The day of the funeral was like a nightmare.
When my husband, Marek, died, the world stopped for me. Although our marriage had its ups and downs, I never doubted that he was my rock. It was an emergency – my heart couldn't take it. No goodbyes, no last words. Just the silence that fell over our house.
The day of the funeral was like a nightmare. The crowds, the crying, the condolences – I could barely register it all. I stood by the coffin, staring at the photo of Mark, trying to comprehend that I would never see him again. Then I noticed her.
She stood to the side, a bit in the shadows, wearing a black dress, as if she wanted no one to notice her. A good dozen or so years younger than me, with impeccable make-up and her hair in a perfect bun. Her face expressed more sadness than I could have imagined. I wondered who she was. Neighbor? Work colleague?
After the ceremony was over, she approached me. She held out a trembling hand, tears in her eyes.
– „I'm so sorry. Marek was… a wonderful man.”
Her voice was quiet, almost breaking. I looked at her, confused.
– „Thank you. Who are you?”
A moment of silence. Then she replied:
– „My name is Justyna. I've been with Marek for the past five years. We loved each other.”
I felt my legs give out from under me. Did I hear correctly? For five years? My Marek? It couldn't be true. Questions started popping up in my head, but no words could come out of my mouth. Justyna continued, as if she had to get everything out.
– „I didn't want this to happen. Marek always said he wouldn't leave you, but it was me he loved. We met in secret because… because he didn't want to hurt you.”
The words sounded like blows. How could I not notice anything? How could I live with a man who led a double life? I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I tried to stay calm.
– „Why are you telling me this? Why?– I asked with difficulty.
Justyna looked at me with pain.
– „Because I had to. Marek was everything to me. I wanted you to know.”
I don't remember how that conversation ended. I went home to an empty apartment and sat in his favorite armchair. I thought about our marriage all night long – about the times I considered happy, about his business trips, about the phone calls he'd suddenly cut off, saying he'd call back later. Everything started to make sense, and at the same time it was destroying my world.
Months passed, but the pain didn't go away. Justyna wrote me a letter in which she told me about their relationship. She wanted me to know that Marek was happy, but also full of guilt. Reading those words, I felt a mixture of anger and regret. I wanted to hate him, but I couldn't. After all, we spent over 20 years together.
Today I'm learning to live with this truth. I've moved away from the idea that our marriage was perfect, but I try to remember the good times. Marek was important to me, but now I know that I wasn't his whole world. It hurts, but I won't let this betrayal destroy the memory of our life together.
Because life is not just about love, but also forgiveness – even if it can never be said out loud.
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