For the first time, Catherine saw her husband James’s father at their wedding. He hadn’t been invited but came anyway, striding across the hall toward his son and his bride, ignoring the furious glare of his ex-wife.
— I know I’m an unwelcome guest here, but you’re my son, and I couldn’t miss congratulating you on such an important day, — he said, handing James a thick envelope stuffed with money. — Your bride is beautiful, and I’m sure she’ll be the best wife. Will you introduce us?
— Yes, Dad, meet her. Darling, this is my father, Oliver James. And this, — he turned to his father, — as you know, is my wife, Catherine.
— Catherine, may I have the honor of a dance? — Oliver smiled, extending his hand.
Catherine glanced shyly at her husband, who nodded, and she placed her hand in her father-in-law’s. He led her confidently in the dance, and she suddenly thought, embarrassed, that he was still so youthful and handsome. Oliver leaned closer and whispered:
— I wholeheartedly wish you and James happiness. This is my personal gift to you.
Pausing, Oliver pulled a slim box from his jacket’s inner pocket, revealing an elegant gold bracelet and exquisite earrings. Catherine gasped and blushed. Having grown up in a poor family, she had never owned jewelry beyond a delicate gold chain her relatives had pooled together to give her for her eighteenth birthday. Oliver kissed her flushed hand, then escorted her back to James, said his goodbyes, and left.
— James, — Catherine turned to her husband, — maybe you should go after him and bring him back? It feels awkward!
— Catherine, I told you, Mom hasn’t forgiven him for his many affairs. Look at how she’s staring at us—she wanted him anywhere but here.
Catherine glanced at Irene Victoria and noticed the sparks of anger in her eyes.
— James, please, go calm her down, ask her to dance. Let’s not ruin our celebration.
James nodded and approached his mother. She was indeed upset by Oliver’s appearance at the wedding. Irene, eight years older than her ex-husband, now fumed, thinking how remarkably well he looked.
*God, he’s so handsome.* James took after him entirely, and she would have been happy if not for Oliver’s constant betrayals, which she had no intention of forgiving. He’d cheated even when she was pregnant, then lied to her face, claiming he loved only her. Irene glanced at her second husband, George, James’s stepfather. She’d married him for his money after the divorce, partly to spite Oliver, but hadn’t been happy with him for a single day.
Now, George, a balding, ruddy-faced man, was heartily devouring a plate of appetizers, oblivious to everyone, including Oliver’s arrival. Irene, with a mix of hatred and unexpected envy, watched Oliver glide across the floor with her son’s bride.
Catherine hadn’t particularly impressed Irene, and now, seeing her dance with Oliver, Irene felt a pang of jealousy and a surge of dislike for her daughter-in-law. Only her son managed to somewhat calm her.
— Did you know he was coming? — she asked James.
— No, Mom, of course not. I knew it would upset you.
— Yes, it’s upsetting, — Irene nodded, kissing James on the cheek. — Thank you, son. Now go, go to your bride. It’s not right to leave her alone.
Ten years passed since that day. At first, Irene Victoria frequently visited her son and daughter-in-law, constantly criticizing Catherine. She didn’t hesitate to check the pots in the fridge or the dust under the bed and sofa, and if anything displeased her, she scolded not only Catherine but James as well.
— You’ve spoiled her too much, James. So many good girls out there, and you chose such a sloppy one. I opened the soup pot and nearly choked. I’ll stop by the bookstore today and get her a cookbook—there are plenty for multicookers or ovens. Why do you have all this fancy equipment if your wife does nothing?
Catherine cried from distress, while James chuckled at her and didn’t even try to comfort her. When she brought up wanting a child, he brushed it off:
— What, you want Mom to move in with us? She’d never trust you with her grandchild. You can barely keep up with me—how would you handle a kid?
— Her grandchild would be our son first, mine and yours, not hers! And you’re a grown man—do you need a wife or a nanny?
But James only waved her off. Catherine breathed easier only when Irene Victoria and her husband George moved abroad and never returned, only occasionally calling James. Over those years, Oliver James visited his son and daughter-in-law a few times. His visits were nothing like Irene’s: he never came empty-handed, acted like a courteous guest, and was polite and pleasant in conversation. He thanked Catherine for the food, complimenting her cooking, and she blushed with pleasure. Under his gaze, she felt warmth, but when he left, she sadly realized James was nothing like his father in character. Indeed, her husband grew more distant each year. Catherine long suspected he was cheating, but whenever she searched for proof, she found nothing but her own suspicions.
— Catherine, stop it, — James would say. — You know I work for a company where business trips are routine. You’re just a shop clerk, but my job is far more complex.
— James, — Catherine sighed, — we live like roommates. I don’t understand why you need me.
— You’re my wife, and I love you! — James replied indifferently, not looking up from his computer.
— That’s not true! — Catherine’s lips trembled. — I feel you’re deceiving me. I’m sure you have another woman, maybe more than one!
— Catherine, please, stop this! Don’t invent things. Tell me, how are you feeling today?
Catherine didn’t answer and went to her room, lying on the couch. Her back ached terribly, strained from lifting heavy boxes of goods at work and rushing to stock shelves. The small shop where she worked relied on her and an elderly coworker to handle everything.
Now, Catherine lay facing the wall, hoping James would come, hug her, comfort her, but the keyboard’s nervous tapping continued, and she had no choice but to lie there, tears streaming. She fell asleep like that, and by morning, she was certain she’d file for divorce. James was still asleep when she left for work, glancing at him from the bedroom doorway, unaware it was the last time she’d see him.
Around noon, an older woman entered the shop.
— What can I offer you? — Catherine asked with a smile, but the woman only glared at her.
— Are you James’s wife?
— Yes, my husband’s name is James, — Catherine replied, wary.
The woman confirmed his last name, and Catherine nodded again.
— I’m Valerie Patricia, and here’s what I need to tell you, Catherine… — the woman began after a pause. — Your James has been living with my daughter, Sarah, for three years. They have a son, Timothy, and another child on the way. Sarah’s four months pregnant.
Catherine sank onto a chair, folding her hands in her lap. The woman seemed ready for a fight, but seeing Catherine’s silent grief, she suddenly softened.
— I don’t like him, this son-in-law of mine, — she continued. — But understand, you two just live together, no kids, and my grandchildren need a father. You’re young, beautiful—you’ll find another man. Let Sarah have him; she needs him more. Don’t be angry that I’m telling you this, but he’s the kind who’d never confess. Sarah doesn’t want to see you, and you can understand her. She didn’t know he was married at first, so it’s not entirely her fault.
Valerie paused, watching Catherine, who sat with her face buried in her hands, trying to compose herself.
— He took her to the county hospital for a consultation today, — Valerie added, almost forgetting whom she was addressing. — Sarah wants to give birth there; the doctors here aren’t as good…
— Enough! I understand… — Catherine whispered, her voice breaking. — Please, go. Leave me alone…
The woman looked at her, seemed about to say more, but left. Catherine, on unsteady legs, went to the back room where her coworker, Lucy, was finishing her tea, and asked her to cover the shop.
— Why’re you so pale? — Lucy asked, alarmed.
— Later, later… — Catherine waved her off. As the door closed, she sank to the dirty floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
Calming down slightly, she decided to call James but realized she’d forgotten her phone at home, likely left on the hallway shelf. Barely making it to 4 p.m., she asked Lucy to cover for her if the boss showed up.
— I’m going home, Lucy. Can you manage?
— Go, go… You look awful. Don’t worry, I’ll cover.
Catherine returned home to find James still gone. Her phone was indeed on the shelf. She picked it up, surprised to see several missed calls from James and over twenty from an unknown number. She tried James, but he didn’t answer, so she called the unknown number.
— Hello. I have several missed calls from you.
— Hello, Catherine Elizabeth, — a male voice confirmed her identity, then gave his name, rank, and position. — What is your relationship to James Oliver?
— I’m his wife.
— I regret to inform you that around 2 p.m., a collision occurred on the highway. Your husband and his companion died at the scene. My condolences. You’ll need to come to the following address for identification…
Catherine felt the phone burning in her hand. She listened to the officer, nodding as if he could see her.
— Hello, can you hear me?
— Yes, — she replied, adding, — I’ll be there soon.
She didn’t notice herself sinking onto the ottoman in the hallway. When she tried to stand, her legs wouldn’t obey. She sat staring at the wall, then called James’s father and told him what happened.
— Catherine, what are you saying? — Oliver’s voice came through the phone.
— Where are you?
— I’m out of town, but I’m on my way.
— I’ll be at the hospital; they’re expecting me, — Catherine said.
She arrived before Oliver and immediately faced a distraught Valerie Patricia, who lunged at her with fists.
— It’s all your fault, you wretched witch! At least spare the child! I came to you in good faith, and you…
— Are you insane? — Catherine tried to defend herself. — What do I have to do with this?
— You cursed them, I know it!
Blows rained down on Catherine, and she began to collapse, but strong arms caught her. Nurses and a doctor quickly took Valerie to a nearby room and gave her a sedative, while Oliver held Catherine, whispering comforting words.
Catherine couldn’t imagine how she’d have coped without her father-in-law. Irene Victoria, whom Oliver informed of the tragedy, suffered a stroke and was hospitalized. George stayed with her. Oliver never left Catherine’s side, helping her with paperwork, paying for the funeral service, and ensuring everything was handled with dignity.
Catherine was devastated. She couldn’t accept what had happened, and the thought that she and James had parted on bad terms haunted her. He’d lied to her for years, cheated, lived a double life, and hidden his children. When she spoke of wanting a baby, he refused to listen, always asking her to wait. She couldn’t understand why he stayed with her if she meant so little to him. For ten long years, he lived, while she merely existed.
Why, why had James treated her this way? She’d loved him, but now these questions were pointless, and she had to accept that the past was unchangeable. Beyond emotional pain, Catherine felt physical agony, barely able to move her legs, which buckled from sharp back pain. Painkillers stopped working, and she hid her suffering only because Oliver’s steady hand was always there to lean on.
Returning home from the funeral, Catherine could no longer hold back and cried out from a new wave of pain.
— Catherine, what’s wrong? — Oliver asked, following her inside.
— It hurts, I can’t take it anymore. My back… I have no strength left.
— Let me take a look.
— No, — Catherine flushed. — Please, don’t…
But Oliver didn’t listen and led her to the bedroom. Gently but firmly, he said:
— Undress and turn around. I need to examine you.
— Oliver James…
— Catherine, I’m a neurologist, and a very good one, I assure you. Don’t be shy; I want to help.
— I can’t undress myself.
Oliver helped her, and when she was down to her undergarments, he carefully laid her on the couch. He quickly found her pain points, asked a few questions, and shook his head.
— Let’s get you dressed.
He helped her up, and for a moment, Catherine found herself in his arms. Feeling his touch on her skin, she looked into his eyes with fear, and he instantly understood.
— Catherine, you’re a wonderful, beautiful girl. I know you were unhappy with James. I noticed, I suspected, but you’ll find love again. I promise you that. — He dressed her and sat her on the couch. — Now tell me. I can see you’re carrying something heavy inside.
Catherine nodded and burst into tears, the tension of recent days easing as she poured out her pain and resentment.
— You see, James is gone, and I can’t forgive him. I can’t think of him calmly or understand him. I don’t know how to live with this. Oliver, you cheated on your wife too—tell me why. What do men lack?
— Catherine, — Oliver smiled sadly. — I understand your pain and resentment. I don’t know what drove James, but he was wrong, especially for hurting you both, and you most of all. I’m truly sorry, but I ask you to forgive him—it’ll be easier for you. Don’t hold onto bad memories; there were good times too. If he couldn’t just leave you, it means you mattered to him. He got tangled up. We don’t know Sarah—maybe he slipped once and got caught in her web, unable to break free. Don’t think you lost to her. You and she had equal claim to him. Yes, she bore his child and wanted another, but you were his wife, not her. Please, don’t dwell on this. James left as your husband, and he’ll answer for his mistakes elsewhere. Forgive him, just forgive and let go. He carries the heavier burden of guilt toward you. As for me, I can be honest: I never cheated on my wife. You mean Irene, don’t you? I’m sure she told you otherwise, but it’s not true. We met at the seaside—a typical summer romance. I was nineteen, eager to explore the world, while Irene had just divorced her first husband and came to escape the ordeal. We found each other. Yes, she was older and more experienced, but what did that matter? I fell in love and gave myself entirely to our relationship. We left the resort together and never parted, soon becoming husband and wife. Then James was born. Catherine, I loved my wife and son deeply, but she tormented me with her jealousy. She’d barge into my office, accuse me of nonexistent affairs, search my clothes, grab the phone when I was talking. No nurse could work with me because Irene made their lives miserable. I endured it, swore I loved only her, proved it however I could, but it was futile. She forced me to leave. When she started using our son to manipulate me, accusing me of abandoning them, I hadn’t abandoned anyone. Believe it or not, James and I met in secret—I’d visit him at school or meet him at cafés. Sometimes he’d tell his mother he was going to a friend’s but came to me, all under strict secrecy. Otherwise, Irene would never forgive him or me. Of course, I had relationships after her, even married once, but it didn’t work out, and we parted. That’s all.
— And now?
— Now it’s over. I’ve changed. I’ve lost my son, and James was my only child. But you say there’s a grandson, Timothy, out there. I’ll find him and try to be part of his life. He’s my blood, and maybe I can give him what I couldn’t give James.
— If you manage that… — Catherine said softly, — Timothy’s wife will be the happiest woman alive.
— You’ll be happy too, Catherine, but first, we need to take care of your health.
The next day, Oliver took Catherine to a clinic and entrusted her to his friend, Dr. Nicholas, asking him to treat her and ensure her recovery. He then visited Valerie Patricia and, after a long talk, got permission to see Timothy. Irene wanted nothing to do with her grandson and hadn’t forgiven Catherine for not remaining a widow and marrying some doctor.
Five years later, when Valerie passed away, Oliver took Timothy to live with him. The boy adored his grandfather and loved visiting “Aunt Catherine” and “Uncle Nicholas,” playing with their young son. Timothy didn’t fully understand how Catherine and Nicholas were related to him, but he knew they were kind and loved him as much as he loved them. Grandpa Oliver said they were all family, even if they didn’t live together, and what did that matter for those who loved each other?
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