“I’ll love you forever.” That’s what Hannah told me on our wedding night. Exhausted and sweaty, I played with her hair. Staring into her deep blue eyes I could see that she was telling the truth.
“Forever?” I asked, and she nodded. “Forever is a long time, you know.”
“I know. And that’s how long I’ll love you.”
I pulled her close to me and kissed her. Embracing her, I whispered, “I’ll love you forever, too.”
But forever is a long time. People change, they grow apart. It’s natural. The first few years of our marriage were wonderful. We went on trips, we ate new foods, we tried new things, we just enjoyed each other’s company. It was magical. And then, it ended.
I’m not sure when it stopped being magical. We both fell into a routine and routines have a way of grinding you down. Our jobs got busier. I worked for a large architecture firm. Hannah worked as an archivist at a university library. One week I found myself alone because Hannah had gone to a convention, and the next week I had to go out of town for business. We just drifted apart.
“I’ll love you forever,” she would tell me when we both left for work in the morning. But it didn’t sound magical anymore, it sounded mundane, like just another part of the routine.
“Me too,” I’d say. I would smile and she would stare at me with those big blue eyes. I thought those eyes might be able to see through my disguise, that she could tell I was unhappy. But I never brought it up. Even though the magic was gone, I was comfortable.
Then I met Christine.
When we first met, she was just Christine from the third floor and I was Mark from the sixth. Our boss had asked us to collaborate on some designs for a client who wanted us to pay extra attention to cost. After the project was over, I found myself down in the third floor lounge from time to time. When Christine happened to be there too, we would have lunch together. I liked talking with her and I thought that she liked talking with me. She laughed at all my jokes.
It was a bad idea to ask for her phone number. I excused myself by saying it was for some work-related thing. At the time, it was. However, work-related things turned into non-work-related things. The first time we kissed was at the office, after work. We both confessed that we had feelings for each other. It just sort of happened.
“I’ll love you forever,” Hannah said that night as we got into bed.
“Me too,” I said back. Hannah rolled over and went to sleep. I took my phone off the nightstand and texted Christine.
“When are you going to tell her?” Christine asked as we lay in bed together. Her apartment wasn’t far from work and we’d made a habit of meeting up there for our afternoon trysts.
“Maybe I won’t.”
“You won’t?”
“Maybe.”
“No, Mark. You have to tell her. I don’t want to stay like this. I don’t want to be your secret. You have to tell her.”
I imagined it sometimes, looking into Hannah’s eyes and telling her the truth. I didn’t love her anymore. We were over. I knew what she would say.
When I finally told her, she did say it.
“I’ll love you forever.” It wasn’t a declaration, it was a plea, or maybe a lament. She didn’t fight me, she didn’t scream. Throughout the whole conversation, I don’t think we ever even raised our voices. That’s all she said, “I’ll love you forever.” She got into her car and she drove away. That was that. That’s how it all ended.
Christine moved in a few weeks later. We were happy enough, but the guilt still lingered. Even if I didn’t love her anymore, I hurt Hannah. I went ahead with the divorce proceedings. My lawyer warned me it could get very nasty, especially since I’d admitted to cheating. In the end, Hannah didn’t ask for anything though. My lawyer received a short letter from her. Apparently, she hadn’t sought any legal counsel. The letter read, “Keep it all. I’ll love you forever.”
That was the first of many letters. In the following weeks, almost every day I got a letter in the mail. They weren’t in Hannah’s normal handwriting but in a rushed, slanted script. “I’ll love you forever.”
Then came the texts. Almost every night, as I was lying in bed, my phone would start to buzz. Hundreds of texts, always the same thing. “I’ll love you forever.” I kept it hidden from Christine, but she found out soon enough.
On the way home from work one day, she was quiet in the car.
“Is everything alright?”
“I found something today.”
“Found what?”
“This.” She pulled a small piece of paper out of her pocket. Before she finished unfolding it, I knew what it was going to say. Written in bright red marker was, “I’ll love him forever.”
“Where did you find it?”
“It was folded up and tucked into my desk drawer.”
Christine didn’t stick around after that. I don’t blame her, I don’t think I would have in that situation either. I knew Hannah and that she was a little obsessive, having a rough time dealing with all this. She would never hurt anyone. But to Christine, she was my crazy ex-wife and she was the one who stole me away from her. So, she packed her things and I was alone again.
That first night alone was the night I got my first phone call. I woke up to the sound of my phone buzzing. I had blocked Hannah’s number because of all the texts. My eyes, blurry from sleep, refocused and I was able to make out the time. It was nearly three in the morning. My phone continued to buzz. The call was from an unknown number. Groggily, I picked it up and slid my finger across the screen to answer it.
“Hello?”
“I’ll love you forever,” Hannah said.
My blood boiled and I began to shout. “Goddammit Hannah! It’s over! You have to stop this! This is insane! I’m sorry! Okay? Is that what you want? I’m fucking sorry. I fucked up. Just please, can we move on with our lives? Can we stop this? Whatever this is?”
“I’ll love you forever.” Click. She hung up.
The next day I started proceedings to get a restraining order. Over the next few weeks, the calls kept coming. Hannah never showed up for the restraining order hearing. After presenting my mountain of evidence, and without Hannah there to argue her side, I was granted the restraining order. My lawyer told me if the calls and texts continued, I would have a case for harassment.
The calls kept coming. So did the texts and the letters. Almost every day. At first, I refused to answer the calls. Finally, I gave in. I apologized, I begged, I pleaded for her to stop calling me, to just let me go. But it was always the same. She never said anything else. “I’ll love you forever.” I thought about pursuing harassment charges, but I didn’t want to spend more time in court, and even more money on lawyer’s fees.
Out of desperation, I called my former mother-in-law. Last I had heard, Hananh was staying with her. She certainly wasn’t happy to hear from me.
“How dare you call me, after everything you’ve done.” She was in tears.
“I know. I know. I deserve it. I deserve all of it. But please, this has to stop. You have to make her stop.”
Hannah’s mother was silent. She wasn’t even crying anymore. “What do you mean make her stop?”
“Do you not know? Do you not see her constantly writing letters and sending texts? She is torturing me.”
There was another long pause. “Mark, Hannah is dead. She died shortly after the restraining order. You…” There was a long silence. Hannah’s mother struggled to regain her composure. “The funeral was a few days ago. Doctors said it was a stress heart attack from all the emotional pressure she’d been under lately. She just- She couldn’t take it.”
“I- I’m sorry.”
“I hope you are, Mark. I hope you stay sorry, you bastard. I hope you stay sorry forever.” She started crying again. “She loved you, you know? She really loved you.”
“I know. I know she did.” And I hung up.
Since then, the calls and texts have slowed down, but they haven’t stopped. I still get one from time to time. They’re always from an unknown number. I’ve tried to have the phone company trace them, but they make some excuses about corrupted data and international numbers. For a while, I wanted to believe they were someone playing some sick prank. But I know what they really are. Just a little reminder from Hannah.
Sometimes, when I stare out the kitchen at night, I think I see a pair of shiny blue eyes staring back at me. On those nights, as I lay in bed, I hear my phone buzz. There’s no point in looking at it because I already know what it’s going to say.
I know I’m a bastard who ruined my marriage. I know this is probably what I deserve.
She said she would love me forever, and I guess she really will.