The Mistress

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...