Husband ran off to Megan, then begged for another chance I said no.
Alright, Im to blame, Andrew muttered, but just
Just what, Andy? I prompted, trying to keep my voice steady.
Just sometimes a person cant control how they feel! he blurted. Its like breathing. You cant just stop breathing whenever you fancy, can you?
Exactly, I replied, surprised at the chill in my own tone. I cant
***
Everything started three weeks ago. Out of nowhere Andrew began buying new shirts not the cheap, practical ones he used to wear, but pricey ones. He signed up at a gym, even though for the past five years his most vigorous exercise had been a dash from the sofa to the fridge. Strangest of all, he stopped being jealous.
Before, the moment I stayed a halfhour later at work, the phone would ring: Where are you? Who are you with? When will you be home? Now there was nothing.
Even the night I got home at midnight after a corporate dinner, he merely mumbled something incoherent and turned his back to the wall. At first I was pleased finally hed grown up, stopped acting like a petulant, jealous boy. I even bragged to a friend:
Can you believe it? My husbands changed! At fortythree hes finally thinking about his health, and the jealousys gone. He trusts me, so there must be something good happening.
She gave me a strange look and stayed silent. I wish wed talked then; maybe Id have understood sooner.
I tried to be optimistic, convinced it was a midlife crisis, a desire to feel young again. I smiled when he did planks and pushups each morning.
Then I found a receipt in the pocket of his coat. Just a café slip: two cappuccinos, two slices of cheesecake, dated Tuesday, three oclock.
Tuesday, I thought. Thats the day he said hed be in meetings all day, not even have time for lunch
My heart clenched, but I brushed it off. Maybe it was a coffee with a colleague or a client treat these things happen.
Later, more receipts appeared, and a business card from a hair salon, not the one hes been to for fifteen years but a trendy place in the city centre. And a lingering scent Good heavens, why do men think their wives, after years of marriage, wont notice another mans aftershave?
Just a new client, he explained one evening. Shes a businesswoman, built a perfume boutique from scratch. Gave me some samples.
I believed him, because I wanted to. Eighteen years of marriage isnt a joke; its a whole life. We raised a daughter, whos now at university in another city. We bought a flat, built a cottage. His mother, now in heaven, had kissed my hands before she passed, thanking me for loving her son and making him happy.
Happy
***
Then that Saturday morning call. Andrew was in the shower, his phone on the bedside table, screen flashing Megan P.
Megan his first love, a story from the days when he still believed in forever. Twenty years had passed since she chose someone else and vanished from his world. I, naïve as ever, thought that chapter was closed.
I didnt answer. I just watched the screen blink. Seven rings, then a text: Ill wait there.
Everything fell into place the new shirts, the gym, the perfume, the café at three.
Shes back, isnt she? I asked, surprised at my calm. Megan, your ex, has returned?
Andrew shivered.
His face looked as if Id caught him redhanded, though there was nothing to catch.
Emily, listen if you think he stammered.
I think what? I chuckled. What am I thinking? That my husband gets a call from his ex? That he buys fancy shirts and hits the gym? That he drinks coffee at a café while claiming hes in meetings?
It was just a chance meeting shes divorced, back in town. We talked
Andrew, I cut in, stop. Were adults. Be honest do you still love her?
He fell silent. Seconds stretched. In that silence I heard exactly what I needed.
I tried, he finally exhaled. I swear, I tried. I thought it would pass. I thought I could love you again. Youre sensible, good. And she
And shes your first love, I finished for him. Your one true love. And Im just the spare tire, the consolation prize got it.
He didnt answer.
Fine then, I said, lets just get a divorce.
Andrew flinched again.
Emily, wait, dont be so quick maybe we can try
Try what? I snapped. Pretend nothing happened? Pretend you dont run off to see her? Pretend you dont think about her when you lie next to me? No, thank you. Go to her.
He gave me a long, bewildered look. Perhaps he truly didnt recognise me anymore. Id always been the easygoing, compliant partner, never shouting or staging scenes.
Golden wife, his mother used to call me.
Right, except he didnt want the golden one; he wanted the first, the one who drove him mad, the one who made his head spin.
***
Thank you, he said suddenly. Thank you for understanding.
We filed for divorce quickly, no drama. The flat went to our daughter, who was about to get married. I moved back in with my mother to our old twobedroom house. Andrew moved in with Megan.
Three months have passed. Im finally pulling myself together. Ive started a new job, taken up pottery, and Im going to the theatre and galleries with a friend.
Then Andrew called.
Em, hi his voice sounded lost. Can I come over? I need to talk.
I agreed, and about twenty minutes later he was at the door, holding a bunch of white chrysanthemums my favourite.
I was a fool, he said, handing me the flowers. A complete fool. Im sorry. I realised she isnt who I remembered, or maybe Im not who I thought I was. In any case, were strangers now. And you
What about me? I smiled.
Well, I just realised I miss you. I miss your calm, your care, the way you laugh at my stupid jokes, the coffee you brew each morning
Andrew, I interrupted. Are you out of your mind?
Emily! he pleaded. Give me another chance! Ive finally understood that you are my real happiness, not a ghost of the past.
I looked at him and thought how easy it would be to say yes, to let him back in, to pretend nothing had happened, to return to the life I knew.
But I no longer wanted to be a consolation prize, the person you return to when theres nowhere else to go. I didnt want to lie awake wondering if some other phantom from the past would ring my phone, reminding me of who I once was.
No, Andy, I said softly, Im sorry, but no. You made your choice back then.
