For eight years, I thought Isabel and I had an ideal life. “We really do have a great life, don’t we?” I said one evening. She smiled and nodded, but there was something in her eyes I couldn’t read. Our ups and downs seemed normal, and I believed we could work through anything together. I was wrong.
While on a business trip, I got a call from Nurse Karen. “Your wife, Isabel, is in the ER. She’s unconscious.” Panic surged through me. I turned the car around and sped to the hospital, fearing the worst. When I arrived, the nurse said, “I thought her husband brought her in. He’s with her now.”
In the room, a man sat by Isabel’s bed, holding her hand. “Who are you?” I demanded. “I’m Logan, her… lover. We’ve been dating for a year.” My fists clenched, but I forced myself to stay calm. Logan continued, “She felt neglected because you were always so busy with work.”
Isabel had felt neglected and drifted apart from me. Logan admitted, “I’m the one who told the nurse I was her husband. I’m sorry for the confusion.” When Isabel woke up, she asked Logan, “Who are you?” He lied, “I’m your husband’s work colleague.” Before leaving, he whispered to me, “Make her happy.” His words echoed in my mind. It felt like a second chance, a fresh start.
