She only wanted to see who hed left her for…
Parsheen strode straight into the kitchen in his coat and sat at the table.
*I love another woman. Shes expecting my child. Im leaving to be with her,* he said without preamble.
Vita turned off the tap and faced her husband.
*That girl who sells apples at the market stall? Tonya, isnt it?* she asked, eerily calm.
*You knew?* Parsheens head snapped up.
*Darling, youre a terrible liar. Of course I knew. Tell medo you love her, or are you just leaving because of the baby?*
*Im sorry.* His head dropped.
*»What about the ten years we spent together? Do they mean nothing? What about me?»* her eyes screamed, but Vita stayed silent.
*Are you planning to marry her?*
*Not yet.*
*Then lets keep things normal at the department. I dont want whispers in the corridors.*
*Agreed. So, shall I go?* He stood.
Vita turned back to the sink, turned the water on, and watched it until he was gone.
He left quicklyonly took the essentials. Maybe hed come back?
She turned off the tap, sat in the chair hed just vacated, and let her head fall onto her folded arms. But she didnt cry.
***
She hadnt cried a month earlier, either, when her friend told her shed seen Parsheen with another woman.
*A student?* Vita had asked. *They fall for him all the time. What do they even see in him?*
*No. The girl sells fruit at the stall opposite the college. Tonya. Came from the countryside, lives in a bedsit on Churchill Street. Twenty-three,* her friend had rattled off, precise as a detective in some old BBC drama.
*How do you even know all this?*
*Small town. A friend of mine lives in that houseLisa Sansom. Remember her? Your Parsheens there all the time.*
*I dont. So thats where he goes, not extra lectures.*
Seeing was believing. The next day, Vita followed him. She waited by the pillar in the college foyer, timing it perfectly.
When he left, she trailed him, careful not to stare. He mightve felt her gaze. She wanted to keep her dignitynot let him think shed stoop to spying. She just wanted to see whod replaced her.
He stopped near Tonyas stall. A short queue had formedthree people. The girl, in a jumper and jeans, weighed fruit deftly. When she bent to the crates, her thick plait swung forward, loose strands falling over her face. Shed puff them away with a quick breath. A sweet, simple face, dimples when she smiled. She served customers patiently, but her dark eyes kept flicking to Parsheen. *»Probably shortchanging them. Maybe I should call Trading Standards?»* Vita thought bitterly.
The last old woman inspected each apple meticulously before dropping it into Tonyas held-out bag.
*Enough,* the woman finally said.
*Take some plums too. Sweet and softgood for jam,* Tonya offered.
The woman prodded a few, shook her head.
*No, just these. How much?*
The bag weighed nearly a kilo, but Tonya named a ludicrously small sum. The old woman brightened, paid, and hurried off before the girl changed her mind.
*»Pitying pensioners! Clever. Write it off as spoilage. Or is this all a performance for Parsheen?»*
Vita passed that stall daily, even eyed the plums. But shed never noticed the girl. Yet Parsheen had.
The queue gone, he approached Tonya. Vita saw how the girl looked at him. *»God incarnate to her. Nearly a PhD, after all.»* Tonya adjusted his collar, brushed invisible dust from his shoulders. The tender gesture stabbed Vita. Shed thought it was a fling. But this was love.
She couldnt see Parsheens face but knew his expression matched Tonyas. Before they noticed her, she turned away.
That night, at home, she finally wept.
***
Shed noticed him at college first. Quiet, serious, never at parties, few friends, indifferent to girls. Handsome, if not for the brooding scowl. There was something enigmatic about hima modern-day Heathcliff.
Once, she sat beside him in a lecture.
*Bored?* shed asked.
He looked at her and smiled. His whole face changed. *»He is beautiful,»* shed thought. After that, they sat together often, then he walked her home.
*What do you even see in him?* a jealous friend had asked.
*Best you dont know, or youd steal him,* Vita replied.
They took it slow. But by final year, they were close, and married straight after graduation. His parents werent at the weddingdead in a crash years before. That explained the gloom.
But in bed, he was tender. Afterward, hed recite Keats, Auden, Eliot. He read beautifully. Vita listened, heart clenched. The words, his voicethey unraveled her.
Shed longed for a child but could only hope for a miracle. As a girl, shed fallen through ice. The doctors said shed likely never conceive. Ten years with Parsheen, still no miracle. Hed soothe her*well adopt when youre ready.* But she wanted her own. Could she love anothers?
After college, they both stayed on as lecturers.
Lately, their marriage had settled into friendship. Always togetherhome, work. They knew each other inside out. For Vita, that closeness mattered. But AlexanderParsheenwanted passion, fire, blood racing. And a child, perhaps. So hed found a simple girl, uncomplicated, whod give him that. The sturdy, fertile type.
When Vita learned about the baby, jealousy pricked her. Not because hed strayedbut because of the child. Hed have a son or daughter. Shed never hold her own, never know that joy.
Well, if she couldnt bear one, let another do it for her. Against a child, she had no argument. Maybe he needed simple, uncomplicated. What use was clever, barren Vita? Did he recite poetry to Tonya too?
At the department, nothing changed. They still talked. Only now, they walked home separatelyone or the other inventing reasons to stay late or leave early. No one questioned it.
Parsheen moved into Tonyas bedsit. Vita hoped hed come back. He didnt. Leaving college, she avoided looking toward the market.
She found out about the baby between lectures. He approached her, eyes shining, and whispered. She forced congratulations. He rushed to the hospital.
That evening, he came to her flat sobbing. Tonya was dead. A stroke. Vita held him.
*The babys alive. A girl. What will you do?*
*Ill take her,* he said hoarsely.
*And work?*
*My aunt will help at first. Ill go part-time.*
By spring, the aunt left*garden to tend, and the girls grown.* Parsheen hired a nanny, fired her the next day. Came home to a crying baby, the woman glued to her phone.
Days later, he called Vita.
*Please. I cant do this.*
*You left me, and now youre asking for help. Thats rich, Parsheen.*
*Just come.*
Grudges were grudges, but the child was innocent. The moment Vita held the girl, she forgot her anger. Loved her instantly. Parsheen named her AliceTonya had loved Adele, hummed her songs constantly. Alice Alexandra Parsheen. It had a nice ring.
At first, Vita came overcooked, cleaned, walked Alice, babysat during his lectures. Then the housemates complained: the tenant was dead, a stranger and child now occupied her room. He was told to leave.
*Pack your things. You and Alice are moving in with me,* Vita said without hesitation.
At first, they slept apart. When Alice first said *Mama*, Vitas heart nearly burst.
One evening, returning from work, she heard Alices gigglesand Parsheens laughter. She froze in the doorway. The toddler wobbled toward him; he caught her, tossed her up. Both laughed. Vita had never heard him laugh before. He looked so happy it brought tears. She sniffed.
*How long have you been there?* he asked. *Look!* He set Alice down. She tottered to him.
All night, he marveled at her first steps. That night, they were close again. He read to her, just like before, and Vitas heart ached with joy.
*Did you read to her too?* she ventured.
She expected him to shut down.
*Once. She didnt understand,* he said after a pause.
Alice grew, started nursery. She looked more like Tonya every day.
One afternoon, Vita and Parsheen passed the market. A different woman now sold applesolder, ginger-haired, apron filthy over a thick jacket. No customers. She smoked, chipped nail polish edged with grime. She winked at Parsheen.
*Lets go,* he said, disgusted.
That evening, as Vita washed dishes, he hugged her from behind.
*Thank you. Without you… I adore you both. My girls.*
*Without you and Tonya, thered be no Alice.*
Vita forgave. If shed held a grudge, thered be no Alice, no husband. A different story. A lonelier life.
She pitied Tonya. Gone too soon. But shed left Alice. One day, theyd tell her about her birth mother. Or maybe not. Vita had raised her, loved her as her own. That was enough.
