The Mistress - 10. Chapter 10: Will it all come to an end with them being happy?

Henry's heart raced as he entered Mateo's dimly lit apartment. The familiar scent of Mateo's favorite candles mingled with an undercurrent of tension, setting his nerves on edge. His eyes immediately caught sight of Mateo, hunched over on the floor, bruises marring his once flawless skin. Panic gripped Henry's chest as he rushed to his lover's side, dropping to his knees in front of him.

“What happened?” Henry's voice trembled with a mix of concern and anger as he gently lifted Mateo's chin, inspecting the bruises with growing dread.

Mateo's tear-filled eyes met Henry's, and he struggled to find the words to explain the nightmare that had unfolded. Henry's heart sank as Mateo whispered the name he least expected to hear: Mark, his own brother.

Fury boiled inside Henry, threatening to consume him as he struggled to comprehend the betrayal. How could his own flesh and blood commit such an atrocity? But before he could process the full extent of Mateo's words, another revelation struck him like a bolt of lightning.

“Your wife," Mateo whispered, his voice trembling with anguish. “She... she came here. She came here... to confront me.”

“How... how did she find you?” Henry's voice was barely a whisper, his world crumbling around him with each passing moment.

“She came with Mark and… and…” He couldn’t find words to tell Henry the cruel thing that Mark had done to him.

The words struck Henry like lightning, a searing bolt of betrayal that threatened to consume him whole. He rose to his feet, the room spinning around him as anger coursed through his veins like molten lava.

“Mark...” Henry spat the name like venom, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. “I won't let them get away with this. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again.”

With newfound determination, Henry turned to leave, his mind ablaze with thoughts of retribution. But before he could take a single step, Mateo's trembling voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

“She’s pregnant!”

Time seemed to stand still as the weight of Mateo's revelation settled over them like a suffocating blanket. Henry stood frozen, those words ringing in his head, reminding him of what was at play. His heart began racing and he felt like someone had poured venom in his veins. His breaths seized and his hands visibly shook.

Emma, pregnant… he thought as a cold shiver surrounded him. The thought was unimaginable, unfathomable. Yet, as Mateo stood before him, his eyes pleading for understanding, Henry felt the walls of denial crumbling around him.

“She's lying,” Henry protested weakly, his voice barely a whisper against the deafening roar of reality crashing down upon him. “She has to be.”

But Mateo's gaze remained unwavering, his lips trembling as he spoke the truth that Henry could no longer ignore.

“Why would she lie about something like this?” Mateo's words cut through the fog of Henry's denial, forcing him to confront the painful reality before him.

Desperation clawed at Henry's chest as he reached out to Mateo, his fingers trembling as they intertwined with Mateo's own.

“They're trying to hurt you,” he pleaded, his voice choked with emotion. “They're trying to tear us apart.”

“You can’t say that, Henry.” Mateo’s breaths came out harshly, shaking his head. “I don’t think she had any reason to lie. She was upset that she couldn’t even be happy even when she’s about to be a mother because I was tearing you apart and…”

“No…” He shook his head. “…I know exactly how that woman is.”

“Do I even have the right?” He asked. “You two are married and…” He paused and took a deep breath. “When last did you guys get intimate? When did you?”

“It’s been a while before…”

Suddenly, as the memories flooded back, Henry felt the weight of truth bearing down on him like a leaden weight, crushing him beneath its unbearable burden. The night Emma had seduced him, her words and touch like a siren's song, leading him into bed with her.

Curses fell from Henry's lips like rain as he stood there, his gaze fixed on the floor as if searching for answers in the depths of his own despair. And when he finally looked up, he saw Mateo standing before him, his eyes filled with vulnerability and uncertainty.

“Mateo...” Henry's voice trailed off.

But Mateo's words cut through the silence, a stark reminder of the harsh realities they faced.

“You have to go to her,” Mateo said softly, his voice filled with resignation. “It's the right thing to do.”

Henry's brow furrowed in confusion, his mind struggling to comprehend Mateo's words.

“Why?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

But Mateo's response was unwavering, a testament to the strength of his conviction.

“Maybe this is the universe's way of telling us that we weren't meant to be together,” he said softly, his words heavy with resignation.

Henry's tears fell like rain as Mateo's words pierced through the fragile veil of his denial, each syllable a painful reminder of the harsh realities they faced. How could Mateo ask him to abandon everything they had built together, to forsake their love in the name of duty and responsibility?

“How can you say that?” Henry's voice was choked with emotion, his heart heavy with the weight of Mateo's words. “After everything we've discussed... after everything we've been through...”

But Mateo's response was like a dagger to his heart, a painful reminder of the harsh realities they faced.

“This is different, Henry,” Mateo's voice was tinged with pain, his eyes filled with sorrow. “There's a child involved now, an innocent child who knows nothing, a child that deserves nothing but love.”

Tears blurred Henry's vision as he struggled to comprehend the magnitude of Mateo's request. What about their love, their newfound relationship that had blossomed in the wake of their shared pain and suffering? What would become of it now, in the face of this devastating revelation?

“What about us?” Henry's voice was barely a whisper, his heart breaking with each word he spoke. “What's going to happen to our relationship?”

Mateo's eyes fluttered shut, his face contorted in pain as he struggled to find the right words.

“Do you remember what I had asked you while we were at the beach?” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “About whether something that started as a lie could ever turn into something real?”

Henry nodded slowly, the memory of their conversation echoing in the recesses of his mind like a haunting refrain.

“Maybe I was dreaming too far,” Mateo continued, his voice barely a whisper. “Maybe it's time to face reality.”

Henry's heart shattered into a million pieces as Mateo's words washed over him like a tidal wave of despair. He shook his head, unable to accept the harsh truth that lay before him.

“No,” he whispered, his voice barely a whisper. “I can't do what you're asking of me, Mateo. I won't abandon you, not now, not ever.”

But Mateo's gaze was unwavering, his eyes filled with a quiet resolve that brooked no argument.

“You have to,” he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. “For the sake of the child, for the sake of your own conscience. You have to be a father now, Henry. It's the right thing to do.”

“Why can't we have both?” Henry's voice cracked with emotion, his eyes pleading with Mateo to reconsider. “Why can't I be a father and still love you?”

But Mateo's response was resolute, his tears mingling with Henry's as he shook his head in sorrow.

“No,” he whispered, his voice heavy with the weight of his convictions. “I can't let you be that kind of father. I can't let you repeat the mistakes of your own father.”

Henry's breath caught in his throat at Mateo's words, the painful memories of his own childhood flooding back with a vengeance. His father, a man consumed by his own demons, had inflicted untold pain and suffering upon Henry and his family, leaving behind a legacy of brokenness and despair.

“You can't just be there when it's convenient for you,” Mateo said softly, his words a dagger to Henry's heart. “That child needs you, Henry. It needs both of its parents.”

Henry's heart clenched at the thought of his child growing up without the love and support of both its parents, condemned to a life of loneliness and despair. But Mateo's words cut deeper still, a painful reminder of the path he had chosen, the consequences of his actions laid bare before him.

“Do you want your child to end up like me?” Mateo's voice was filled with anguish, his words cutting through the silence like a knife. “A mistress, with no respect, no dignity... It starts like this, Henry.”

“I don’t want that, Mateo…” Henry cried, shaking his head. “I can’t do what you’re asking me to do. I have always wanted to have a child but to raise that child with someone that I love. I can't do this without you, Mateo.”

“I'm tired, Henry,” he whispered, his voice filled with resignation. “I can't do this anymore...”

“I can't...” Henry's voice wavered with emotion, his heart aching at the sight of Mateo's trembling form, his spirit broken and battered by the trials of life. “I can't let you go, Mateo. Not after everything we've been through...”

But Mateo's strength waned with each passing moment, his resolve crumbling like sand beneath the weight of his despair. He sank to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he begged Henry to release him from the chains that bound him to a life of pain and suffering.

“Please...” Mateo's voice was barely a whisper, his hands clasped together in a silent prayer for salvation. “Let me go, Henry. I can't... I can't do this anymore...”

Henry's heart shattered as he gazed into Mateo's tear-stained eyes, the depth of his suffering etched into every line of his face. But even as he reached out to comfort him, to hold him close and chase away the shadows that haunted his dreams, Henry knew that the road ahead would be fraught with uncertainty and pain.

“We deserve to be happy, Mateo,” Henry's voice was filled with conviction as he cupped Mateo's cheeks in his hands, his gaze unwavering as he spoke of a future filled with hope and promise. “We can work through this together, I promise.”

But Mateo's strength faltered, his body slumping against the cold floor as he surrendered to the weight of his despair. "It's impossible..." he whispered, his voice barely audible above the sound of his own tears. "You'll never be a good father with me in the picture. Please, Henry... let me go..."

With a tender urgency, Henry pulled Mateo into his arms, holding him close as if to shield him from the storm of emotions that threatened to engulf them both. His touch was gentle yet firm, a silent promise of unwavering support and love.

Leaning in, Henry pressed his lips to Mateo's with a sweet, gentle passion, a tender caress that spoke volumes of the depth of his feelings. Their kiss was a balm to the wounds of their fractured souls, a fleeting moment of solace amidst the chaos that surrounded them.

As their lips parted, Henry cupped Mateo's tear-streaked face in his hands, his gaze filled with determination and resolve.

“Be patient with me,” he whispered, his voice tinged with emotion. “I'm going to make this right, Mateo. I promise.

I’ll be back,” he promised, pressing one last kiss to Mateo's forehead before rising to his feet.

With one final glance back at Mateo, tears glistening in his eyes, Henry turned and rushed out of the apartment, leaving Mateo behind in a whirlwind of emotions.

As the door closed behind him, Mateo sank to the floor, his heart heavy with the weight of their shared pain. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he watched Henry disappear from sight, leaving him behind in a world that suddenly felt empty and cold.

But even as Mateo trembled with weakness and despair, a glimmer of hope flickered in the depths of his soul. For he knew that Henry would not rest until he had set things right, until they could be together once more, united in love and defiance against the forces that sought to tear them apart.

And so, with tears still staining his cheeks, Mateo closed his eyes and whispered a silent prayer for strength and resilience. He wished for nothing but the best.

***

Emma lounged on the couch, the soft glow of the lamp casting a shadow across her face as she indulged in the crimson liquid swirling within her glass. Her lips curled into a smug smile as she savored the taste, relishing in the moment of quiet solitude. But her tranquility was shattered by the sound of Henry's voice slicing through the air like a knife.

“Why are you drinking if you're truly pregnant?” Henry's voice was laced with accusation, his eyes ablaze with fury as he confronted his wife.

Emma's grin widened as she turned to face him, her gaze filled with malice.

“Ah, so the little whore told you, did he?” she taunted, her words dripping with venom as she moved closer to Henry, her movements predatory.

Henry's jaw clenched with anger as he watched Emma's smug demeanor, the rage bubbling beneath the surface threatening to boil over. He snatched the glass from her hand, his grip tight with fury as he hurled it to the floor, the shattering sound echoing through the room like a gunshot.

“Tell me the truth, Emma!” Henry's voice was a thunderous roar, his chest heaving with each breath as he demanded answers. “Are you really pregnant, or is this just another one of your games to trap me?”

Emma's laughter cut through the tension like a knife, the sound grating on Henry's nerves like sandpaper. With a flourish, she retrieved a piece of paper from her bag and thrust it into Henry's hands.

“Read it and weep, darling,” she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain as Henry's eyes scanned the ultrasound report in disbelief.

Emma's voice rang out like a dagger to his heart, her words dripping with contempt as she berated him for his perceived indifference.

“While you were busy chasing after a man,” she sneered, her voice dripping with malice, “I was the one carrying your child. And you don’t even care.”

Henry's heart ached with the weight of Emma's words, the guilt and remorse gnawing at him from within. But even as he stood there, grappling with the harsh reality of his situation, he knew that he could not turn away from the responsibilities that now lay before him.

With a heavy sigh, Henry turned to face Emma, his gaze filled with resignation. “I'll do what's right,” he said softly, his voice tinged with sorrow. “For the sake of our child.”

“That’s what I thought.” Emma said softly.

She turned and was about to leave when Henry gripped her arm and pulled her back.

“I'll take responsibility for the child," Henry said firmly, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. “But I won't raise it with you. I'll do it on my own.”

Emma recoiled as if struck, her eyes widening in disbelief as she stared at Henry as if he'd grown another head. Then, with a bitter laugh, she shook her head, her laughter ringing out like a taunting melody.

“You think you can just waltz in here and dictate terms to me?” Emma's voice was sharp, her tone dripping with disdain as she squared her shoulders, ready to do battle. “Over my dead body will I allow you to raise my child with that whore.”

Henry's patience wore thin as Emma's words cut deep, the wounds of their fractured marriage reopening with each cruel barb. But even as he fought to keep his composure, he knew that he could not let Emma's manipulations dictate his future.

“What do you want, Emma?” Henry's voice was a low growl, his eyes boring into hers with a fierce intensity. “What's your endgame here?”

Emma's expression softened for a moment, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability flickering in her eyes before it was replaced with a steely resolve.

“All I want is my family to be complete,” she said softly, her voice tinged with longing. “Just like I've always wanted.”

Henry's brow furrowed in disbelief, his mind reeling at the sudden shift in Emma's desires.

“And what about all those years you spent climbing the corporate ladder?” he argued, his voice tinged with bitterness. “What happened to being a high-class businesswoman with no time for children?”

But Emma's laughter cut through his protests like a knife, her words a cruel reminder of the power she wielded over him.

“Money can't buy happiness, Henry,” she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. “But it can buy me whatever I want. And right now, what I want is my family.”

Henry shook his head in disbelief, incredulous at Emma's sudden change of heart. “You're just saying that now because you want money,” he accused, his voice filled with anger. “Well, you can have it. I'll give you whatever you want, Emma. But I won't stay in a loveless marriage. I won't sacrifice my happiness for your sake. Just leave me and my child alone.”

Emma wore an evil grin, getting closer to Henry.

“I know you care so much about this child and that’s why you’re here.” She laughed. “Otherwise, you would have stayed with that whore and never returned. Either we remain a family, or that child will never see the light of day. And I mean it.”

Henry's breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening with panic as he realized the gravity of Emma's threat. He knew her well enough to understand that she was capable of anything, that she would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.

“You wouldn't dare...” Henry's voice was barely a whisper, his words choked with fear.

But Emma's raised eyebrow spoke volumes, a silent confirmation of the depths of her resolve.

“You know me, Henry,” she said softly, her voice devoid of emotion. “You know what I'm capable of. And if it means that I have to sacrifice my own child to ensure that you don't find happiness with that whore, then so be it.”

Henry felt the color drain from his face as Emma's words sank in, the reality of the situation crashing down upon him like a tidal wave. He was paralyzed with fear, his mind racing as he struggled to comprehend the enormity of Emma's ultimatum.

“But it's your child too,” Henry pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice. “You can't... you wouldn't...”

But Emma's gaze remained steely, her resolve unyielding as she spoke of sacrifices made in the name of love and desperation.

“Yes, it's my child too,” she conceded. “But I won't bring a child into this world to suffer because of you and your whore. I won't allow it.”

“So, you’d sacrifice…”

“Yes!” She yelled, breathing harshly. “You know what you have to do, Henry,” she said softly, her voice cold and final. “The choice is yours.”

“You're being so unfair, Emma,” he murmured, his voice filled with frustration and anguish.

But Emma's expression remained unchanged, her gaze unwavering as she met his eyes with a steely resolve.

“I don't care if you think I'm unfair,” she replied, her voice firm with determination. “I'm a woman, Henry, and I'll do anything to protect my home. If that makes me selfish, then so be it. I love you, and I won't let you go just like that.”

Henry's heart ached at Emma's words, the weight of her love and desperation bearing down upon him like a leaden weight. He knew the sacrifices she had made, the lengths she would go to in order to hold onto what she believed was rightfully hers.

But even as he struggled to comprehend the depth of Emma's feelings, Henry knew that he could not sacrifice his own happiness for the sake of appeasing her.

“I've worked so hard to accept who I am,” he whispered, tears welling in his eyes. “I can't sacrifice that.”

Emma's own tears glistened in the dim light of the room, her voice trembling with emotion as she pleaded with him to stay.

“Please, Henry,” she begged, her words a desperate plea for salvation. “Don't leave me...”

But Henry knew the consequences of his actions, the blame that would be heaped upon him for daring to defy Emma's will. Without a word, he nodded in silent resignation, turning away from Emma and rushing out of the house, leaving her behind in a whirlwind of emotions.

As the door slammed shut behind him, Emma sank to her knees, her body trembling with the weight of her despair. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clutched at her chest, the pain of loss and betrayal engulfing her like a tidal wave.

But even as Emma struggled to catch her breath, she knew that she would not let Henry go without a fight. For better or for worse, she would do whatever it took to protect her home, her family, and her heart. And as she collapsed onto the floor, her tears mingling with the shards of broken dreams scattered around her, Emma knew that the battle for love and redemption had only just begun.

***

As Henry stepped into Mateo's apartment, a sense of unease washed over him like a tidal wave. The air felt heavy with absence, a palpable emptiness that hung in the atmosphere despite the familiar surroundings. A chill ran down his spine as he took in the scene before him, a foreboding sense of dread gnawing at his insides.

“Mat…“ Henry’s voice caught in his throat as he called out Mateo's name, the sound echoing through the empty space like a desperate plea. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a drumming rhythm of fear and uncertainty.

Racing up the stairs, Henry's footsteps echoed in the silence as he searched frantically for any sign of Mateo's presence.

“Mateo!” he called out again, his voice tinged with desperation as he scanned the room for any clue as to his lover's whereabouts.

But the room remained eerily silent, devoid of any response to Henry's frantic calls. He checked the wardrobe, the bed, every corner of the room, but there was no trace of Mateo to be found.

A sinking feeling gnawed at Henry's gut as he returned to the living room, his eyes scanning the room for any clue that might shed light on Mateo's whereabouts. And then, he saw it: a small box sitting innocuously on the table, as if waiting for him.

Henry's hands shook as he reached for the box, his fingers trembling as he lifted the lid. Inside, he found a piece of paper, a phone, and a set of keys. His heart clenched with fear as he unfolded the piece of paper, his eyes scanning the words written upon it with growing dread.

The words blurred before his eyes as Henry's worst fears were realized. Mateo was gone, leaving behind only a cryptic message that sent a chill down Henry's spine.

Tears stung at Henry's eyes as he read the words, each syllable like a dagger to his heart.

‘Dear Henry,’ the words whispered from the page, their meaning resonating deep within Henry's soul. ‘By the time you will find this, I'll be gone far away.’

Henry's hands trembled as he traced the lines of Mateo's handwriting, his heart aching with the knowledge that Mateo had left without a word, without a chance to say goodbye.

‘I am sorry that I had to leave like this without telling you,’ Mateo's words continued, their sorrow echoing through the empty silence of the room. ‘Because I knew you weren't gonna let me go. You were just gonna make it harder for me, more than it already is.

But I have already caused you so much damage, and it's time I went away. I know it will hurt... God, it hurts me to write this, but it's the right thing to do.’

Tears streamed down Henry's cheeks as he absorbed the weight of Mateo's words, the agony of their parting like a wound that refused to heal.

‘That child deserves all the love you can give it,’ Mateo's words echoed in the emptiness of the room, their significance settling over Henry like a heavy blanket. ‘And I know you're gonna be one hell of a great dad. It will only happen if I am not there.’

With a heavy heart, Henry sank to his knees, the weight of his loss bearing down upon him like a crushing weight. He clutched the piece of paper tightly in his hand, his fingers trembling with grief as he tried to make sense of the emptiness that now surrounded him.

*

The rhythmic clack of the train tracks echoed through the carriage as Mateo sat with his head leaned against the window, his tear-stained eyes gazing out at the passing scenery.

‘Thank you so much for the love that you've shown me these past few days,’ Mateo's voice echoed. ‘I am so grateful. I never thought that I'd experience this kind of love from you.’

Mateo's mind wandered back to the beginning of their relationship, to the days when he had been nothing more than Henry's mistress, a secret hidden away in the shadows. But despite the secrecy and the shame, Mateo had found solace in Henry's arms, in the love and patience that he had shown him.

‘I never thought I'd experience love from you,’ Mateo's voice wavered with emotion as he reflected on the journey they had shared together. ‘But in the end, it was you who gave me love like I'd never experienced before.

Perhaps our relationship was meant to be a short thing. But even as we part ways, know that I love you so much, Henry. And I know you'll be a good dad.

Don't look for me because you won't find me,’ Mateo's voice trembled with sorrow as he signed off the letter with a final declaration of love. ‘I love, love you so much.’

Henry's sobs echoed through the empty apartment, each tear a testament to the depth of his pain as he clutched the letter in his trembling hands. His shoulders shook with the weight of his grief, his heart torn asunder by the absence of the man he loved more than life itself.

Aboard the speeding train, Mateo wept uncontrollably, his tears mingling with the rhythmic clack of the tracks beneath him. Each sob wracked his body with agony, the ache of separation tearing at his soul like a relentless storm.

Two different souls in two different places, bound together by the invisible thread of love that tethered them to one another. Despite the physical distance that now separated them, Henry and Mateo shared the same emptiness in their hearts, the same ache of longing that threatened to consume them whole.

As the haunting melody of “Maybe Next Time” by Jamie Miller filled the air, Henry and Mateo wept in unison, their tears mingling with the bittersweet strains of the song. It was a symphony of sorrow, a lament for love lost and dreams shattered, a poignant reminder of the fragility of the human heart.

Was this truly the end for them? Only time would tell. But in that moment, as they wept in solitude, their hearts heavy with grief, Henry and Mateo clung to the fragile hope that someday, somehow, they would find their way back to each other.

But for now, as tears streamed down their cheeks and the music played on, Henry and Mateo were left to wonder if they would ever have the chance to say “maybe next time.”

***

A mistress with stolen moments cannot find love. From the very beginning, that relationship is doomed to fail. In the shadowed corners of stolen moments, mistresses may find fleeting passion, but never true love or lasting happiness. For in the aftermath of deceit lies a barren wasteland of broken promises and shattered dreams, where the consequences of betrayal echo endlessly, leaving behind only scars of regret and a heart heavy with the weight of what could have been.

I should have known that, but perhaps this is how my life was supposed to go. In the end, I remained with nothing not knowing how my life is gonna go from now on. Perhaps, I will find happiness or maybe I am doomed because of my sins.

We may meet one day, but for now, thanks for reading my story.

*

The end…