“I dont even want to get married after this. I dont trust women! And dont you dare wreck 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, flushed and visibly unsettled, asked hesitantly:
“Are you seeing someone else?”
“What makes you think”
“Dont lie to me, Simon. Just tell me the truth.”
Now it was my turn to go redsomething that rarely happened, only when I couldnt bring myself to speak the truth but refused to lie.
“You dont have to say anything. I already know.”
Scorched by her words, I bolted outside. The whole workday was a blur of nerves and self-loathing. The situation had thrown me off balance, forcing 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 laughbut no, that wasnt it. Not younger or prettier than my wife. Just an old schoolmate. My first, unrealized love. An unfinished chapter, so to speak. Wed bumped into each other after years.
“Simon, is that you? I barely recognized you. Looking quite the dapper Londoner.”
I froze. Standing before me, smirking, was Christina.
For a moment, I just stood there like a fool, feeling utterly ridiculous. She looked me up and down, my old tormentorthe one whod saddled me with nicknames the whole school adopted. “Simon the Simple” being one of them.
“Come on, lets grab a coffee, catch up. Mini reunion. Theres someone else here too, just finishing shopping.”
Before I could respond, she stepped out of the shopSienna. Blonde, delicate, soft-spoken. Her voice, painfully familiar, made my throat tighten.
“Simon Whitmore, is that really you?” she asked sweetly. “How many years has it been?”
All I could do was smile, my mouth dry with shock.
Of course, I took them to a café. We talked, laughed, reminisced. The next day, unable to resist, I waited for Sienna after work. She wasnt surprisedacted like it was expected. We sat in the café again, just the two of us, then I ended up at her place and vanished.
For six months, I lived in two worlds. Onemy family: my children, James and little Emily, whom I adored, and my wife, whom I loved and still loved. (Yes, still loved. The love hadnt gone anywhere, just dulled a little.)
The other worldSienna. A surge of emotions, the thrill of possession, passion. If I could, Id have kept diving between the two. Which was why, when my wife uncovered my secret so abruptly, I was completely unprepared.
The only thought that stuck with me by days end: I needed a break. A real one, not just from one of them. Time to think, to make a final choice.
I was about to call my wife, Mary, but she beat me to it.
“Simon, the children and I are staying with my parents for a while. I need time to think,” she said quietly. “Just promise me youll stay in touch with Emily and James. They love you, and I dont want them hurt before its necessary.”
More lost than ever, I went home. When I imagined making a decision, I hadnt considered that my wife might make one tooand not in my favor. But she had every right.
For days, I thought about Sienna (too fresh, too bright) and Mary (my wife). I remembered only the good, unwilling to lose either.
On impulse, I called my old schoolmate, Greg. Wed been friends since childhood, served in the army together. Back then, wed both been in love with Siennaunrequited, of course. Maybe thats why I called.
We arranged to meet. I invited him overrain was lashing outside, and neither of us fancied a pub. Greg was single, living with his parents. I was temporarily free, so he could crash at mine if needed.
After work, I grabbed dumplings, some cold cuts, and a bottle (what else do blokes need?) and headed home to wait.
“Nice place youve got here! Cozy. Happy for you, mate. Whens it my turn to settle down? Your wife got any single friends?” Greg grinned, shaking my hand while glancing around.
We moved to the kitchen. Id already set the tablejust needed to boil the dumplings.
“Wheres Mary?” Greg frowned. “Wanted to pay my respects. You didnt say youd be alone! I brought cake and chocolates…”
“Dont worry, well eat them. Theyre at her parents… just for a bit. Come on, first round!”
We drank. Then another. Only then did I tell Greg about Sienna, the whirlwind affair, my impossible position. He stayed silentuncharacteristically so.
“What, cat got your tongue? You fancied her too. Or still do?”
“No, no! Definitely not now,” Greg laughed, strained. “Listen, you dont need this. I know what Im saying.”
“And what do you know?” I snapped. She never gave either of us the time of day back then. If this was some sordid gossip, I wasnt interested.
“I lived with her for six months, Simon,” Greg said wearily. “She was already divorced then. Know who her ex was? Nick Parker, remember him?”
“Parker? She never mentioned him. Just said she was divorced. Yeah, I remember her eyeing him in school. I almost had a go at him once.”
“Want me to spell it out?”
“Go on.” I braced myself.
“Unlike you, I didnt just stareI wrote her notes, carried her bag when she let me, even cornered her in the stairwell a couple times. No luck. She wanted Parker. He was out of our league. Girls flocked to him. Sienna fought for him like we fought for her.”
“They marriedperfect couple, golden kids. Lived fine at first, till she started nagging about money. Didnt want to live with his mum, wanted their own flat, furniture, the lot. So he went to Europe for workfixing up old cars. Made decent cash, till one trip ended in a crash. They had to piece him back together.”
“Every penny went into his recovery. Credit where its dueshe stood by him, got him back on his feet. Then… suddenly she had a new flat. Left him.”
“Ran into her afterpure chance? Doubt it. I was leaving work, she was with Christina. Remember her? No idea what they were doing therenot exactly a shopping spot.”
“Coffee led to… well, you know. I was over the moon! Ready to propose! Then she tells me shes off on a work trip for two weeks. Like an idiot, I believed her.”
“She came back Mediterranean-tanned. My question? Oh, it was dreary, so I hit the tanning salon and spa.”
“Jealousy got the better of me. Started following her, especially when she couldnt meet. And guess what? A jeep pulls up at her place. Out she stepswith some silver-haired bloke in his sixties. I lost it, swung at the old git. Nearly got arrestedturns out he was some bigwig. Only got off because he couldnt risk the scandalmistress, the flat hed bought her…”
“Thats my story. Parkers got his own version.”
Greg stood, done talking, and headed for the hall. I didnt stop him but walked him out.
“Thats why Ill never marry. Dont trust women! And dont you wreck your family over nonsense, hear me?” he said at the door.
We shook hands, and he left.
A deep melancholy settled over me. I sprawled on the bed, thinking about lifes fragilityhappiness, love, the illusion of dreams. My beautiful fantasy had been like a little silver boat, bobbing on an endless emerald sea under a summer sunrise.
On that boat was the best girl in the worlda mystery forever unsolved, leaving only the weightless aura of an ideal. Now, I drank the last of the bottle, clutching it like a lover, and said goodbye. The sea was a puddle. The boatcardboardsank.
The next morning, under a cold shower, I knew: it was over.
By chanceor fatemy father-in-law called at lunch.
“Simon, got a flat near your office. Can you help? Backs killing me.”
I went. He stayed silent as a spy till the job was done.
“How are they?” I asked.
“Fine. Kids are greatbouncing. Mary… not herself. Quiet.”
“Can you lend me a thousand quid?” The
