Are you heading to her again?
Ethel fixed her gaze on Andrew as he struggled with his shoes.
Think about the kids, Ethel. Think about the children, not her, Andrew muttered, pulling his laces taut. How long are we going to keep circling this?
Ethel stayed silent, her lips a thin line. So much swirled in her throat it formed a painful knot.
Before we were married you thought this was fine, Andrew went on, standing up and snatching his coat from the rack. You knew I had children. I told you everything from the start. You said you understood. And now what? Fits of hysteria? Interrogations?
Ethel clenched her teeth harder. Andrew draped the coat over his shoulders and, without waiting for an answer, walked out. The lock clicked shut, leaving her alone.
A few seconds stretched before Ethel could even shift. Her legs felt like lead. She collapsed onto the sofa in the living room, turned on a mindless sitcom, letting the background chatter drown out her thoughts.
Theyd been together three years, two of them married. Shed known from the beginningdivorce, two kids, a boy and a girl. Andrew had mentioned them on their third date. Shed smiled then, saying it wasnt a problem, that she understood, that children werent an obstacle.
Now those words seemed naïve, foolish.
She covered her eyes with her palm, inhaled sharply. Holding back tears grew harder; her chest tightened as if an invisible slab pressed down on it.
Weeks of endurance finally snapped. Twice a weekTuesday and SaturdayAndrew vanished to his ex-wifes house. He claimed it was to see the children, but he lingered for dinner, lingered with Olivia.
Ethel knew she was being foolish. She trusted him, or at least tried to convince herself she did. Yet a vague dread knotted her stomach, making her feel sick.
When Andrew left, the flat fell silent. She fell into selfreproach, berating herself for not standing firm, for yielding to his promises, for staying quiet when she should have shouted.
She snatched her phone and typed a frantic message to her friend.
Hes there again.
The phone buzzedan incoming call. Grace.
Hello? Ethel answered, forcing steadiness into her voice.
Ethel, what are you doing? Grace cut straight to it. How long will you put up with this? Hes cheating you. Its obvious.
No, Grace, you dont get it Ethel began, but Grace interrupted.
I get it perfectly. He spends two evenings a week at Olivias, stays until nightfall. And youre going to tell me theyre just playing LEGO with the kids?
Ethel ran a hand over her face. She knew Grace was right, but admitting it out loud would mean admitting her marriage was a farce.
He says theres nothing between them, that hes only there for the children, Ethel whispered.
Darling, youre so naïve, Grace sighed. Open your eyes. A decent man doesnt spend half an evening at his exs. He picks the kids up, takes them for a walk, and brings them back. Andrews sitting in her kitchen, eating her borscht, probably holding her hand when the kids arent looking.
Grace, enough, Ethel clenched the handset.
Enough? Fine. Just remember what I said. Youll still be with him, and when you finally do, dont say I didnt warn you.
The call ended. Ethel stared at the ceiling as someone on TV laughed boisterously, but it didnt reach her.
Andrew stumbled back home close to midnight. She heard him shedding his coat in the hallway, heard the splash as he entered the bathroom. He lay down beside her, and a whiff of foreign perfumesweet, cloyingfilled the room.
She didnt ask why he was late. She had no strength left. Andrew, trying to be casual, spoke first.
Sorry its late. Lily needed a craft for nursery, so I helped. She made a pinecone cow. It turned out funny. He said, already closing his eyes.
Ethel nodded in the darkness, even though he couldnt see her.
The pattern repeated for monthsTuesday, Saturday, exit, return, scent of another womans perfume, flimsy excuses.
Then Andrew grew sullen, withdrawn. He could sit for hours staring at his phone, brow furrowed. Ethel tried to pry, but he brushed her off with muttered nonsense and retreated to another room.
A couple of weeks later he dropped a bombshell.
Listen, were going on a double date Friday.
Ethel raised an eyebrow.
With whom?
With Olivia and her new boyfriend.
The weight on Ethels shoulders lifted like a stone dropped. Olivia had a new man? So Andrew wasnt with his ex? He hadnt been cheating? All her fears were unfounded?
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She turned to Andrew, wrapped her arms around his neck.
Of course, Ill go.
Friday arrived quickly. Ethel bought a new dressa skyblue sheath that clung to her shape. She wanted to look her best, to show Olivia she was worthy of Andrew, that she was the right choice.
They met at a cosy café on the other side of town, wooden tables, soft lighting. Olivia was already seated with a man in his early forties, tall, athletic, with an easy grin. He introduced himself as Max.
Hi, Im Max, he said, shaking Andrews hand.
Ethel felt a flicker of optimism. The evening should pass peacefully; theyd chat and go their separate ways.
It didnt.
All night Andrew behaved as if he were battling for Olivias attention. He constantly interrupted Max, flaunting how well he knew Olivia.
Max, how about a pepper pizza? Max suggested.
Olivia doesnt like spice, Andrew interjected.
Im aware, Max replied calmly. We already discussed it. You cut me off before I could say it was for us. Lets pick something else for Olivia.
Andrew kept pushing.
Remember that holiday we took to the coast with the kids? he blurted, ignoring Max. Little Milo brought a jellyfish to the shore, thought it was a toy.
Olivia nodded, irritation visible.
Andrew, that was ages ago, she said, trying to steer the conversation away.
Andrew ignored her, launching story after story about the children, about choosing a pram, about sleepless nights when their son had colic.
Ethel sat mute, gripping a glass of water. Every word Andrew spat hit a raw nerve. Olivia looked uncomfortable; her eyes flicked to Max, pleading for a pause that never came.
Ethel realized the truth: Andrew hadnt let go of his ex. He clung to their shared past, to the children, to memories. She was the spare part, the temporary substitute.
Her phone buzzedan automated bank call. She pretended to take a call from her mother, muttering that something urgent had come up.
Sorry, I have to go. Its important. she said, hanging up.
No one tried to stop her. Andrew didnt even look up. Ethel fled the café, hailed a cab, and sped home.
Back in her flat she hauled a large suitcase and began packing. She could no longer endure his behaviour.
Andrew returned an hour later, angry, dissatisfied. He saw the suitcase at her feet.
Whats happening? he demanded.
Ethel lifted her gaze. Her eyes were dry; the tears had dried among the sweaters and jeans.
Im leaving, she said simply.
Where? he asked, frowning.
Anywhere but here, she replied, pulling on her coat. Tonights double date opened my eyes. You still love Olivia, or at least you cant let her go. I dont know which is worse.
What are you talking about? Andrew began, but Ethel raised a hand.
Stop. Stop lying. I saw how you acted. You tried to claim her as yours in front of Max, making a spectacle of the whole night. I was the extra.
Andrew fell silent.
I wont be a backup, Andrew, she continued, gripping the suitcase handle. Im done. Im leaving.
Ethel, wait, he pleaded.
No, she shook her head. I love you, but that love has burned out. Ill keep whatever dignity I have left.
She crossed the threshold. Andrew watched her go, unmoving, offering no protest, no plea, no explanation.
Ethel caught a cab and headed to her parents house. Through the nightlit street she stared out the window, the city lights flickering, and thought of one thing: at last, she was free.
