**A Late Farewell: A Goodbye on the Way Home**
After kissing his mistress tenderly goodbye, Philip Carter got into his car and drove home. He paused for a moment outside his front door, taking a deep breath, rehearsing the words hed say to his wife. He climbed the stairs and unlocked the door.
“Hello,” Philip said. “Eleanor, are you home?”
“I am,” his wife replied flatly. “Hello. Shall I fry the chops, then?”
Philip had promised himself he would be direct, firm, no beating around the busha man of action! It was time to end this double life while his mistresss warmth still lingered on his lips, before the usual routine swallowed him whole again.
“Eleanor,” Philip said, clearing his throat. “Ive come to tell you we need to separate.”
The news was met with unsettling calm. Eleanor wasnt one to lose her cool. Years ago, Philip had even nicknamed her “Eleanor the Ice Queen” for it.
“What do you mean?” she asked, standing in the kitchen doorway. “Should I not fry the chops?”
“Thats up to you,” Philip said. “If you want to, go ahead. If not, dont. Im leaving. For another woman.”
Most wives would react with furymaybe even a flying frying pan. But Eleanor wasnt like most.
“Oh, what a tragedy,” she murmured. “Did you fetch my boots from the cobblers?”
“No,” Philip admitted, taken aback. “If its that important, Ill go get them now!”
“Look at you” Eleanor muttered. “Thats always been you, Philip. Ask a fool to fetch boots, and he brings back the old ones.”
Philip was offended. The grand confrontation hed imagined was crumbling. Where were the tears, the shouting, the righteous rage? But what else could he expect from a woman as cold as Eleanor the Ice Queen?
“I dont think youre listening!” he snapped, raising his voice. “Im telling you Im leaving you for someone else, and youre going on about boots!”
“Exactly,” Eleanor said. “Unlike me, you can go wherever you want. Your boots arent at the cobblers. Whats stopping you?”
Theyd been married for years, yet Philip still couldnt tell if Eleanor was serious or mocking him. At first, it was that unshakable calm, that quiet strength, that had drawn him to hernot to mention her sharp beauty and practical mind. Eleanor was solid as granite, loyal and unmoved. But now Philip loved another. He loved with passion, sin, and sweetness! It was time to cut ties and start anew.
“And so, Eleanor,” he declared solemnly, with a hint of sorrow. “Im grateful for everything, but Im leaving. I love someone else. I dont love you anymore.”
“Remarkable,” Eleanor said without raising her voice. “Doesnt love me, poor thing. My mother fancied the neighbour, my father loved dominoes and whisky. And look what a brilliant woman I turned out to be.”
Arguing with Eleanor was pointless. Every word she spoke had weight. The fire in Philip dimmed, and he no longer wanted a fight.
“You really are something, Eleanor,” he said bitterly. “But I love someone else. With passion, sin, and sweetness. And Im leaving, understand?”
“Who is it, then?” his wife asked. “Tanya Moore, isnt it?”
Philip stiffened. A year ago, hed had a fling with Tanya, but he never imagined Eleanor knew about her!
“How do you know about her?” he started, then cut himself off. “Never mind. No, Eleanor, its not Moore.”
Eleanor yawned.
“Then its Sandra Clarke? You went back to her?”
A chill ran down Philips spine. Sandra had also been his lover once, but that was in the past. If Eleanor knew, why hadnt she said anything? But of courseshe was a fortress, never revealing a thing.
“Wrong again,” Philip insisted. “Its not Clarke or Moore. Its someone else, wonderful, the love of my life. I cant live without her, and Im leaving. Dont try to stop me!”
“Then it must be Mabel,” Eleanor concluded. “Oh, Philip, Philip youre hopeless. Your big secret. The love of your lifeMabel Venton, thirty-five, one child, two miscarriages Am I right?”
Philip clutched his head. Shed nailed it! His affair *was* with Mabel.
“But how?” he stammered. “Who told you? Have you been spying on me?”
“Elementary, Philip,” Eleanor replied. “Ive been a gynaecologist for years. Ive examined half the women in this town, while youve only known a handful. One look is all it takes to know where youve been, you fool.”
Philip took a deep breath, trying to salvage his dignity.
“Suppose youre right!” he said defiantly. “Even if its Mabel, nothing changes. Im leaving.”
“You really are dim, Philip,” Eleanor sighed. “You couldve just asked. Besides, theres nothing special about hershes no different from the others. And I say that as a doctor. Have you seen your lovers medical history?”
“N-no,” he admitted.
“Right. First, go shower. Second, Ill ring Dr. Wilson tomorrow to see you without delay. Then well talk. What a disgracea gynaecologists husband with a sick woman!”
“What do I do, then?” Philip whined.
“Ill fry the chops,” Eleanor said, turning away. “You, wash up and do as you like. If you want a healthy woman, let me knowIll recommend someone”
