When I ordered pizza while my fiancé was out, I didn’t expect a life-altering realization. Instead, I expected an evening of alone. I had no idea that this delivery would save me from a disastrous marriage.
Living with Jake was like falling into a comfortable, familiar routine. With its diverse sofas and cozy wraps, our tiny flat felt like a secure refuge. My name is Emily, and for the last three years, Jake and I have delighted in the small pleasures in life.
During our lazy evenings, ordering pizza was our most frequent luxury. We had made it into a ritual. I would phone our favorite neighborhood pizzeria while Jake looked through the available movies.
Our normal delivery man, Tom, knew who we were right away. His punctual arrivals, punctuated by a cheery “How’s it going?” filled our tiny foyer. But tonight was different—I was by myself. Jake was experiencing an overwhelming sense of stillness while on a business trip.
My usual order was a pepperoni pizza with extra cheese, so I went with that. The doorbell rang, and it was Tom as always, but this evening he seemed different. As he turned over the pizza box, his hands trembled a little and his smile appeared forced.
Emily, it’s evening. Is Jake absent this evening? Tom asked, a little hesitant in his tone.
“Just me tonight,” I answered, trying to seem positive. Tom gave a nod and turned to leave, maybe a little too quickly.
I was uneasy about his actions when I shut the door. Was he okay? I ignored my worries and carried the warm package into the kitchen. The smell of tomato sauce and garlic, which was always a pleasant combination, filled the air.
Still, my heart skipped a beat when I opened the box. The terrifying statement, “He is not who you think,” was scribbled inside the lid using a black Sharpie. Examine the camera on your door.
The pizza became unappealing suddenly, and I felt a wave of dread wash over me. My hands trembled as I set the box down, the apartment’s once-welcoming atmosphere eclipsed by a thick quiet. What might be seen on the door camera?
I fumbled with my fingers to turn on our door camera’s tablet. My nerves were on edge after reading the scary statement on the pizza box, and I felt like there was never enough time until the app opened. With every sweep through the camera’s captured past, the tension built.
Then it showed up.
Jake, my very own Jake, was there to greet a woman at our door. She was more than just any woman, though, as she gave him a bottle of wine while grinning. My heart broke. I continued to scroll. separate women showed up on separate days; one even brought a stack of movies.
Jake had guests every time I was away. Various ladies, all caught on camera by the same device he’d set up for our “security.”
The iPad slipped out of my hand, frozen. How could he turn on me? Since when had our lives together become this lie? Tears filled my vision, every captured moment stabbing me in the heart. Was everything I believed we shared, the faith I had put in him, one-sided?
Every giggle that was shared and every bottle of wine that was traded felt as though the walls were closing in on the apartment. I had loved this house, our life together, but now there was betrayal everywhere I looked.
I was overcome with nausea, a knot rising in my throat as the terrible reality set me. This was a purposeful, continuous betrayal, not just an error or misunderstanding. I felt a wave of anger mix with my sadness.
I had to face him and ask for an explanation. Initially, I needed to collect the pieces of my broken dignity and assemble myself. I had to keep my brokenness from him.
I steeled myself; a cold, biting rage had taken the place of the affection I had previously felt. I was due some solid answers from Jake.
When he returned, the tension was tangible and the apartment was strangely silent. Unaware of the storm within me, he walked in smiling.
“Hi, Em.” He said, “Missed you,” taking off his coat.
We should chat, I responded, refusing to smile in return.
Jake’s grin dimmed. “What’s off?”
I held up the iPad, stuck on a picture of him with one of the girls. “Could you please explain?”
He looked at the screen and shrugged absently. “Emily, you’re exaggerating the situation. They are merely pals.
“Comrades?” I snapped back. “Each time I leave, different women? Actually, Jake?
He ruffled his hair and groaned. “Look, Em, you’re acting suspiciously.” These women are unimportant.
“Nothin’ at all?” My tone sharpened, rage piercing my pretended composure. “You can’t really say that?”
Jake’s voice became harsher. “I have a lot to offer this partnership. Are you truly that insecure that you want to discard this?
The final straw was that. His disdain and haughtiness strengthened my determination. “Jake, it’s not insecurity when I have proof. This is beyond me. I refuse to wed someone who holds such low regard for me.
His face changed from one of dismissal to shock. “Are you serious? For some absurdity?
“Yes,” I firmly said. “I’ve finished. We’re through.
After giving me a long look, he took off his coat without a word. The end came as the door shut behind him.
I collected my thoughts and gave the pizza place a call by myself. Tom replied.
It’s Emily, Tom. I… I desired to express gratitude. Regarding Jake, you were correct.
He paused before answering, “I genuinely apologize, Emily. I believed you ought to be aware.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice full of appreciation. “May I perhaps get you a coffee sometime? To converse?
Tom said, soothing my wounded heart with his tone, “I’d like that.”
The ordeal with Jake felt far away the next day, as I sat with Tom at the neighborhood café. I could feel Tom’s genuine care, and it was the first time in a long time that I felt really noticed.
“Tom, I appreciate you being upfront with me. “It must have been difficult to decide whether to tell me,” I said, sipping our coffees.
He gave a nod. Yes, Emily. However, it didn’t feel right to withhold it from you. Everyone is entitled to the truth.
Eventually, the topics of our talk went from serious to playful, and laughter broke the tension. I didn’t think I would feel so free after going through such a serious experience. It made me think about how occasionally we can rise above the rubble and create something even better.
As Tom’s laughter blended with mine, a weight was removed from my shoulders. I felt as though I was breathing normally again after being imprisoned for an extended period of time.
I jokingly said, “I never thought a pizza delivery could change my life,” and Tom gave me a knowing look.
“Emma, life is odd. His eyes glistened with sympathy as he answered, “Sometimes the most unexpected places can provide help.”
A feeling of hope came over me again as we left the café. Uncertain of what was ahead, but certain of one thing: I was on my way to rediscovering joy, one slice at a time. I was ready to embrace whatever lay ahead.