Betrayal, Shock, and a Dash of Drama
Natalie was just putting the finishing touches on dinner when there was a knock at the door. *How odd*, she thought. *Everyone we know just rings the bell.* She opened it to find a woman about her own age, looking at her with an awkward sort of curiosity.
“Good evening! You must be Natalie?” the stranger chirped.
“I am,” Natalie replied, raising an eyebrow. “And you are…?”
“Oh, you wouldnt know me. Im a, well, *close friend* of your husbands.”
“Olivers?”
“*Ollies*,” the woman corrected with a simper.
Natalie sighed. “Right. Of course. Shouldve known hed have you calling him that. Honestly, Im surprised you bothered knockingmost just call. But since were here, what should I call you?”
“Its Helen. And, well theres something you should know.”
“Let me guess,” Natalie said dryly. “You and my husband are madly in love, and Im somehow in the way?”
Helen blinked. “How did you?”
“Because, darling, youre not the first. Take him, by all means. Whats his excuse this time? That our kids are too young? That Im ill?”
“Oh no, nothing like that! He said well, he said we just have to wait until until your father *passes*.”
Natalie froze. Her father, a sprightly 68-year-old who still went for morning runs, was in perfect health. “Excuse me?”
Helen fidgeted. “Ollie said once your dads gone, youll move into his flat, and then”
“*His* flat?!” Natalie nearly laughed. “Thats *my* flatinherited from my nan, renovated with my parents money! Dads got every receipt, and hes not going anywhere for decades, thank you very much.”
Helen looked crestfallen. “But Ollie was so sure! He said hed get the flat, and youd take the cottage and the car”
Natalie rolled her eyes. “Right. Well, since you couldnt wait for this grand inheritance, why come now?”
Helen sighed. “Im not getting any younger, and I want to enjoy happiness while I still can. I dont even care about the flatwe can live at mine!”
“How noble. So what do you want from me?”
“Just let him go. Thats all.”
Natalie shrugged. “Done. Packed his bags already.”
Helens eyes widened. “Just like that?”
“Just like that. I stopped loving him years ago. Tolerated him for the kids sake, then out of habit. But this? Waiting for my dad to *die*? Thats a new low.” She flashed a tight smile. “Tell Ollie the divorce papers will be ready tomorrow. He can keep the car and the garagebut the flats staying mine.”
Helen left, and Natalie finished packing Olivers thingsneatly, almost cheerfully. She knew exactly how to make him leave *for good* this time.
When Oliver strolled in later, he barely noticed anything amissuntil Natalie refused to join him for dinner. No matter. Hed eat, then slip out for his usual “evening stroll.”
“Darling, that was lovely. Fancy a walk, I think,” he announced.
“Of course, *love*,” Natalie said sweetly. “At your age, fresh air is so important.”
Oliver bristled. “*My age*? Im in my prime!”
“Fifty-two is hardly prime, dear. Face ityoure getting on. Why, even strangers offer you their seat on the bus now!”
“Thats *courtesy*!”
“Or pity. Anyway, since youve been *snoozing* in the spare room for a year, Ive found myself some companionship. Peters lovely. Near your age, but *far* more energetic.”
Oliver gaped. “*Peter*? Who the devil?”
“No need for hysterics. You checked out ages ago. But go on, toddle off. Think things over.”
Oliver, now scarlet, spluttered, “A woman who calls me *old* doesnt deserve me! Ill leave! And dont expect forgiveness!”
“Your bags are by the door, darling. Oh, and good luck waiting for Dad to *pop off*hes planning a world cruise.”
Oliver grabbed a suitcase and stormed out, straight to Helens.
The divorce sailed through. Oliver got the car and garage; Natalie kept the flat and sold the cottage. She and her dad embarked on a grand tourLondon, Edinburgh, Cornwall. Meanwhile, Helen soon tired of Olivers “strolls” and chucked his things onto the pavement.
Desperate, Oliver slunk back to Nataliesonly to find she was away *again* with her annoyingly healthy father.
With nowhere else to go, he eyed his garage. *Could install a sink maybe a camp bed*
Orbetter yetfind some naive young thing whod believe a silver fox like him still had *plenty* to offer.
After all, he wasnt *old*. Just strategically mature.
