“I dont even want to get married because of this. I dont trust women! And dont you dare ruin your family over some foolishness, you hear me?”
I had just finished my scrambled eggs and was sipping the last of my coffee when my wife, flushing red, asked me in a flustered, almost awkward way:
“Are you seeing another woman?”
“What makes you think”
“Dont lie to me, Simon. Just tell me the truth.”
Now it was my turn to flushsomething that rarely happened to me, only in moments like these: when I couldnt tell the truth but refused to lie.
“You dont have to say anything. I understand.”
Stung, I bolted outside. The whole workday was spent in a nervous haze, berating myself. The situation had thrown me off balance, demanding 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, glamorousyou might laughmy head had been turned, nothing left but testosterone pouring out of every orifice.
But youd be wrong. She wasnt younger or more beautiful than my wife. She was an old schoolmate. My first, unrequited love. An unresolved chapter, you might say. Wed met again by chance after years.
“Simon, is that you? I hardly recognize you. Look at you, a proper London gentleman.”
I was stunned. Standing before me, with a mocking smile, was Christine.
For a moment, I just stood there like a fool, feeling utterly exposed. She looked me up and downmy tormentor from school, the one whod saddled me with nicknames the others eagerly adopted. “Simon the Simple” was one of them.
“Come on, lets grab a coffee, catch up. Theres someone else you might remember.”
Before I could answer, she emerged from the shopSophie. Blonde, delicate, ethereal. She smiled when she saw me.
“Simon Whitfield, is that really you?” Her voice was painfully familiar, like a melody from long ago. “How many years has it been?”
All I could do was smile back, a lump forming in my throat.
Of course, I took them to a café. We talked, laughed, reminisced. The next day, unable to resist, I met Sophie after work.
She wasnt surprised. It felt inevitable. We sat in another café, just the two of us, and then I ended up at her place and vanished into the affair.
For six months, I lived in two worlds. One was home: my childrenThomas and little Lilywhom I adored, and my wife, whom I loved and still loved.
Yes, still loved. The love hadnt disappeared; it had just dimmed, buried under routine.
The other world was Sophieelectric emotions, stolen happiness, passion. If I could, I would have kept slipping between these two lives forever. Thats why, when my wife uncovered the truth too soon, I was completely unprepared.
By the end of that day, only one thought made sense: I needed a break. A real one, not just from one or the other. Time to think. To choose.
I was about to call Mary, my wife, but she beat me to it.
“Simon, Im taking the children to stay with my parents for a while. I need time to think,” she said quietly. “Just promise me one thingstay in touch with Thomas and Lily. They love you, and I dont want them hurt before its necessary.”
More lost than ever, I went home. When I imagined making my choice, I never considered that Mary might make hersand not in my favour. But of course, she had every right.
For days, I thought about Sophie (the memories too fresh, too vivid) and Mary (my wife). I remembered only the good, not wanting to lose either.
Something made me call my old school friend, Gregory. Wed been closeschool, even the army together. Once, long ago, wed both been in love with Sophie and both been ignored. Maybe thats why I called.
We arranged to meet. I invited him overoutside, rain poured, and neither of us fancied a pub. Gregory was unmarried, lived with his parents, and I was temporarily free, so if need be, he could crash at mine.
After work, I stopped by the shop, grabbed some frozen dumplings, sausages, and a bottle (what else do blokes need?), then headed home to wait.
“Nice place youve got here! Cosy! Happy for you, mate. Whens it my turn to settle down? Your wife got any single friends?” Gregory grinned, shaking my hand while scanning the room.
We moved to the kitchen. Id already laid out plates and cutleryjust needed to boil the dumplings.
“Wheres the missus?” Gregory frowned. “Wanted to pay my respects. Didnt realise you were alone. Why didnt you say? I brought cake and chocolates”
“Dont worry, well eat them. Shes at her parents just for a bit. Come on, first round.”
We drank. Then another. Only then did I tell him about Sophie, the whirlwind affair, the mess I was in. Gregory was uncharacteristically quiet.
“Cat got your tongue? You were in love with her too. Or still are?”
“No, no! Not now, definitely not,” he laughed, but it sounded strained. “Listen, Ill be straightyou dont want this. I know what Im talking about.”
“And what do you know?” I snapped. Shed barely glanced at either of us back then, or since. If this was just gossip, I wasnt interested.
“I lived with her for six months, Simon.” Gregory sighed. “She was divorced by then. Know who her ex was? Nicholas Parker, remember him?”
“Parker? No idea. She mentioned the divorce, never said his name. Yeah, I recall her eyeing him. I nearly had words with him back then.”
“You want me to spell it out?”
“Might as well. You started it.” I braced myself, suddenly sober. Whatever came next, I wouldnt like it.
“Unlike you, I didnt just stare at her. I wrote notes, carried her bag when she let me, even cornered her in the stairwell a couple timesgot nowhere. She fancied Parker, and I wasnt competition. But Parker fancied half the girls in school, not just us losers. So Sophie fought for him like wed fought for her.”
“They marriedperfect couple, right? Local golden pair. Seemed happy at first, till Sophie started nagging about money. Didnt want to live with his mum, wanted their own place, furniture, the lot. So he went off to Europe, driving lorries. Made some cash, but on his next triphorrific crash. They practically had to piece him back together.”
“Every penny hed earned went into his recovery. Credit where its dueshe stuck by him, got him back on his feet. Then suddenly she had a flat. Left him soon after.”
“We ran into each other or did we? I was leaving work, she was out with Christineher old mate. Remember her? No idea what they were doing there; its not exactly a leisure spot.”
“Coffee, then well, you know. Felt like flying! I was ready to propose! Then she tells me shes off on a two-week work trip to Bristol. Like an idiot, I believed her.”
“She came back with a Mediterranean tan. When I asked, she said: Place was dull, so I hit the sunbed and spa in my free time.”
“Jealousy got the better of me. I followed her, especially when she couldnt meet for vague reasons.”
“And what do you knowI caught her. A Range Rover pulls up, and out she steps. Not alonewith some bloke. Not even young and handsome, but some silver-haired codger in his sixties. Lost it. Charged at himtook three blokes to pull me off.”
“Nearly went to prison. Turns out the old git was some bigwig! Only got off because he couldnt afford the scandalnot with his mistress and the flat hed bought her.”
“Thats my story. Parker could tell you more.”
Gregory stood, clearly done talking, and headed for the hall to grab his coat. I didnt stop him, but I walked him out.
“Thats why I wont marry. Dont trust women. And dont you wreck your family over this rubbish, hear me?” He clapped my shoulder and left.
A deep melancholy settled over me. I collapsed onto the bed, lost in thoughts about lifes fragilitylove, happiness, all of it. I thought about my dream, long buried in my subconscious, now realised for all the wrong reasons.
That dream had been like a tiny silver boat, bobbing on an endless emerald sea under a summer sunrise. On it stood my perfect girla mystery
