HIS First Love

4:00 pm

( Spring Peak Cafe)

I sat in my favorite café, staring at the cup of coffee in front of me that had long gone cold. I did not know how long I had been there. Maybe hours. Maybe minutes. Time had lost its meaning the moment I ran out of the house earlier today.

Maybe I was a fool. Or maybe I was just pathetic.

I kept hoping James would come looking for me.

I had run away from the house without saying a word. Any normal husband would be worried by now. Any man who loved his wife would have called, messaged, or at least tried to find her. I told myself that maybe he was busy. Maybe he was thinking about me. Maybe he was worried but did not know where to look.

I picked up my phone again.

Nothing.

No missed calls. No messages. No notifications.

I refreshed the screen like it would suddenly change if I stared at it hard enough. My fingers trembled slightly as I checked again. Still nothing. It felt like a cruel joke. I glanced at the time.

4 p.m.

My heart sank.

I had left the house in the morning. Hours had passed. And yet, he did not care enough to check on me even once. The hope I had been holding onto slowly crumbled. I leaned back in my chair and let out a tired sigh. My body felt heavy, like all the strength had drained out of me.

I stayed a little longer, even though there was no reason to. Deep down, I still hoped he would suddenly walk through the café door, his eyes searching desperately until they landed on me. I imagined him apologizing. Asking where I had gone. Asking what was wrong.

But that never happened.

When the sky outside darkened and the café lights turned warmer, reality finally settled in. I gathered my things and stood up slowly.

I decided to go home.

The drive back felt longer than usual. My thoughts were loud, chaotic, refusing to settle. When I finally arrived, I noticed the house lights were on. My heart skipped a beat. He was home.

As I stepped inside, the sound of running water reached my ears. The shower was on.

James was at home.

A strange sense of hope rose in my chest. Maybe he had been worried and come back early. Maybe he was getting ready to come look for me. I stood there quietly, listening to the sound of the water, my heart pounding with fragile expectations.

Then I heard a soft ping.

I froze.

It came from the living room. From the couch.

James’ phone.

I stared at it from where I stood, my feet rooted to the floor. I had never touched his phone before. Not once in our marriage. He trusted me, and I trusted him. Or at least, I thought I did.

I was that naive wife. The obedient one. The one who never questioned, never doubted, never disobeyed.

But today, something inside me snapped.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I walked over and picked up the phone. My hands shook slightly. The screen lit up.

It was not locked.

He trusted me that much.

My heart twisted painfully as I unlocked it. I told myself I would just take a quick glance. Just enough to calm my racing thoughts.

The first thing I saw made my breath hitch.

A name saved as “V” with a love emoji beside it.

I laughed softly, bitterly.

Pathetic.

I opened the chat.

My chest tightened as I scrolled. There were so many messages. Dozens of them. All sent just within a few hours today. Messages filled with warmth, regret, longing, and affection. Things he never said to me anymore.

I checked the time on one of the messages.

1 p.m.

That was the exact time I arrived home earlier. The exact moment I stood outside the door, listening to him confess his love for her.

My fingers trembled as I continued reading.

“I’m back.”

“I know.”

“I’m so sorry for what I did, baby. I know you will not forgive me. I’m really sorry.”

My vision blurred slightly, but I forced myself to keep reading.

“I tried dating so many guys abroad, but none of them were like you. I always remembered you.”

I swallowed hard.

“I heard you’re married now, so I guess maybe we never had a chance.”

I scrolled down slowly, afraid of what I would see next.

“Vanessa, don’t say that, okay? Don’t say that.”

My heart dropped.

“You’re my first love, no matter what. I’ll always be with you.”

I read her reply.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

I stared at the screen. The timestamps showed how quickly he replied to her. Seconds. Immediate responses. As if he was waiting for her messages.

When I sent him messages, it took ten minutes. Sometimes an hour. Sometimes longer.

That was when I finally saw it.

The cracks in our marriage had been there for years. I was just too blind, too trusting, too in love to notice them.

I continued scrolling.

Plans.

Details.

He was going to pick her up from the airport.

I lifted my head slowly and looked toward the bathroom door. The sound of the shower continued. Suddenly, everything made sense.

No wonder he was showering.

He was getting ready for her.

My fingers clenched tightly around the phone. Just then, a new message popped up.

“I have a surprise for you.”

My heart pounded.

“But don’t worry. Come pick me up at the airport first. I’m almost landing.”

I felt dizzy.

For a second, I nearly threw the phone across the room. My chest felt tight, like I could not breathe properly. I placed the phone back on the couch carefully, as if it might burn me.

I walked into the kitchen, my legs weak, my mind spinning. I did not even know what I was preparing. My hands moved on their own, pretending everything was normal.

Then I heard the bathroom door open.

I turned.

James came out, fully dressed already. Clean. Fresh. Handsome.

Too handsome.

So fast.

“Are you going out?” I asked quietly.

He paused for a brief moment. Just a second too long.

“Yes,” he stuttered slightly. “Do you have… is there a problem?”

“Is there any problem at the hospital?” I asked, pretending I knew nothing. My fists clenched tightly at my sides.

He walked over to me and pressed a kiss on my cheek.

“Yes. I really need to go to the hospital. I have scheduled operations today,” he said smoothly. “I’m so sorry. You’re making dinner, right? I’m not sure I’ll be able to join.”

My eyes burned.

I forced myself to smile. “No, there’s no problem.”

“No problem, right?” he asked again.

A single tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it.

He frowned. “Why are you being emotional? It’s just a dinner I’m missing. Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you.”

He did not need to know why that tear fell.

I quickly wiped it away and smiled. “No, it’s nothing. I was just thinking about how handsome my husband looks.”

He studied my face for a moment, then pulled me into a hug.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly. “I’ll finish my work and come back early.”

“Yeah,” I replied quietly.

In my heart, I finished the sentence for him.

I will see if Vanessa allows you to come back early. After all, she has a surprise for you.

He picked up his keys and turned toward the door. “I’ll call you later,” he said.

I watched him leave.

The door closed softly behind him, but the sound echoed loudly in my chest. I stood there alone in the kitchen, surrounded by silence, my heart aching in ways I never thought possible.

I slowly placed my hand over my stomach.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

And for the first time that day, I finally broke down and cried.