“I dont even want to get married because of this. I dont trust women! And dont you dare wreck your family over some nonsense, you hear me?”
Id just finished my scrambled eggs and was halfway through my coffee when my partner, flushed and awkward, blurted out:
“Are you seeing someone else?”
“Why would you”
“Dont insult me by lying, Simon. I just want to hear the truth from you.”
Now it was my turn to go redsomething that rarely happened, and only when I couldnt tell the truth but refused to lie.
“You dont have to say anything. I already know.”
I bolted outside like Id been scalded. The rest of the workday was a blur of nerves and self-loathingthis situation had thrown me off balance, forcing a decision I wasnt ready to make. Lying to my wife wasnt an optionshe meant too much to me.
Yes, there was another woman. Young, beautiful, stunningyoud probably laughmy brain had checked out, leaving only testosterone leaking from every orifice, right?
Wrong. She wasnt younger or prettier than my wife. Just an old schoolmate. My first, unrequited love. An unfinished chapter, you might say. Id bumped into her years later.
“Si, is that you? Blimey, I barely recognised you. Proper London gent now!”
I froze. Standing there with a mocking smile was Christina.
For a moment, I just gawped like an idiot, feeling utterly ridiculous. She eyed me up and downmy old tormentor (shed made school hell with nicknames everyone copied. “Si” was the least offensive).
“Come on, lets grab a coffee, have a chat. Mini reunion. Theres another old friend doing her shoppingshell be out in a sec.”
Before I could refuse, out she came from the shopSophie. Blonde, delicate, ethereal. She saw me and smiled.
“Simon Spencer, is that really you?” Her voice was painfully familiar. “How many years has it been?”
I could only smile back, a lump in my throat.
Of course, I took them to a café. We had a lovely catch-up. The next day, unable to shake the emotions, I met Sophie after work.
She didnt seem surprisedlike shed expected it. We sat in a café, just the two of us this time, then well, I ended up at hers. And that was that.
Six months later, I was living two lives. In one: my familyJack and little Emily, whom I adored, and my wife, whom I still loved (yes, lovedit hadnt vanished, just dulled a little).
The other life? Sophiea surge of passion, the thrill of possession, love. If I could, Id have flicked between these worlds forever. Which was why, when my wife sussed me out prematurely, I was completely unprepared.
By the end of the day, the only thought I had was: I need 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, Alice, but she beat me to it.
“Simon, the kids and I are staying with my parents for a while. I need space,” she said. “Just promise me youll stay in touch with Jack and Emily. They love you, and I dont want them upset before they have to be.”
More lost than ever, I went home. Id assumed Id be the one making the decisionsit hadnt occurred me she might make her own, and they might not favour me. Fair enough.
For days, I agonised over Sophie (still fresh and bright) and Alice (my wife). I only remembered the goodI didnt want to lose either.
No idea why, but at some point, I rang up my old schoolmate Greg. Wed been mates since year seven, even served together. Back then, wed both fancied Sophie with equal lack of success. Maybe thats why I called.
We arranged to meet. I asked him overit was pouring, and neither of us fancied a pub. Greg was single, still living with his parents. Me? Temporarily free. If needed, he could crash at mine.
After work, I grabbed some frozen pies, sausage, and a bottle (what else do blokes need?) and headed home to wait.
“Nice place, mate! Proper cosy. Chuffed for you! Whens it my turn to settle down? Your missus got any single friends?” Greg grinned, shaking my hand while eyeing the place.
We moved to the kitchen. Id already laid out plates and cutleryjust had to boil the pies.
“Wheres the wife? Wanted to pay my respects, but its just you?” Greg frowned. “Why didnt you say? I brought cake and chocolates”
“Dont worry, well eat them. Theyre at her parents just for a bit. Go on, first round!”
We had one. Then a couple more. Only then did I tell Greg about Sophie, the whirlwind affair, and my mess. He went quietunlike him.
“What, cat got your tongue? You fancied her too. Still do?”
“Nah, not a chance,” Greg forced a laugh. “Listen, mateyoure better off without it. Trust me.”
“Oh yeah? Whys that?” I snapped. Shed ignored us back then, and after. If this was some gossip, I wasnt interested.
“I lived with her for six months, Si,” Greg sighed. “She was divorced by then. Know who her ex was? Nick Pearson, remember him?”
“Pearson? No idea. She said she was divorced, never mentioned him. Waitshe did eye him up at school. I nearly had a go at him once.”
“Want me to spell it out?”
“Might as well. Youve started.” Suddenly sober, I braced myself.
“Unlike you, I didnt just stareI wrote notes, carried her bag when she let me, even cornered her a few times in the stairwell. No luck. She wanted Pearson. Bloke was swimming in admirerswe never stood a chance. Still, our Sophie fought for him like we fought for her.”
“Married himperfect couple, right? Local power duo. Lived alright at first, till she started nagging about money. Refused to live with his mum, wanted their own place, furniture, the lot. So off he went to Europedriving second-hand motors. Made some cash, till one trip went sideways. Bad crash. Took months to patch him up.”
“She spent every penny fixing himcredit where its due. Then suddenly shes got a flat. Leaves him.
“Ran into her by chanceor not? I was finishing work, shes there with Christina. Remember her? No idea what they were doingnot exactly a shopping hotspot.
“We had coffee, then well, you know the drill. I was over the moon! Ready to propose! Then she says shes off for two weekswork trip, Manchester. Like a mug, I believed her.”
“She comes back with a tan youd get in Magaluf. Place was grim, she says. Spent my free time in tanning salons.
“I got suspicious. Started following her, especially when she couldnt meet. Guess what? Spotted a Range Rover dropping her off. Not alonesome grandad in his sixties. Lost it, ran at himtook three blokes to pull me off.”
“Nearly got nickedturns out grandad was some bigwig. Only got off because he couldnt afford the scandalmistress, flat, the works.
“Thats my tale. Pearsons got his own version.”
Greg stood, done talking. I didnt stop him but walked him out.
“Thats why Im not marrying. Dont trust women. And dont you wreck your family, hear me?” he said, shaking my hand before leaving.
A weird melancholy hit me. I flopped onto the bed, thinking about lifes fragility, happiness, love. About a dream Id kept buriedone that had finally come true, fatally.
That dream was like a little silver boat, bobbing on emerald waves under a summer sunrise. On it stood the perfect girla mystery forever unsolved, leaving only the ghost of an ideal.
Now, I said goodbye to it, finishing the bottle and passing out. The sea turned out to be a puddle; the boat, cardboardsoggy and sunk.
Next morning, under a cold shower, I knew: that chapter was closed.
Coincidentally, my father-in-law rang at lunch.
“Simon, got a flat tyrepulled over a mile from your office. Any chance you could help? Backs playing up.”
I drove over. He worked in silence till it was done. Then:
“Hows the family?”
“Alright. Kids are grandtheyll
