Ill call her, I muttered, backing toward the front door.
Your lover called. She sends her regards, Irene shouted from the kitchen, never taking her eyes off the pan where something familiar sizzledsomething as ordinary as the life wed built together.
I froze on the kitchen threshold. Twentyfive yearsan entire lifeflashed before me in an instant. The house keys slipped from my fingers, clattered onto the floor with a harsh metallic clang that seemed to pierce the quiet.
What are you talking about? What lover? My voice trembled, laying bare the fear and turmoil that had been gathering for months. It felt as if the ground were giving way beneath me.
Ethel. Your junioryour assistant, I suppose? Irene finally turned, arms crossed over her chest. Shes only twentyfive, says shes been seeing me for four months now. Congratulations, love.
The pain in her eyes made me want to disappear, either sink into the earth or wake up from a nightmare.
Irene, Ill explain I began, but the words stuck in my throat.
Explain? What exactly are you going to explain, Andrew? That you were having a laugh with your secretary while I was running from doctor to doctor? Or that you lied, saying you were working late?
The pan hissed, and the smell of burnt meat filled the kitchen. Irene turned off the gas as if that could stop the ache, the bitterness, the betrayal.
You know whats the most disgusting? she whispered. I saw through it allyour latenight calls, the business trips I believed you, stupidly, like a fool.
Darling, listen I stepped toward her, but she thrust her hand out, as if erecting an invisible barrier.
Dont come any closer! tears flashed in her eyes. Heavens, how filthy twenty years of loyalty, wasted!
Enough, I tried to steady my voice, lets talk calmly. Its complicated.
Complicated? Irene laughed, but her laughter cracked with sobs. Whats complicated? Youve taken a young lover. Shes come in. And me, her voice broke, Im just an old woman who cant have children, is that it?
Dont say that! I took another step, reaching to embrace her.
She jerked away, and a sharp slap cracked the kitchens silence.
Leave, she whispered, voice trembling. Leave and go to her. If she could give you what I never could.
Eileen?
Get out! She snatched the salt shaker from the table and flung it at me.
Salt scattered across the floor, white crystals sparkling under the lamp. Bad omen, I thought, as the clink of the shaker echoed.
Ill call her, I muttered again, edging toward the door.
Irene turned to the window, shoulders shivering as if from cold, though the night outside was warm.
In the hallway, pulling my coat on hastily, 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 flat fell eerily silent, broken only by the ticking of the wall clockwedding gift from my parentscounting the seconds of our joint life for twenty years.
Irene sank into a kitchen chair, eyes landing on the spilled salt. They say it brings misfortune, she mused, then burst into a hysterical laugh, as if the shattered crystals mirrored her shattered world.
My phone buzzed in my coat pocket. An unknown number texted: Sorry. I didnt want it to end like this. Ethel.
Wretch, Irene hissed, clutching the phone. Little monster
Rain began to patter against the window, the first drops tapping the sill like a sad violin.
She rose, grabbed a broom and dustpan, and while sweeping up the salt, a foolish thought crossed her mind: I never even asked whether she was expecting a boy or a girl
She halted, the dustpan clenched in her hand. The rain, the ticking, the saltall merged into a relentless stream of minutiae, as if her whole life now existed only in these small details.
I sat in my car, staring at the screen. Fifteen missed calls from my mothermy mother, of course, calling his motherinlaw. She always adored her daughterinlaw.
What now? I asked the reflection in the rearview mirror. A weary fortyfiveyearold man stared back, judgement in his eyes.
The phone buzzed again. Ethel. The name lit up the display.
Yes, love
Where are you? Her voice quivered, on the brink of tears. I was so scared she was terrifying!
Who? I asked, confused.
Your wife! She turned up at work, made a scene
What? When? I sat up straight.
An hour ago, Ethel sobbed. She screamed that Id ruined your family, threw papers at me They were her medical results.
I dropped my head onto the steering wheel, a groan escaping me. I didnt know Ethel continued. I truly didnt know you couldnt have children. I thought you just didnt want them
Ah, I knew, a thought flickered. Knew and still
Come home, she pleaded. Im scared alone.
Im on my way, I muttered.
I turned the ignition, but before the car could move, the phone rang againmy mother.
Hello, Mum.
Ah, you you dog! she barked. What have you done? Lost your conscience?
Mum
Silence! Irene is crying, barely holding herself together. Twenty years together and youve thrown it all away! Youve been with a young girl!
No, Mum
Im done with you! Until you get your head straight, dont call, dont show up!
She slammed the handset. I let the phone fall to my lap, feeling its weight like a stone. The engine hummed softly.
I stared at Irenes houselights warm, invitingbut I couldnt go there. Not now.
I killed the engine. The car sighed and fell silent. I was left alone in a deafening quiet.
A short buzz sounded from the phone. Damn, I whispered, slamming the steering wheel until my fingers cramped.
Another message popped up: Divorce papers will be ready in a week. Collect your things at the weekend. Im leaving.
I read it over and over. Divorce. Twenty years. All in ruins.
A fresh call cameEthel.
Are you coming? My stomach hurts
Im on my way! I snapped the wheel, desperate to escape the nightmare.
Rain hammered harder, wipers struggling, the city blurred into grey streaks. My phone buzzed againprobably Mum again. I didnt even look.
A year ago Ethel started as an intern at my firm. Fresh, brighteyed, full of hopemuch like Irene had been when we first met at university. Then came the office party, a random touch, and the affair began. I recalled lying to Irene about late nights at work while I whisked Ethel to restaurants, bought her flowers, feeling young again.
Id rented a flat for our secret meetings, watching her glow with happiness, dreaming of a future together.
Fool, I thought, staring at the slick road. Old fool.
The phone rang again.
Not you, Ethel, Irenes voice cut in, oddly calm. Ive had a test. Guess what? Im also expecting.
Everything seemed to freeze. The brakes screeched, a harsh impact, darkness.
Myocardial infarction, the doctor announced flatly, plus traumatic brain injury. Condition critical.
Irene stood by the ICU window, watching my frail form tangled in tubes. Ethel sat beside her, her face hidden in her hands, quiet sobs escaping.
Stop wailing, Irene said without looking up. This isnt a drama.
Sorry Ethel whispered, wiping tears, just the baby
A baby without a father, how quaint, Irene remarked with a bitter smile. And Im without a husband. Lovely, isnt it?
You you too? Ethel asked, eyes drifting to Irenes barely noticeable belly.
Got knocked up as well? Irene laughed. Twenty years of nothing, then a sudden boomprobably nerves.
The heart monitor ticked softly. The rain, now a steady drumming on the panes, seemed to echo the life outside the sterile room. A strange, invisible link tied the weather to the events within.
I loved him from the first day at university, Irene began, never taking her eyes off the motionless body. He was skinny, glasses, everyone mocked me for liking him. I saw the real him beneath.
Ethel clutched the curtain, as if something hidden there could save her.
Then came the weddingrings, veil, everything proper. My mother even said, Shell be a good daughterinlaw. And I turned out defective, Irene said.
Ethels voice was barely a whisper. Dont say that, she murmured.
How else to speak? Irene snapped, sharp as a knife. Do you know how many doctors Ive seen? How many procedures? He kept telling me, Dont worry, love, well be fine without children. He lied. He just lied.
He loves you, Ethel whispered, though the words sounded hollow even to her.
Even when hes that? Irene chuckled, her laugh hoarse, a wave of disappointment.
Ethel winced, instinctively covering her belly, as if shielding herself from the pain.
I thought we had love, she whispered, eyes on the floor. He was so attentive, so gentle
So Im what, Irene said with a sneer, a careerdriven, childless wife?
No! Ethel cried out, unable to finish.
You know whats funny? Irene interjected. I almost understand you. Young, head over heels I was the same. Only my mistake is that the man I fell for is already my husband.
In the ward, Andrew shifted slightly. Both women leaned forward, then fell silent again.
What now? Ethel asked.
What will you do? Irene asked, weary. Andrew will have two heirs or heiresses. Does it matter?
And he? Ethel pressed.
Whats he? Irene replied, bitterness in her tone, looking at him as if at a stranger. Hell choose maybe. He has a choice between an old wife with baggage or a young lover with a bump.
Im not claiming anything, Ethel began, trying to pull away from the words.
Youre all claiming, Irene cut in. Everyone claims. Listen, girl I wont give up my twenty years. Thats mine. You jumped on the wrong train, not your route, not your station.
A nurse sniffed softly. Sorry, visiting hours are over.
Yes, of course, Irene straightened. Lets go, onionscented grief. Ill show you where the tea kettle is. Well both be here a long time.
A week later I awoke in a hospital bed. The first thing I saw was my wife sitting in the chair beside me, a hand gently resting on my belly. A thought flickered: Why didnt I see it sooner?
Ellen my voice croaked, foreign to me.
She startled, eyes widening. Whats the news, love? Did you get a date with the angels?
Sorry
Dont start, Ellen muttered. Ive got a lawyer. I wont split the houseyou can keep the car, youll need it. Ive quit my job.
What? I tried to sit up, panic flooding me. Why?
Im moving back to Larkfield, to my parents, she said calmly, as if announcing a mundane chore. The airs cleaner there, better for the baby.
Ellen, dont
Its necessary, Andrew. Its necessary. She smiled, not with joy but relief. Ive had a lot of thoughts while youve been lying there. Im a fool for believing you. Not because I trusted you, but because I was afraid to live without you.
I love you, I whispered, as if the words could change anything.
You love? she tilted her head, not looking at me. Probably, in your own way. As a habit, as part of life. I dont want to be a habit, understand?
She rose, brushed off her dress as if shedding a weight that wasnt hers. Ethel visited daily. She cried, said shed give up all claims. Silly thing I gave her the number of a good gynaecologist and a realtorshell need a bigger flat for a child in a onebedroom.
You what? I stared, unable to process.
Whats so shocking? Were now in the same boat. Actually, the same position funny, isnt it? Years of emptiness, now suddenly two of us. They say misfortune never comes alone. Neither does happiness.
Outside, a spring thunderstorm rolled, ripping the day into fragments.
Dont see me off, Ellen said, leaning in to kiss my forehead, a simple, ordinary gesture. Ive called a taxi, sent my things. Sign the divorce papers when youre betterwhere else to rush?
Ellen
You know, she paused at the door, turning back, I really loved you. To the point of madness, of trembling and now its like a breath has been released. Thank you for that. And thank you, too.
She slipped out, quietly closing the door. A faint scent of her perfume lingeredthe same fragrance Id given her every wedding anniversary.
I stared out the window where the spring storm mixed rain with sleet. In that damp March town, two women bore my children in their hearts. Two different worlds, yet somehow alike. Two separate paths, one story.
Wonder if theyll ever be friends, I thought, or will they forever share this lifes fragment?
