When I Lost You

Everything was perfect. David was the love of my life. When he asked me to marry him, it was a no doubt about it, yes. I really did think he was the one. I thought we would grow old together, and have children. I found out he wasn't who I thought he was when he died in a plane crash, six months ago.



"Why do you have to go?" I asked, him as he was packing his stuff, pulling him into an embrace.



He was going away to London for a work, for three days. I had never been without him, i'd miss him.



"I told you, honey. I have to work. So we can keep this little fella alive." he said kissing my pregnant stomach.



I smiled, and gave him a kiss. "You will call me, though?" I asked, looking into his eyes.



"Yes, of course. Everyday." he said, picking up his suitcase.



"Okay." I said, giving up. "Do you need a hand with your things?"



"Nope. I think I'm strong enough." he said, grinning.



That was the last converation I had with him. He never called me. The last thing he said was "I'll miss you."



The thing he is, he didn't. It wasn't work. It was with a friend. A close friend. A woman. Her name was Rosalie, and that broke our marriage, now, i'm a widow with a gay best friend.



When I was with David, I used to write all the time. I had done it since the day I turned thirteen, carried it on in high schoool and college and got a job in a newspaper. From there on, I had wrote five books that had been published and yes, they were successful. I was happy then, my writing was good. Now? Not the same. I don't have any inspiration, except myself.



I wouldn't dare say I'm glad he's dead, because of what he did. I did still love him when I got the news.



"Are you Mrs Mason?" a police officer asked me, while I was sitting in the cafe.



"Yes, can I help you?" I asked, putting down my coffee.



She sat down with a scared expression on her face. "You asked us to investigate your husbands death - where he was staying?"



"Yeah, I did. What did you find out?" I asked, sipping black coffee.



"The person - or rather woman he was staying with..was Miss Rosalie Jayne. At her apartment in London. She said, she'd been with him for over six months or so."



It took me a while to take it in.



"WHAT?! No, he would never cheat on me!" I shouted. People around the cafe started staring. "No.." I whispered. "She told you this?"



"Yes, I'm sorry. We tracked down his calls from his mobile aswell, there were to her."



"Can I get hold of her?" I appeared calm, but I was angry.



"She's right over on that table." the police officer said, walking away.



An awkward looking girl in her twenties, long wavy hair, blond obviously. Her blue eyes, tears filling up when she saw me. She stood up and timidly sat at my table.



I gritted my teeth and stared at her taking in her features. She was pretty. Prettier than me. Why would he want me, when he could have her? Tears stupidly fell down my cheeks.



"I'm sorry." she choked.



I just sat there, looking at her face. She really was sorry, I could tell just by looking in her eyes.



"It was..never meant to happen. He was on a business trip in November and..I didn't know he had a wife until now. I didn't know that you were.." she said, almost crying, looking at my stomach. "If I knew, I would..never have done it."



"So when he was here, where did you think he was?"



"He said someone died, and he wanted to stay here for a while." she said, fiddling with her blue sleeve.



I looked at her in horror. He had lied to both of us. He never loved me.



"I'm sorry." I blurted out. What was I doing? I didn't feel angry.



I slumped in my seat and got hold of her hands. Still, no idea what I was doing.



"He lied to both of us. Don't be sorry. We did nothing wrong. It was him. Always."



Tears fell down both of our faces.



That was the day that I found out the truth about my husband, the day I finally realized I was alone..with a baby. With no family, whatsoever.