Quick Farewell: A Car Goodbye and the Return Home
He stepped out of the car and gave his mistress a tender goodbye before heading home. When he arrived, he lingered outside the building for a moment, mentally rehearsing how to break the news to his wife. He climbed the stairs and unlocked the door.
“Hello,” said Edward. “You home, Beatrice?”
“I am,” replied his wife, coolly. “Hi. Should I start frying the steaks?”
Edward promised himself hed be directfirm and confident, like a man should be! It was time to end his double life before his lovers kisses lost their warmth, before he got swallowed up again by the monotony of everyday routine.
“Beatrice,” Edward cleared his throat, “Ive come to say we need to split up.”
Beatrice took the news with surprising calm. Shed always been hard to rattlewhich was why Edward affectionately called her “Ice Queen Beatrice.”
“Really?” Beatrice asked from the kitchen doorway. “So, you want me to skip frying the steaks, then?”
“Up to you,” said Edward. “Fry them if you like, dont if you dont. Im leavingIm with someone else.”
Most wives wouldve thrown something at their husband after that. But Beatrice wasnt most wives.
“Oh, you and your dramas,” she replied. “Did you pick up my boots from the repair shop?”
“No,” Edward faltered. “If its that important, I can go fetch them right now!”
“Ah, Edward,” Beatrice sighed. “Send a fool to fetch boots, and youll get the old ones back.”
Edward bristled. This wasnt how he imagined the breakup would go. Where was the emotion? But what else could he expect from a wife nicknamed Ice Queen Beatrice?
“Beatrice, are you even listening?!” Edward snapped. “Im leaving. Im moving in with another woman, and all you care about are boots!”
“Right,” said Beatrice. “Unlike me, you can go wherever you please. Your boots arent at the cobblers. Nothings keeping you grounded.”
Theyd been married for years, yet Edward still couldnt tell if she was serious or mocking him. Back then, hed fallen for her easygoing nature, her knack for avoiding drama, her quiet strength. Plus, her cooking and looks hadnt hurt.
Beatrice was solid, loyal, and unshakablelike an anchor. But now Edward loved someone else. A fiery, forbidden, intoxicating passion! It was time to lay his cards on the table and start fresh.
“Beatrice, I want to thank you for everything, but Im leaving because I love another woman, not you.”
“What a shock!” Beatrice scoffed. “You dont love mebig news! My mum fancied the neighbour, my dad loved dominoes and whisky. Look how I turned out.”
Edward knew arguing with Beatrice was pointless. Every word from her carried weight. His resolve falteredhe didnt want a fight.
“Youre brilliant, Beatrice,” Edward said, defeated. “But Im in lovewildly, recklessly. Im leaving, understand?”
“Another woman?” she asked. “Is it Emily Foster?”
Edward froze. A year ago, hed had a fling with Emilybut he never thought Beatrice knew!
“How did you?” he stammered, then stopped. “Doesnt matter. Its not her.”
Beatrice yawned.
“Then its Sophie Bennett? Fancy running off with her?”
A chill ran down Edwards spine. Hed also had a thing with Sophiebut that was ancient history. If Beatrice knew, why hadnt she said anything? Of courseshe was steel. Nothing made her crack.
“No, not Sophie or Emily. Its someone else, the woman of my dreams. I cant live without her, and Im going. Dont try to stop me!”
“Must be Sarah, then,” Beatrice muttered. “Oh, Edward what an open secret! Your dream woman is Sarah Hughes. Thirty-five, one kid, two miscarriages Am I warm?”
Edward clutched his head. Shed nailed it! He *was* seeing Sarah Hughes.
“But how did you know?!” he spluttered. “Did someone tell you? Were you following me?”
“Simple, Edward,” Beatrice said. “Im a GP, and Ive examined nearly every woman in this townwhile youve only managed a few. Just had to put two and two together.”
Edward straightened up.
“Fine, you got me! Even if it is Sarah, it changes nothing. Im going with her.”
“Youre daft, Edward,” Beatrice said. “Couldve at least asked me first! Honestly, theres nothing special about Sarahsame as the others, medically speaking. Seen your muses health records?”
“N-no” Edward admitted.
“Right. Go shower. Tomorrow, Ill ring Dr. Thompsonhell see you at the clinic without the wait,” said Beatrice. “Then well talk. Honestly, a doctors husband picking an unhealthy mistresswhat were you thinking?”
“What should I do?” Edward asked, miserable.
“Ill fry the steaks,” said Beatrice. “You go shower and do whatever you like. If youre after a perfect mistress with no baggage, just askI know a few candidates”
