you fancied? Daniels hoverboard, maybe even a quad bike. Hang in there, yeah?”
After that, Peter worked weekends too. Plans for a family hike? A call would comeguilty look.
“Rosemary, work needs me. Deadlines, you know…”
Rosemary longed to find that woman from the photos, drag her by the hair. But she didnt even hunt for her nametoo afraid of what shed do.
Six months of this left her a wreck. Around others, she held it together; alone, she crumbled. Today, after talking to Daniel, she resolved:
“Ill confront him. Daniel mustnt grow to hate his father.”
But Peter beat her to it. He called, inviting her to a restaurant:
“Rosemary, we need to talk. Without the kids.”
She smiled bitterly. He knew shed never make a scene in public.
At first, she considered going in her gardening clotheslet him be ashamed! Then, last minute, she changed her mind:
“Ill look my best. Let him see what hes losing.”
The taxi driver watched her in the mirror. As she paid, he said unexpectedly:
“Pretty lady like you, so sad? Dont worryitll all work out.”
The kindness lifted her mood. She entered the restaurant smilingonly to freeze. Peter held a rose. Why bring a flower if he was leaving? A funeral bouquet for their love? The morbid thought amused her.
Over dinner, they chatted about nothing. Inside, Rosemary braced for the blow. Finally, she snapped:
“Peter, you said we needed to talk.”
He nodded.
“Right. Briefly then” He paused, steeling himself. “Ive been thinking… Would you mind if we skip the holiday, the coat, the quad bike?”
She braced for the worstbut he continued:
“Got nearly double pay today. ThoughtDaniels sixteen, nearly independent. What if we put this towards a flat for him? By eighteen, itd be his. Smart investment, yeah?”
“I see,” Rosemary said calmlythen stalled. “*What?* A flat? What flat?!”
“Werent you listening? Youve been so distracted lately. Rosemary, whats going on?”
Peter shouted. In the restaurant, hed held back; outside, he let loose:
“Have you lost it? An affair? Me? I *explained*critical project, late nights! You never objectedI bragged about my understanding wife! And this is your understanding? Accusing me over *nothing*!”
They walked home, Rosemary listening to his tirade with a growing smile. His scolding was music to her ears. At the doorstep, Peter finally quieted.
“Didnt I say once Id found my one and only? Have I *ever* lied to you?”
…Daniels day had been rubbish. His mums confession threw him off. Late to practice, hed earned the coachs glare, took a beating in drills, then rowed with a mate over nothing. Hed wandered the streets, itching for a fightanything to unleash his anger. But no thugs obliged. Returning home, he spotted a couple kissing. Recognised his mums coatand his blood boiled. *He* accused Dad of betrayal, and *she*? Fists clenched, he stepped forward
“Oh, son,” Peter smiled awkwardly. “We were just…”
…Alls well that ends well, eh?
*Sometimes the shadows we fear are just trees in the wind.*