23November
I muttered something under my breath as I fumbled for the frontdoor key, Ill call her back, and slipped out into the drizzle that had turned the cobbles of Brixton slick.
Your lover was on the line, Ivy shouted from the kitchen, never taking her eyes off the pan where something familiar sizzled, as if it were a piece of our shared life that had always been on the stove.
I froze on the threshold. Twentyfive years of marriageour whole worldflashed before me in an instant. My house keys slipped from my hand, clattered onto the floor with a harsh metallic clang that cut through the sudden silence.
What are you talking about? A lover? My voice trembled, laying bare the fear and turmoil that have haunted me for months. My legs felt as if the ground were disappearing beneath me.
Emily, Ivy said finally, folding her arms across her chest. Your young secretary, I suppose? Shes twentyfive, says shes been seeing you for four months now. Congratulations, love.
The pain in her eyes was so raw it made me want to sink into the earth, or to wake up, convinced it was just a nightmare.
Ivy, Ill explain, I began, but the words caught in my throat.
Explain what? That youve been having fun with your secretary while I was dashing from doctor to doctor? Or that you lied, saying you were working late? she snapped, a hoarse laugh breaking through her tears.
The pan hissed louder, the smell of burnt meat filling the kitchen. Ivy turned off the gas as if that could stop the ache, the bitterness, the betrayal.
Do you know what the worst part is? she whispered, voice dropping to a hushed tone. I saw through it alllate meetings, endless business trips, all the excuses. I believed you, like a fool!
Darling, listen I took a step toward her, but she raised a hand, as if building an invisible wall.
Dont come close! she cried, tears glinting. God, how disgusting twenty years for nothing!
Please, I tried to steady my voice, lets talk calmly. Its complicated.
Complicated? Ivy laughed again, a laugh that sounded more like sobbing. Whats so complicated? Youve taken a young lover. Shes moved in. And me? She broke off, voice shaking, Im just an old woman who cant have children, is that it?
No, dont say that! I stepped forward, reaching for her.
She twisted away, and a sharp slap cracked the kitchens quiet.
Get out, she whispered, voice trembling. Get out of my house. If she can give you what I never could.
Ivy
Go! she hissed, grabbing the salt shaker and flinging it at me.
The grains scattered across the floor, glittering like tiny pearls in the lamplight. A bad omen, I thought.
Ill call her back, I mumbled, retreating toward the door.
Ivy turned to the window, shoulders shaking as if from cold, though the street outside was already warm.
In the hallway, hastily pulling on my overcoat, I heard muffled sobs. My hand froze on the doorknob. What could I possibly say to justify the betrayal?
The front door slammed shut. The empty flat fell into a deafening hush, broken only by the ticking of the wall clockour parents wedding giftcounting the seconds of a life that had once seemed eternal.
Ivy sank onto a kitchen chair, her gaze landing on the spilled salt. They say salt brings misfortune, she muttered, then burst into a hysterical laugh, as if the superstition explained why her world had shattered like those white crystals on the dark floor.
My phone buzzed in my coat pocket. A text from an unknown number: Sorry. I didnt want it to end like this. Emily.
Wretch, Ivy whispered, clutching the phone as if it burned. Little devil
Outside, rain began to patter, the first drops striking the curtains like someone playing a somber xylophone.
Ivy rose, mechanically grabbing a broom and dustpan. While she swept up the salt, a thought flickered through her mind: I never even asked whether shes expecting a boy or a girl
She paused, the dustpan clenched in her hand. The rain, the ticking clock, the saltall merged into a relentless stream, as if her entire existence now hinged on these minutiae. Nothing else remained.
I sat in my car, staring at the screen. Fifteen missed calls from Mumobviously Ivy, always doting on her daughterinlaw.
What now? I asked my reflection in the rearview mirror. The man in his midforties stared back, a mix of shame and resignation.
The phone buzzed again. Emily.
Yes, love
Where are you? her voice trembled, on the verge of breaking. I was so scared she was terrifying!
What? I asked, confused.
Your wife! She came to my office, caused a scene
What? When?
An hour ago, Emily sniffed. She screamed that Id ruined your family, threw papers at me they were the results of her tests.
I lowered my head onto the steering wheel, a groan escaping me.
I didnt know Emily continued, voice shaking. I truly didnt know you couldnt have kids. I thought you just didnt want them
Aye, I knew, a thought flickered. Knew and still
Come over, she pleaded. Im scared alone.
Im on my way, I muttered.
I turned the ignition, but the engine sputtered. The phone rang againthis time my mother.
Yes, Mum.
You fool! she roared. What have you done? Lost your conscience?
Mum
Shut up! Ivy is crying, barely holding herself together. After all these years and you youve thrown it all away for a fling!
She slammed the receiver. The car fell silent, the engine idling weakly. I stared at Ivys house, its windows glowing warmly. I could not go there. I could not go anywhere.
I killed the ignition. The car sighed and fell still. The silence around me grew deafening.
A short, sharp beep sounded from the handset.
Dammit, I muttered, pounding the steering wheel until my fingers ached.
A new message from Ivy: Divorce papers will be ready in a week. Collect your stuff this weekend. Im leaving.
I reread it over and over. Divorce. Twenty years. All crumbling.
Another call rangEmily again.
Are you coming? My stomach hurts
On my way! I snapped, twisting the wheel as if I could drive out of this nightmare.
The rain intensified, the wipers struggling. The city blurred into grey smeared across the windshield.
My phone buzzed once moreMum again, but I ignored it. What difference would it make? Everything was already falling apart.
A year ago, Emily had started as an intern at my firm, bright-eyed, hopefulmuch like Ivy had been in our university days. A casual office party, a fleeting touch, and the rest unfolded. I remembered lying to Ivy about late meetings while whisking Emily off to restaurants, buying flowers, feeling young again. I rented a flat for our secret meetings, watching her glow with plans of a future.
Fool, I thought, staring at the rainslick road. Old fool.
The phone rang again.
Its not Emily, Ivys voice said, oddly calm. Ive done a test. Guess what? Im expecting too.
The world seemed to freeze. A sudden crash, then darkness.
The doctors voice was flat: Heart attack, plus traumatic brain injury. Condition critical.
Ivy stood by the ICU window, watching the man tangled in tubes and wires. Emily sat beside her, her plump face buried in her hands, quiet sobs escaping.
Stop wailing, Ivy said coldly, not looking up. This isnt a drama.
Im sorry Emily whispered, wiping tears. Its just the baby
Right, the baby without a father, Ivy sneered. How funny. And Im childless. Lovely, isnt it?
Emily fell silent, eyes fixed on Ivys barely visible belly.
Did you get pregnant too? Ivy asked, a twisted smile forming. Twenty years of nothing, and nowboom! Must be nerves.
The heart monitor beeped softly. Outside, rain drummed against the panes, refusing to let anyone forget that life went on beyond these walls.
Ivys voice softened as she stared at the motionless man. I loved him from day one, thin and bespectacled, the one everyone teased. All the girls asked, What do you see in him? I saw the real him
Emily tugged at the curtain, as if something behind it could save her.
Then the wedding, the rings, the veil Mum even said, Shell be a good daughterinlaw. And I turned out to be the defective one.
Dont say that, Emily murmured, voice barely a rustle.
How should I speak? Ivy snapped, eyes sharp. Do you know how many doctors Ive seen? How many procedures? He kept telling me, Dont worry, love, well manage without children. He was lying. Plainly lying.
He loves you, Emily said, though her words felt hollow.
And when he gets you? Ivy laughed, a bitter, hoarse sound. Hes a cheat, thats all.
Emily flinched, covering her belly, as if shielding herself from the pain.
I thought we had love, she whispered, eyes downcast. He was so tender
And I am Ivy retorted, sarcasm dripping. The ambitious, childless wife?!
No! Im not Emily stammered, lost for words.
You know whats funniest? Ivy interjected. I almost understand you. Young, in love you lost your head over a successful man. I was the same. The only twist is, the man is my husband.
In the ward, Andrewa faint movementshifted slightly. Both women leaned forward, but the room fell silent again.
What shall we do? Emily asked, breaking the hush.
What will you do? Ivy asked, rubbing her forehead. Andrew will have two heirs or heirtobe. Does it matter?
And him? Emily pressed, eyes wide.
What about him? Ivy replied, bitter. Hell choosean old wife with a handicap or a young lover with a bump.
Im not competing, Emily began, trying to pull herself out of the words that trapped her.
Youre competing, Ivy cut. All of you are. Listen, girl twenty years are mine. You just jumped onto the wrong train. This isnt your route, not your station.
A nurse whispered from behind, Visiting hours are over.
Yes, of course, Ivy said, standing. Lets go, love. Ill show you where the tea machine is. We have a long night ahead.
A week later, I awoke in a hospital bed to see Ivy sitting beside me, a hand gently on my stomach. My mind raced: How did I miss this?
Ivy my voice rasped, foreign to me.
She startled, eyes widening.
Well, love, youre back from heaven flirting with angels? she teased, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
Sorry
Dont start, Ivy snapped. Your solicitor is here. I wont split the flatkeep the car, youll need it. Ive quit my job.
What? I tried to rise, panic flooding me. Why?
Im moving back to Luton, to my parents. The airs cleaner, better for the baby.
Ivy, no
Its necessary, Andrew. Ive had time to think while you lay here. I was a foolish old fool for believing you. Not because I trusted you, but because I was scared to live without you.
I love you, I whispered, hoping the words could mend anything.
Love? she nodded, not looking at me. Maybe, in your own way. As a habit, a part of life. But I wont be a habit any longer, understand?
She stood, brushed off her dress as if shaking off a burden that wasnt hers.
Emily visited daily. She cried, said shed give up any claim. Silly thing I gave her a good gynaecologists number and a realtor to find a bigger flat. A onebedroom wont do with a child.
You what? I stammered, eyes wide.
Whats so shocking? she shrugged. Were now in the same boat. Or rather, the same position funny, isnt it? All those years of emptiness and now two of us at once. They say misfortune never comes aloneneither does happiness.
Outside, a spring thunderstorm rolled, tearing the day into fragments.
Dont see me off, Ivy said, leaning over to kiss my forehead, a simple, final gesture. Ive called a taxi, packed my things. Sign the divorce papers when youre better. Wheres the hurry now?
Ivy
Shell always be part of me, in love, trembling but now Ive let go. It feels like Ive inhaled fresh air. Thank you for that.
She closed the door quietly behind her. The faint scent of her perfume lingeredthe same perfume Id given her each wedding anniversary.
I stared out the window where the spring storm mixed rain with sleet. In this damp March town, two women now carried my children in their hearts. Two different worlds, yet somehow alike. Two separate paths, one story.
I wondered, Will the children become friends? Or will they share everything else?
