Rushed Goodbye: A Farewell from the Car and the Return Home
He stepped out of the car and tenderly said goodbye to his mistress before heading home. When he arrived, he lingered for a moment outside the flat, wondering how to break the news to his wife. He climbed the stairs and unlocked the door.
“Hello,” said Edward. “You home, Beatrice?”
“I am,” his wife replied flatly. “Hello. Should I start frying the steaks?”
Edward had promised himself hed be directfirm and decisive, the way a man ought to be! It was time to end his double life before his mistresss kisses lost their warmth, before he was swallowed up again by the monotony of everyday routine.
“Beatrice,” Edward cleared his throat, “Ive come to tell you we need to separate.”
Beatrice took the news with surprising calm. Shed always been unshakable, which was why Edward affectionately called her “Frosty Bea.”
“Really?” Beatrice asked from the kitchen doorway. “So, you dont want me to fry the steaks, then?”
“Up to you,” Edward said. “Fry them if you like, dont if you dont. Im leavingIm with someone else.”
Most wives wouldve thrown something at their husband after a declaration like that. But Beatrice wasnt like most wives.
“Well, you and your dramatics,” she replied. “Did you pick up my boots from the cobblers?”
“No,” Edward faltered. “If it matters, I can fetch them now!”
“Oh, Edward,” Beatrice sighed. “Send a fool to fetch boots, and youll get the old ones back.”
Edward bristled. This wasnt going how hed imagined. Where was the emotion? But what else could he expect from a wife nicknamed Frosty Bea?
“Beatrice, are you even listening?” Edward snapped. “Im leaving. Im moving in with another woman, and all you care about are boots!”
“Right,” Beatrice said. “Unlike me, you can go wherever you please. Your boots arent at the cobblers. Youve got nothing holding you back.”
Theyd been together a long time, yet Edward still couldnt tell if she was serious or sarcastic. Back then, hed fallen for Beatrice because of her gentle nature, her knack for avoiding conflict, and her way with few words. Plus, her homemaking skills and looks hadnt hurt.
Beatrice was steady, loyal, and cold as an anchor. But now Edward loved someone elsea burning, forbidden, intoxicating passion! It was time to lay his cards on the table and start fresh.
“Beatrice, I want to thank you for everything, but Im leaving because I love another woman. Not you.”
“What a shock!” Beatrice exclaimed. “You dont love mewhat a revelation! My mum fancied the neighbour, my dad loved dominoes and whiskey. Look how I turned out.”
Edward knew arguing with Beatrice was pointless. Every word from her carried weight. His initial resolve wavered, and he didnt want a row.
“Youre wonderful, Beatrice,” Edward said, resigned. “But I love someone elsepassionately, desperately. Im leaving, understand?”
“Someone else?” she asked. “Is it Emily Foster?”
Edward froze. A year ago, hed had a fling with Emily, but he never thought Beatrice knew!
“How did you?” he stammered, then stopped. “Never mind. Its not her.”
Beatrice yawned.
“Then it must be Sophie Alton. Fancy running off with her?”
A chill ran down Edwards spine. Hed also had a thing with Sophie, but that was ages ago. If Beatrice knew, why hadnt she said anything? Rightshe was ironclad, unshaken by anything.
“No, not Sophie or Emily. Its another woman, the one I dream about. I cant live without her, and Im going. Dont try to stop me!”
“Then its got to be Sarah,” Beatrice muttered. “Oh, Edward what an open secret! Your dream woman is Sarah Henshaw. Thirty-five, one kid, two miscarriages Am I right?”
Edward clutched his head. Shed nailed it! He was indeed seeing Sarah Henshaw.
“But how did you know?” he sputtered. “Did someone tell you? Were you following me?”
“Simple, Edward,” Beatrice said. “Im a gynaecologist. Ive examined nearly every woman in this town, while youve only managed a few. All it took was seeing what I needed to catch you out.”
Edward straightened up.
“Suppose youre right! Even if it is Sarah, it changes nothing. Im going with her.”
“Youre daft, Edward,” Beatrice said. “You couldve at least asked me first! Honestly, theres nothing special about Sarahsame as the others, medically speaking. Seen your muses health records?”
“N-no,” Edward admitted.
“Right then. Go shower. Tomorrow, Ill ring Dr. Whitmorehell see you at the clinic, no waiting,” Beatrice said. “Then well talk. Honestly, a doctors husband should know better than to pick an unhealthy fling!”
“What should I do?” Edward asked, defeated.
“Ill fry the steaks,” Beatrice said. “You go shower and do what you want. If youre after the perfect woman, no complications, just askI can recommend someone”
