Settling into my airplane seat, I eagerly reached for my beloved’s phone to reassure him that I had made it on time and everything was fine. To my astonishment, I soon realized that I had grabbed his phone by mistake. Initially, everything seemed normal, until later in the evening when I received a text message from someone named Alina.
Seven years ago, my husband and I bound ourselves in the ties of marriage. It’s worth mentioning that between us, there’s not just love and harmony, but also a deep understanding. Or so I thought… Our paths first crossed during a business meeting. I delivered a presentation that caught his eye, and from there, our relationship blossomed into marriage.
We were both financially comfortable, making similar incomes. We indulged in new cars and were in the process of completing our spacious country house. However, I must confess to one significant flaw: my tendency to become absent-minded when rushed, often leading to silly mistakes. This trait would prove pivotal in the events that followed.
It all began when my immediate supervisor was hospitalized and tasked me with urgently filling in for him on a business trip. As I hastily packed for the trip, I inadvertently grabbed my husband’s phone instead of mine. On our recent anniversary, we had both acquired identical phones and set the same passwords – our wedding date.
While I typically left my phone in the hallway, my husband was inseparable from his. Anxious to make my flight and avoid traffic, I tucked what I thought was my phone into my bag, bid my husband goodbye, and hurried off.
Once settled in my airplane seat, I attempted to inform my beloved that all was well. To my shock, I realized I had taken his device instead. Left with no choice but to stay connected and ensure I didn’t miss any important calls, I agreed with him to forward his messages and calls to me. Initially, everything proceeded as usual, until my husband received a call from someone named Marina. When I answered, there was no response.
Moments later, another call came through from Marina. Sensing she might not understand the mix-up, I attempted to explain, only to be met with silence once more. Two minutes later, a text arrived: “It’s over between us.”
My initial instinct was to forward the message to my husband, but amidst the confusion, I accidentally deleted it instead. The drive back was fraught with thoughts of Marina, leaving me at a loss for what to do. Confronting my husband about adultery seemed futile; an apology wouldn’t assuage my hurt, and divorce proceedings would only add more stress.
Besides, I’ve grown accustomed to our lifestyle and the freedom it affords. Finding another man like him would be no easy task. Perhaps it’s best to let Marina fade from memory like a bad dream, to move forward without dwelling on what might have been.
