Andrew left for Molly, then begged for a second chance I said no, I told him, trying to keep my voice steady.
Right, Im at fault, Andrew said, his hands clenched. But just
Just what, Andrew? I prompted, trying to sound supportive.
Just sometimes a person cant control his feelings! he blurted. Its like breathing. You cant decide not to breathe, can you?
Exactly, I replied, surprised by the chill in my own tone. I cant
***
It all began three weeks ago. Suddenly Andrew started buying new shirtsexpensive, impractical, and flamboyant. He signed up at a local gym, even though for the past five years his most strenuous exercise had been a jog from the sofa to the fridge. Strangest of all, his jealousy vanished.
Before, if I stayed half an hour late at work, his calls would come flooding in: Where are you? Who are you with? When are you coming home? Now there was nothing.
One night I got home at midnight after a corporate dinner. He mumbled something incoherent, halfasleep, and turned his back to the wall. At first I was relievedfinally a grownup, not a jealous schoolboy. I even bragged to a friend:
Can you believe it? My husbands turned over a new leaf! At fortythree hes suddenly into health, stopped being possessive, actually trusts me!
She gave me a strange look but said nothing. If wed talked, I might have seen the signs sooner.
I told myself it was a midlife crisis, a desperate attempt to feel young again. I laughed when he did planks and pushups at dawn.
Then I found a café receipt in his jacket pocket. Two cappuccinos, two cheesecakes, dated Tuesday, 3p.m.
Tuesday I thought. Thats the day he said hed be in meetings all day, even claimed he didnt have time to eat.
My heart tightened, but I brushed it off. Maybe he was meeting a colleague for coffee, or entertaining a business partner. Happens, right?
Later, more receipts appeared, along with a salon business card not the greasy barbershop hed been going to for fifteen years, but a chic boutique in the city centre. And a whiff of perfume lingered. Good heavens, do men really think their wives, after years of marriage, wont notice another womans scent?
***
Its a new client, he tried to explain. Shes a brilliant businesswomanstarted a perfume boutique from scratch. She gave me some samples
I believed him, because I wanted to. Eighteen years of marriage isnt a joke; its a whole life. Our daughter was grown, heading to university in another city. Wed bought a flat, built a holiday cottage. His mother, before she passed, had kissed my hands and thanked me for loving her son, saying shed made him happy.
Happy
***
Then the call came on a Saturday morning. Andrew was in the shower, his phone on the bedside table. The screen flashed Molly P.
Molly his first love, a romance from the days when he still believed in forever. Twenty years had passed since she chose someone else and vanished from his radar. I, naïve, thought that chapter was closed.
I let the phone ring, watched the caller ID blink. Seven rings, then a text: Ill be waiting there.
Everything fell into place: the new shirts, the gym, the perfume, the café at three.
Shes back, isnt she? I asked, surprised by my own calm. Molly shes returned?
Andrew flinched.
His face went pale, as if Id caught him redhanded. Though there was nothing to catcheverything was out in the open.
Listen, Ivy if you think he stammered.
I think? I smiled wryly. What am I thinking? That my husband gets calls from his ex? That he buys flashy shirts and hits the gym? That he sips coffee in a café while supposedly stuck in meetings?
We just ran into each other by chance shes divorced, back in town. We just talked
Andrew, I cut in, enough. Were adults. Tell me honestlydo you still love her?
He stayed silent. Seconds stretched, heavy. In that stillness I heard everything I needed.
I tried, he finally exhaled. Ivy, I swear I tried. I thought it would pass. I thought Id fall back in love with you. Youre sensible, good and she
And shes your first love, I finished for him. Your original flame. Im just the spare tire, the consolation prize Got it.
He said nothing.
So, I said, lets get a divorce.
Andrew shivered again.
Ivy, wait, dont be hasty maybe we could try
Try what? I snapped. Pretend nothing happened? Keep meeting her on the sly? Act like you dont think of her when we lie together? No, thank you. Go to her.
He stared at me, a long, bewildered look. Perhaps he really didnt recognise me any more Id always been the easy-going, unassuming wife. Never argued, never made scenes.
Golden wife, his mother used to call me.
Yes, thats what she said. He didnt want a golden wife; he wanted his first love, the one who could drive him mad and break his mind.
***
Thank you, he said suddenly. Thank you for understanding.
***
We signed the papers quickly, without drama. We left the flat to our daughter, who was about to get married. I moved back in with my mother in our old twobedroom house. Andrew moved in with Molly.
Three months later I was pulling myself together. I landed a new job, discovered a hobby, began attending theatre and gallery openings with a friend.
Then Andrew called.
Ivy, hi his voice sounded lost. Can I come over? We need to talk.
I agreed, and twenty minutes later he arrived, a bouquet of white chrysanthemums in hand.
I was foolish, he said, handing me the flowers. A complete fool. Forgive me. I realised she isnt who I thought she was. Or maybe Im not who I thought I was Were strangers now. And you
What about me? I asked, a smirk playing on my lips.
Honestly, I miss you, he said. I miss your calm, your care, the way you laugh at my stupid jokes, the way you make coffee in the mornings
Andrew, I interrupted. Are you out of your mind?
Ivy! he pleaded. Give me another chance! I finally understand that youre my real happiness, not some ghost from the past!
I looked at him, and thought how easy it would be to say yeslet him back in, pretend nothing had happened, return to the old routine.
But I didnt want to be a consolation prize any longer. I didnt want to be the woman people return to when theres nowhere else to go. I didnt want to lie awake wondering if another phantom from my past would call, asking for a second goround.
No, Andrew, I whispered, Im sorry, but no. You made your choice back then, and Im choosing my own future.
