Liora left without even taking the couch with her. Only the framed picture from our Barcelona honeymoon, her clothes, and her plants. The fact that she didn’t want to remember anything until she looked stunning in the photo was what hurt the most.
I had recently lost my job as a tech worker. The typical corporate nonsense: the company downsized. I assured her we would be fine even though things will be tight for a spell. What exactly did she say? “This is not the kind of life I signed up for.” Then, suddenly, a week later, she was gone.
I tried to learn how to code, something I had never had time for before, for months while subsisting on frozen burritos and YouTube tutorials. Originally intended to be a joke, I created this stupid little budgeting software that tracked emotional expenditure. But it caught on somehow.
Sixteen months later, I’m signing a contract with a fintech business that I can’t even pronounce. In a month, the app makes more money than I did in a year. I have a crew, a good condo with views, and an office space. Half the time, it still doesn’t feel real.
Then, unexpectedly, last week, Liora texted me. Simply say: “Hey. You have been on my mind. Don’t apologize. No justification. She abandoned me when I was at my lowest, but that doesn’t matter.
Yes, I agreed, and we got together for coffee. I suppose it’s curiosity. Or perhaps I still harbored a desire to see her face.
When we were happy, she arrived wearing the same green coat. spoke as if nothing had occurred. As if she hadn’t torn my life in two, she smiled.
Then she said something that stopped me in my tracks.
She twirled a piece of her hair and remarked, “So, now that everything is going so nicely for you… Perhaps we should try again?
My coffee nearly didn’t go as planned. Do it again? Did she believe she could simply waltz back into my life whenever it was convenient for her, like a revolving door? It was breathtakingly audacious.
I forced a feeble laugh. “Try once more? You abandoned me, Liora. When I most needed you, you abandoned me.
She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. “You know, I was stressed. Both of us were under a lot of stress.
“Pressure?” I sneered. “I was laid off! I feared what lay ahead for us. And you decided to simply leave?
Her hand hovered over mine as she reached across the table. Out of instinct, I drew away. I admit that I wasn’t fair. However, I’ve evolved. I have matured.
“Oh, really?” I arched an eyebrow. “Developed into a person who wants to be present only when the bank account is full?”
She flushed. “That is unfair.”
“Isn’t it?” I retorted. “Because I think it’s pretty damn fair.” Liora, you made your decision. You now have to deal with it.
From there, the conversation took a turn for the worst. By bringing up the “good times,” the trips, and the early years of our relationship, she attempted to guilt-trip me. However, all I could recall was the icy stare in her eyes the day she left and the eerie quiet in our flat following her departure.
I felt both angry and oddly vindicated when I left that coffee gathering. In spite of her, I had created something truly remarkable without her. I didn’t need her back then, and I don’t need her now either.
My phone buzzed a few days later while I was in the office reviewing some marketing tactics with my team. The message came from an unidentified number.
It’s Clara, Liora’s sister. Can we have a conversation?
After a little pause, I consented. Clara was a little concerned when we met for lunch.
While fumbling with her napkin, she remarked, “Liora has been telling everyone you’re being unreasonable.” “You’re clinging to the past.”
“What are your thoughts, Clara?” I looked her in the eye and asked.
She let out a sigh. “Look, I am aware that Liora erred. An enormous one. But she’s having a lot of trouble. Since you two parted ways, she hasn’t been doing well.
Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on made me ache. pity? Feeling guilty? It vanished rapidly. Clara, that isn’t my issue. She prepared her bed.
“Perhaps,” Clara said. She is still family, though. Don’t we all make mistakes?
I remembered what she said. Family. Despite everything, Liora continued to provide a link to my past, to a simpler, happier time.
I reflected on the years Liora had been in my life and on Clara’s anxious look. Then I thought of something.
Regaining Liora was not the twist. Forgiveness wasn’t the point—not just yet. It has to do with something very different.
I returned Clara’s call. “Is Liora employed?” I inquired.
Clara stated, “She has been writing for a living.” “Just barely scraping by.”
I said, “Tell her I have a proposal for her.”
Liora was seated in my office a few days later, looking just as uneasy as I did.
“I’m not here to talk about us,” I stated bluntly. “However, I’ve offered you a job.”
Her gaze expanded. “A job?”
“Yes,” I said. “Some of our content needs to be handled by someone. Someone has a strong foundation in writing.
She appeared in disbelief. “What makes you want to hire me?”
“Because you’re a gifted writer,” I answered, looking her in the eye. And I know you are in spite of everything that transpired between us.
Giving her another shot at our relationship wasn’t the point. Basically, it was about giving her another chance. an opportunity to start over in terms of her life, profession, and self-esteem. Not as some charity case ex-wife, but on her own terms.
In the end, Liora accepted the position. Navigating the work relationship while attempting to disregard the personal history was first awkward. But we gradually settled into a rhythm. I like her work attitude and thought she did a wonderful job.
We even began to speak politely and occasionally even joke about the good old days. Not romantically, but in a way that recognized the important role we had played in one other’s lives.
We didn’t fall in love again at the satisfying ending. Finding a different kind of relationship—one built on mutual respect and cooperative professional efforts—was the goal. It was about me learning that nobody, least of all myself, benefited from me harboring animosity. And perhaps, just possibly, it was about Liora beginning to see the repercussions of her behavior—not because I made her, but rather because she had to earn her way back into my life in a very surprising way.
The lesson here is that sometimes choosing to move on in a way that permits everyone to recover and develop instead of forgetting what happened is what it means to be forgiven. Helping someone rebuild their life—not out of weakness, but out of strength—can occasionally be the most fulfilling kind of retaliation.
Please feel free to share this tale if it resonates with you or if you have ever faced with betrayal and unexpected second chances. And please like it if you liked it. Your assistance is greatly appreciated.
