I still remember the summer when my old schoolmate, Tom Whitaker, confessed something that still makes my pulse falter when I think of it. He stood by the settee, eyes fixed on some distant point, and said quietly, Im sorry, Stephen, but Ive fallen for your wife. It was as if the words had slipped out against his will.
I froze, the air growing thick around me. A flood of feeling crossed my face, and for a moment I could barely breathe.
I swear there was never anything between us, Tom rushed on, his voice edged with panic, Emily doesnt even suspect a thing.
I said nothing. Time seemed to stand still in that cramped livingroom.
Then why tell me now? I asked, my tone flat and cold.
Were friends, arent we? he replied, still avoiding my gaze. I thought youd counsel me, his voice trembled, betraying the turmoil inside.
You want advice from me? I chuckled bitterly. Youve been with my wife and now expect my blessing? Brilliant!
No, youve got it wrong! he snapped. If I wanted her, Id have taken her. You know me. But I cant. Youre like a brother to me.
A brother? I rose from the sofa, the words sounding absurd. Remember how you ran off with Lucy from Jamess house back in school? You swore wed be mates forever then, too.
He laughed, a hollow sound. That was ages ago. Emily is different.
Different, yes. I said, the edge in my voice sharpening. Shes my wife, and shes pregnant, if you havent noticed. So get out of our lives.
Seriously? he scoffed. Youd betray our friendship for a woman?
For my family, I replied, the distinction clear. And you cant accuse me of betrayal when you were the one who started this.
Wasnt it you who first nudged me? Take Emma to the cinema, Im busy, Help her with the repair, Drive her to her parents. You handed me your own wife! I snapped, feeling the old need to be needed rise again. Did you ever realise?
Leave, I said, flinging the front door open. And dont come back. Forget us.
Alright, he muttered, a strange calm in his voice. I expected a different kind of talk, but now my conscience feels lighter.
The moment the door slammed, he dialled Emily.
Hey, we need to meet. Its important, he said.
Is something wrong? she sounded worried. Come over, Stephens still at work. Well wait together.
I cant. He he told me Im not welcome in your house
How? Why?
I dont know. I thought youd explain
Im not sure what you mean, Emily replied, flustered. Lets meet in the park then
We met beneath the oaks, she listening without interruption while Tom recounted how Stephen had suddenly exploded, accusing him of some vague transgression and speaking of a nonexistent affair with Emily. He told no lies, just omitted the crucial details.
Your husband thinks Im ruining your family, Tom finished, fixing his stare on her bewildered eyes.
Thats nonsense, she whispered.
Stephens just jealous, he said magnanimously. You never noticed?
He saw the puzzle forming in her mind: sudden questions from her husband, his annoyance with her friends, constant suspiciona fertile ground for doubt.
What should I do? she asked, voice trembling.
Talk to him. Tell him hes wrong. Say were only friends.
He wont believe you.
Then say nothing, he whispered, gently touching her hand. Stay with me tonight. Let him feel what its like to be alone.
Emily looked at him, fear and conflict flashing in her gazedoubt, fear, resentment toward her husband, and something new, dangerous.
Fine, she said finally. But Im counting on your integrity
The first step was taken.
All evening Tom played the understanding friend. We shared tea, recalled funny school stories, and he caught her lingering, confused look, now tinged with curiosity.
When she fell asleep on the sofa, he didnt rouse her.
The next morning Stephen called, his voice hoarse from lack of sleep.
Emily there?
Yes, she answered without blinking, calm. Shes decided not to come back.
Silence hung heavy. I imagined Stephens face and felt a grim satisfaction.
Tell her the door is closed. Forever, Stephen said, as if choosing his words carefully.
He hung up.
Emily woke to the conversation.
What happened? she asked.
Stephen he doesnt want to see you anymore. He said you made your choice.
She broke down. I held her, murmuring consolations I didnt feel. Why did she weep for a past happiness that I had so easily shattered?
A week later Emily packed her belongings.
Im going to my mothers, she said without looking at me. I need to be alone, think.
Of course, I replied, nodding. Go.
She left, turning back with a final, bitter glance.
I no longer believe in any of you, she whispered.
***
I was left alone in a hollow flat. The silence pressed, turning thoughts inside out.
The plan, so clear and elegant, cracked. She was supposed to be torn between us, I intended to torment Stephen, to keep her close, to relish his humiliation. Yet she left and ruined everything.
***
I flopped onto the sofa, staring at the ceiling, memories of childhood flooding back.
Stephen, the eternal lucky one! He always scored the winning goal, breezed through exams, attracted the girls admiration. Everything seemed to come easy for him.
Jealousy had festered for years, a quiet, corrosive ache that finally turned to hatred.
Life scattered us, and a chance encounter brought me back to himnow a successful entrepreneur, a beautiful wife, a child on the way. His contented smile, his calm confidence about the future, stirred the old, unspoken malice.
I could no longer bear it. An unbearable urge rose: to knock the pride off that lucky bloke, to snatch even a fragment of his bliss, however briefly.
I never imagined it would be so simple
***
A call shattered the silence. An unknown number. A voice announced an accident. Emily had been in a crash on her way to her mothers.
I sat, stunned, unable to move. This was no longer a cunning plot, no revenge. It was catastrophe.
***
Stephen, hearing the news, rushed to the hospital, staying day and night by her side.
When Emily, through tears and pain, finally told Stephen everythinghow shed been coaxed into believing her husbands jealousy was baseless, how shed been urged to stay just to talk so I could teach him a lessonhe squeezed her hand, his earlier anger now gone. He cared only that she was alive, that he might not lose her forever.
A few days later Stephen returned home to change.
In the stairwell stood Tom, his face pale, eyes darting.
How is she? Stephen asked, voice flat, thinking of the lost child.
Everythings over, Stephen replied, the words heavy with loss.
Toms skin turned even whiter. He imagined Emily gone.
I didnt mean this! he burst, words spilling like a flood. I was jealous all my life! You had everything, and I had nothing! I watched you be happy and couldnt stand it! I thought I thought I could ruin you, break your family, make you suffer! I never meant for her to die!
Stephen listened in silence as Toms frantic confession poured out, then said slowly,
I never expected anything good from you, but you surprised me. You finally owned up. Does it ease your mind?
Im sorry, Tom croaked. I never imagined it would go this far
Think more often, Stephen retorted dryly. They say it helps. Right, thats all, goodbye.
He vanished into the hallway.
Tom stood alone, rooted, unsure which way to turn. At last, he shuffled slowly away, disappearing into the dimness, a man left with only the echo of his own regret.
