I come home at night and find Emma in the kitchen, setting the table for dinner. I grab her hand, ask her to pause and sit with me for a minute because I have to tell her something crucial: I want to file for divorce. She hesitates, then asks why. I cant answer, and my silence drives her into a frenzyshe stops preparing the meal, starts shouting incoherently, pauses, then shouts again She cries through the night. I understand her pain, but I cant offer comfortIve fallen out of love with my wife and fallen for another woman.
Feeling guilty, I hand her a settlement agreement, promising to leave her the flat and the car, but she tears the paper into pieces and flings the fragments out the window, then starts sobbing again. I feel nothing but a pang of conscienceafter ten years together, she feels like a stranger.
I mourn the years weve spent living together and Im desperate to cut these ties and chase a new, true love. The next morning I find a note on the nightstand outlining her conditions for the divorce: she asks me to postpone the filing for a month and, during that time, keep up the façade of a happy family because our son, Oliver, has upcoming exams. She also reminds me that on our wedding day I carried her into the flat in my arms, and now she wants me to carry her out of the bedroom each morning for the whole month.
Since Ive been with the other woman, Emma and I have had almost no physical contactshared breakfasts, shared dinners, and sleeping at opposite ends of the bed. So when I lift her for the first time after a long break, I feel a strange emotional turmoil Olivers applause snaps me back to realityEmmas face lights up with a happy smile, yet I feel an inexplicable ache. The bedroom is ten metres from the dining room, and as I carry her, she closes her eyes and whispers barely audible, Dont tell Oliver about the divorce until the deadline.
On the second day, playing the role of a content, loving husband comes a little easier. Emma rests her head on my shoulder, and I realise how long Ive ignored the traits I once adored, how theyve changed since ten years ago By the fourth day, holding Emma, I cant help but think of the decade shes given me On the fifth day, a pang of vulnerability hits me as she clings to my chest, trusting me with her fragile body. Each day, carrying her out of the bedroom becomes less burdensome.
One morning I find Emma staring at her wardrobe; the whole collection now looks enormous on her shrunken frame. I finally notice how thin and frail she has become. Thats why each day the load feels lighter My sudden insight hits like a blow to the solar plexus. Instinctively, I run my hand through her hair. Emma calls Oliver over and embraces us both tightly. Tears rise in my throat, but I turn awayI cant, and wont, change my decision. I lift her again and walk her out of the bedroom. She wraps her arms around my neck, and I pull her close, just as on the first day of our marriage.
In the final days of the agreed period, confusion churns inside me. Something has shifted, something I cant name I go to the other woman and tell her I wont go through with the divorce. On the way home I mull over how the monotony of family life isnt caused by love fading, but by people forgetting each others importance. I detour to a florist, pick a bouquet, and attach a card that reads, Ill carry you in my arms until your last day. My heart pounds as I step inside the flat. I wander through the rooms and find Emma in the bedroomshes dead.
For months, while Ive been lost in a cloud of infatuation, Emma has silently battled a serious illness. Knowing she has little time left, she summons the last of her strength to spare Oliver the stress and protect my image as a good father and loving husband.
