"It just happened," quietly began the start of another one of his tales. "One thing leading to another, and I didn't think. That's the problem. I never think. If I had just considered, if I had just… taken a second. But I didn't. If only I did. I wished I did." 

Just sorrows, just regrets, lamenting whispers without any structure or sense. It wasn't much of a tale, honestly… and he wasn't much of a teller either, that single sentence alone took all the light from his eyes, all the life in his expression. Harry had regressed back to how I found him.

A dead man living.

"Last chance," I told him, extending a merciful exemption. "If you tell me, if you don't, I'll still save you regardless." 

But he didn't hear me. Or rather, he chose not to hear me. His face, that look, he didn't want mercy. 

"I had an affair with a coworker. For weeks, for months, I had sex with her behind my wife's back." 

Loud. That's the first thought that popped into my head after he said it. He spoke so loud. He has said many, many things to me ever since I got here. Some in whispers, others in stammers, occasionally he managed to speak normally, but I've never heard him be this loud before. I could almost still hear his words ringing in my ears.

How do I react? How was I supposed to respond to that? What words do I use? What emotion was I supposed to feel? Anger didn't feel right, disgust wasn't it either. Sympathy? Disapproval? What? What?

"Okay," I just nodded, I just did what I thought, what I felt was natural. "Go on."

Harry let out a long breath, out of relief, out of guilt, I couldn't hear. Only he knows exactly how he should feel.

"The first time it was… no, it wasn't a mistake. The first time it was… I made a poor choice. It was a work event, a celebration, there were drinks, she was flirting, I've been drinking, and I… I didn't discourage her. She was young, new, got transferred to our branch a couple of months back. That party, she had been drinking too, she was getting tipsy, we both were, then after it ended, she told me that she was going to go home, nothing happened yet until… until I didn't let her. I told my wife that I couldn't drive, that I was gonna sleep over at a friend's that night."

His hands flew to his face, dragging his haggard skin down with his fingers, and a burst of faint laughter sounded from behind his palms. 

"The most cliche fucking lie you can give, and it worked! I was surprised it even worked. But now I know it only worked because… because she trusted me. Well, of course, she did. Why wouldn't she? What reason did she have not to? She said 'I love you' before hanging up that night… and I don't… I don't remember if I ever said it back." 

What he was saying, what I was hearing. This wasn't anything I haven't heard before. Husbands cheating on wives, a secret office affair fabricated atop lust and impulse, a pile lies stacked on top of a mountain of even more.

You'd hear about them in passing, in the news, from people recounting their experience on internet forums… or you can experience it like how I did, binge-watching endless romcoms with your mother, seeing it all happen over some popcorn and in the comfort of your couch, scoffing internally while silently telling yourself that none of this melodramatic bullshit can ever happen in real life, or at least to anyone that you know or will know of.

Man, now I can only just wonder who's scoffing now… certainly ain't me. 

"The first time, when I woke up the next morning, I… I told myself never again, it would never happen again," Harry continued in a voice that was little more than a whisper. "I'd take it to my grave, nobody has to know. I can live my life as it was, and nobody could be the wiser. Maybe if I had stopped there… maybe I could have." 

"Why'd you continue on?" I asked, hearing myself after a long time of only hearing the hoarse, gravelly melody of regret, still unsure how to really feel about any of this. "Why didn't you stop there?" 

"Look, I love my wife, I love my family. Cross my heart, I swear I do," He said, moving his head in a frantic flurry of nods, as if desperately trying to assure himself of it too. "But there's no excuse. I just couldn't get enough of it. The feeling, the sensation. I liked it, I craved it. There's no helping it, even if I tried - and I tried!  I tried so hard to stop, but I couldn't because I'm just that pathetic. Visiting my daughter's cafe, helping my son lift weights, and there they were trusting me as I… as I continue to betray that same trust, yeah, that's me. Apparently, that's just the kind of man I am. A greedy, selfish man." 

Harry was fiddling with his ring finger again, twisting at it, tugging it hard, still nothing there, and yet he was trying so hard to wrench something away. 

"The lies just keep getting bigger, the excuses even flimsier, yet she kept buying it. So much over time, so many last-minute appointments, she just smiled and remarked that I'm working myself too hard. Imagine that, imagine having someone that loves you that much, someone who has that much faith in you - and I had it. All along, I had it, I had her. And now I lost her, because of my greed, my selfishness." 

"How did she find out?" I asked, and he threw his head upwards, a painful agony his only expression. He looked at me with trembling, narrow eyes, before dropping his head back down, his agony fading with a silent breath.

"She didn't," Harry simply said. "Hayley did," and when he saw my eyes slightly widen at that, he formed a smile that somehow mixed sorrow and pride into one malformed emotion. "Clever girl, always was. She could see what my wife refused to think. I didn't even suspect that she knew until I saw her there waiting for me as I came down into the hotel lobby. She took one look at me, the state I was in, and I remember that look, I will never forget it. I've never seen her look at me that way before, she didn't even say a word to me, and it didn't matter what I told her - she saw what she hoped she wouldn't see, and that was all she needed to know." 

Hayley. That springy, sly witch-boss of mine. A story such as this was never something I would ever think of her to be entangled in. You take one look at her, the way she carried herself, you'd never imagine it… and here I thought Ria was the better actor.

"By the time I got back home, the house was already empty. I tried calling, the entire evening, I called. The entire night, I drove, searching, I never did find them," He said, a trembling shimmer glistening in his heavy sullen eyes. "There was no note, no message - in a way, I guess that was the message. They were gone, they didn't choose to leave, I made them leave. In truth, I already lost them long ago, ever since that first night… I just didn't know it yet." 

For a while, Harry was quiet. He blinked, and something fell from his eyes. He blinked again, and nothing else fell. 

"I don't know what they know. I don't know what Hayley had said, I don't know what my wife knows, and I don't know what Nick was told. They won't see me, they won't talk to me. Nick is the only… my son he… he said he missed me…" 

He tried to breathe in, but he couldn't. He choked. 

"They're better off… so much better off… without me in their lives. I don't deserve them, I never did, and most importantly… they don't deserve me. I lost it, I lost that privilege! I lost all rights, I know! Even with Nick, every time he calls, every time… he tries to see me, I want to tell him to stop, I want to tell him no, but I can't! I just can't! Because I'm greedy! I'm selfish! I don't want to let them go! I want to be part of their lives still, and I want to see them grow… I want… I want my family again…"

Harry was hurting, physically, mentally… he was forcing himself, forcing the words, forcing his body… tears welled and fell from his eyes, and he looked revolted by it. 

As if he didn't deserve to cry, like he had no right to remorse.. No chance at redemption.  And maybe he didn't…

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