“I dont even want to get married because of this. I dont trust women! And dont you dare wreck your family over some foolishness, you hear me?”
Id just finished my scrambled eggs and was sipping the last of my coffee when my wife, flushed and awkward, asked:
“Are you seeing someone else?”
“What makes you think”
“Dont lie to me, Simon. I just want to hear the truth from you.”
Now it was my turn to turn redsomething that rarely happened, only when I couldnt tell the truth but refused to lie.
“You dont have to say anything. I already know.”
I bolted outside like a scalded cat. The whole workday, I was on edge, furious at myself. The situation had thrown me off balance, forcing a decision I wasnt ready to make. I couldnt lie to my wifeshe meant too much to me.
Yes, there was another woman. Young, beautiful, stunningyoud probably laughcompletely lost my head, nothing but testosterone flooding every orifice.
Except youd be wrong. Not younger, not prettier than my wife. An old classmate. My first, unrequited love. An unresolved chapter, you might say. Ran into her by chance after all these years.
“Simon, is that you? Blimey, look at youproper London gentleman.”
I froze. Standing there with a mocking smile was Christine.
For a moment, I just stood there like an idiot, feeling utterly ridiculous. She looked me up and downmy tormentor from school (shed made my life hell with nicknames everyone else picked up. “Simon the Simple” was one of them).
“Come on, lets grab a coffee, catch up. Mini school reunion. Theres another old mate popping out of the shops any minute.”
Before I could answer, out she cameSophie. Blonde, delicate, soft. She saw me and smiled.
“Simon Carter, is that really you?” she asked in that painfully familiar voice. “How many years has it been?”
All I could do was smile back, my throat tight with surprise.
Of course, I took them to a café. We had a lovely chat. The next day, unable to resist, I met Sophie after work.
She wasnt surprisedacted like it was expected. We sat in another café, just the two of us, then I ended up at her place and vanished.
The affair had been going on for six months. All that time, Id been living in two worlds. In onemy family: my kids, Oliver and Lily, whom I adored, and my wife, whom I loved and still loved.
Yes, still loved. The love hadnt disappeared; it had just dimmed a little.
The other world was Sophiea rush of emotions, the thrill of possession, passion. If I could, Id have kept diving between the two. Thats why, when my wife saw through me too soon, I wasnt ready.
The only thing that came to mind by the end of the day was that I needed a break. A real onenot just from one of them. Time to think and make a final choice.
I was about to call my wife, Elizabeth, but she beat me to it.
“Simon, Im taking the kids to stay with my parents for a while. I need space,” she said. “Just promise me one thingstay in touch with Oliver and Lily. They love you, and I dont want them hurt before its necessary.”
Even more lost, I went home. When I imagined making a decision, I hadnt considered that my wife might make one tooand not in my favour. But she had every right.
For days, I thought about Sophie (so fresh, so vivid) and Elizabeth (my wife). I only remembered the gooddidnt want to lose either.
Not sure why, but at some point, I felt the urge to call my old school mate, Greg. Wed been friends since school, even served in the army together. Once, long ago, wed both been in love with Sophie unrequited, of course. Maybe thats why I called.
We arranged to meet. I invited him overit was pouring outside, and neither of us fancied some generic pub. Greg wasnt married, still lived with his parents. I was temporarily single, so if needed, he could crash at mine.
After work, I stopped by the shop, grabbed some frozen pies, sausages, and a bottle (what else do blokes need?), then headed home to wait for him.
“Nice place youve got here! Proper cosy. Happy for you, mate. Whens it my turn, eh? Your missus got any single friends?” Greg grinned, shaking my hand while glancing around.
We went to the kitchen. Id already laid out plates and cutleryjust needed to boil the pies.
“Wheres the wife?” Greg frowned. “Wanted to pay my respects. Didnt realise you were solo. Why didnt you say? I even got a cake and chocolates”
“Dont worry, well eat them. Shes at her parents just for a bit. Come on, first round!”
We had a drink. Then a couple more. Only after that did I tell Greg about Sophie, the passionate affair, and my dilemma. He stayed quietcompletely unlike him.
“Whats with the silence? You fancied Sophie too. Or still do?”
“Nah, course not. Not now, anyway,” Greg chuckled nervously. “Listen, Ill be straightyou dont need this. I know what Im talking about.”
“Oh yeah? What do you know?” I snapped. Shed barely given either of us the time of day back then, and even latersame story. If this was just gossip, I wasnt interested.
“I lived with her for six months, Simon,” Greg said wearily. She was already divorced by then. Know who her ex was? Nick Pearson, remember him?
“Pearson? Didnt know. She told me she was divorced, never mentioned the ex. Yeah, yeah, she used to flirt with himI remember wanting to punch his lights out.”
“Want me to tell you about me and Pearson? Or dont you want to know?”
“Mate, you started thisfinish it.” I sobered up fast, bracing for something I wouldnt like.
“Unlike you, I didnt just stare at herI wrote notes, carried her bag when she let me, even cornered her in the stairwell a couple times. No luck.”
She fancied Pearson, and I was no competition. But Pearson fancied half the girlswasnt like you and me. So Sophie fought for him, same as we fought for her.
They got marriedperfect couple, supposedly. Local golden pair. Seemed happy at first, until Sophie started nagging him about money.
Didnt want to live with his mum, wanted their own flat, furniture, the works. So he went off to work in Europedriving second-hand cars back. Money came in, but on his last trip, he had a bad crash. Took months to put him back together.
Every penny hed earned went into his recovery. Cant deny her thatshe got him back. Then suddenly she had a flat. Left Pearson.
Ran into her by chance or was it? I was leaving work, and there she was with Christineher old mate. Remember her? No idea what they were doing therenot exactly a spot for a stroll.
We had coffee, then well, you know. Felt like I was flying! Was planning to propose! Then she tells me shes off for two weekswork trip to Bristol. Like a fool, I believed her.
She comes back with a Mediterranean tan. When I asked, she said:
“Was dull and greyjust hit the sunbed and spa in my free time.”
Jealousy took over. Started following her, especially when shed cancel for some reason.
Guess what I found? A Range Rover pulls up, and out she stepswith some bloke. Not even young and handsomesome sixty-year-old grandad. Lost it, ran over and laid into himtook two blokes to pull me off.
Nearly went to prisonturned out the old git was some bigwig. Only got off because he couldnt afford the scandalmistress, flat, the whole lot.
Thats my story. Pearsons got his own version.
Greg got updidnt feel like talking anymore. Didnt stop him, but I walked him out.
“Thats why I dont want to marry. Dont trust women! And dont wreck your family over nonsense, you hear?” he said before leaving.
We shook hands, and he was gone.
A deep gloom settled over me. I collapsed onto the bed, thinking about how fragile life, happiness, and love were. About a dream that had lived hidden in my subconscious, now realisedfor all the wrong reasons.
That dream was like a little silver boat, bobbing on an endless em
