The Day My Husband Promised Another Woman Forever

Kyson was all too aware of the impact his betrayal had on me. He knew the sting of being let down by those you trust the most.

My dad claimed he loved me, but then he remarried and had another daughter, leaving me behind as if I didn't exist. My mom was no different, professing love while now only remembering she has a son. When I turned eighteen, their marriage completely unraveled. Suddenly, I was left to navigate life alone as their divorce and new marriages unfolded. Overnight, I lost my family, and it felt like I had been orphaned.

That same year, Kyson made a promise, simple yet kind. On my eighteenth birthday, I sat on the edge of the sports field with a small honey cake, candles flickering, as tears rolled down my face. I wished silently, and Kyson, just finishing his basketball game, walked by. He couldn’t bear to see me crying, so he said casually, "Kalani, I'll spend every birthday with you from now on."

Back then, he was full of youthful energy, a bright spot in my otherwise dim life, stopping more than once to look at me, like a sympathetic passerby rescuing a stray cat. He took me under his wing and stayed with me for a decade.

During those ten years, we graduated from college. I became an illustrator, while Kyson launched his own business. When his company became successful, he asked me to quit my job and stay at home. He said, "Kalani, I want us to get married. I want you to focus on our home."

With my strong desire for a family, much greater than most, I married Kyson. We bought a house in the suburbs, and I settled into the role of homemaker. More than one person warned me that success could change a man. But I always trusted Kyson. I believed he understood that he was my only connection, the sole anchor in my solitary world. If he ever betrayed me, it would destroy me.

A sudden heaviness settled over me as I watched Kyson's tired face in sleep, his long lashes casting shadows, his lips drawn tight as if something troubled him even in dreams. What was he mourning? Was it the girl from the emergency room, or was it missing my birthday? I assumed it was the former.