My Ex-Wife…
This happened two years ago. My work assignment was coming to an end, and it would soon be time for me to return home to Sheffield.
After buying my ticket, I decided to wander around the city a bit since I still had three hours to spare. While I strolled along the High Street, a woman approached mesomeone I recognised in an instant.
It was my first wife, whom Id divorced twelve years earlier. Beth hadnt changed a bit, although her face seemed a touch too pale. Clearly, seeing me had rattled her as much as it did me.
I had loved her deeplypainfully, reallyand that was the root of our break-up. My jealousy ruled me, even extending to her own mother. The moment she was late, my heart would pound, and Id be sure I was dying inside.
In the end, Beth left me. She couldnt take my constant interrogations: where shed been, who shed seen, and why. One day, I brought home a small puppy, tucked inside my coathoping to cheer her up with this silly little giftbut she was gone. On the table was a note.
Beth wrote that she was leaving, though she loved me dearly. My suspicions had wrung her out, and she had made her decision to go. She begged me to forgive her, and pleaded that I not try to find her.
And now, after twelve years apart, our paths had crossed again in this city where I happened to be working. We talked for ages, and I suddenly remembered my coach was at risk of leaving without me.
At last, I said, Sorry, but I have to go. My bus is about to depart.
Beth looked at me and replied, Tom, could you do me a small favour? I know youre in a hurry, but for the sake of what was good between us, please dont refuse. Would you come into this office with me? Its important, and I cant do it alone.
Of course, I agreed, but told her, Only if its quick! We entered a grand old building and, for what felt like fifteen minutes, wandered through endless corridors and up and down wooden staircases. Men, women, children, even the elderly passed us by, not that it struck me as odd to see children or old folks in a place like thisI could think of nothing but Beth.
Suddenly, she slipped through a door and quietly closed it behind her. Before the door shut, she looked back at me with a strange finality, saying, Its so odd, really. I could never be with you or without you.
I waited at the door, expecting her to return. I longed to ask her what she meant with those last words. But she didnt come back. Then I snapped out of my trance. I urgently needed to leave, yet I stood frozen and realised I was now running late for my coach. Looking round in alarm, I noticed that the building was utterly derelict. The windows gaped open with broken glass, and there were no stairs at alljust planks leading down, which I scrambled across with difficulty.
I missed my bus by a full hour and had to buy a new ticket for the next one, paying out of my own pocket. When I got my ticket, the agent told me that the previous coachthe one I was supposed to be onhad overturned and crashed into the river. None of the passengers survived.
Two weeks later, I finally tracked down my former mother-in-law, Irene Mortimer, through the registry office. She calmly told me that Beth had died eleven years ago, a year after our divorce. I simply couldnt believe her and assumed she was only trying to shield her daughter from my jealous nature.
At my request to see Beths grave, my former mother-in-law, to my surprise, agreed. A couple of hours later, I stood before the gravestone, looking at the photograph of the woman I had loved all my lifethe woman who had, inexplicably, saved my own.
