Charlotte, my lifelong partner-in-crime, and I were as inseparable as tea and biscuits from the moment we learned to walk. We survived nursery together, made it through primary school, and even landed at the same universityclearly, destiny had a sense of humour. At uni, I met a fellow who was terribly charming and, lets be honest, distractingly good-looking. My heart did cartwheels for him, but the plot thickened: fate, being the prankster it is, nudged him straight in Charlottes direction.
Charlotte, who was not only lovely but had this knack for making everyone adore her, caught his eyeby accident, she claims. When she popped round for a chat and gently asked whether she could have a little flirt with him (turns out she was smitten too), I hesitated, then told her I didnt mind, but I did love him. In effect, I handed over my one true love for the sake of friendship. And so, time marched on. Charlotte and I both ended up with our own families, kids, the whole kit and caboodle. Gradually, my feelings for Mr. Handsome faded into the background and I busied myself with nappies and packed lunches.
Then, out of the blue, Charlotte asked if I could cover for her because she had a secret rendezvous. My eyebrow shot up. Why on earth shouldnt her husband know? She confessed shed fallen madly for another man and simply couldnt go on without him. Yet, divorce was off the table, because her husband was a good provider, absolutely doted on the children, and treated her like royalty.
Frankly, I was baffled. Her husband was the full packagea loving dad and an all-round top bloke. What was she thinking? If hed been cold or hadnt cared, I could grasp her reasons. But with all the warmth and support he gave her, I couldnt understand why shed trade the comfort of what she had for wild new adventures that promised more drama than romantic comediesand probably less popcorn.
