(Continued from last issue)
David and Diane have been married for years; then there is Julie, the young secretary whose axis collides with the couple’s in ways none of them saw coming.
Tracy and I spent close to an hour on phone, initially with me doing most of the talking as I filled her in on the latest developments.
“Can you believe his nerve, relegating the children and I to weekends while he spends the rest of the week with that whore! And he expects me to just accept this new status quo like I’m some uneducated woman in the village who goes along with whatever her husband says!” I fumed.
“Unfortunately, like you’ve already pointed out, he’s got you in a catch-22; you’re damned if you do, and damned if you don’t,” she began somberly.
“Forget about fighting with David over this, and instead focus on her. Remember how you dealt with her the first time around? You destroyed her then, and you can do so again now. Since you know he’s spending weekdays with her, simply follow him after work on one of those days and find out where she lives; once you know that, go back when he’s at work and put her in her place. The truth is, you can’t stop David from going where he wants to go – but you can stop her from letting him in. Go scare the hell out of her, just don’t ask me how, because I don’t want to be an accomplice.”
She concluded with a light laugh like she was joking. I was not sure if it was a joke; it did not sound like one and I did not take it as one either.
Tracy was right, I had destroyed that bloody secretary before and I could certainly do so again. David might have thought the fight was over, but in actual fact, it was really just beginning.
Diane was uncharacteristically quiet and subdued over the rest of the weekend, and it got me mildly uncomfortable.
Of course I knew she was upset over our ‘talk’ on Friday night, but I had thought that once that initial shock wore off, she would bounce back and at the very least raise the subject again, but she never did.
When I got back with the children on Saturday just after seven, she was in the living room watching one of her favourite soaps on TV, which the children loudly interrupted with excited tales of their day out.
She had then taken them upstairs to supervise them showering and changing into their pyjamas, before bringing them back down for dinner.
Exhausted by their day out, they were ready for bed as soon as they finished eating, and once again Diane trooped upstairs with them.
She had not come back downstairs after that, and when I went up to bed as it approached eleven, she was already asleep – or pretended to be.
Sunday was my nephew’s birthday, and Diane once again declined to join us for the party at my sister’s house; so, once again it was just the children and I. As family, we were among the last guests to leave, arriving back at the house just as the nine o’clock news was beginning.
Apart from an irritated remark about how late I had kept the children out, Diane did not speak directly to me for the rest of the night, and when I was leaving for work on Monday morning and told her I would be back on Friday, all she said was, “Fine.”
It was not like her and that got me suspicious; there was no way she could be so accepting of my return to Julie; so, why wasn’t she kicking up a fuss? What was she planning?
I spent all of Monday excitedly preparing for David’s return. Like Sandra had said, if Diane was the reason he had returned, I should give him reasons to stay; so, with her help, I made sure every inch of the flat was spotless, and once that was done, set about preparing his favourite dishes for dinner.
Although he had only been gone for the weekend, it felt longer than that, and I could not wait for him to get back. David was apparently looking forward to returning as well, because as soon as it struck five, he sent me a message that simply read: ‘Leaving office now. See you soon.’
With the apartment and food ready, I went to get myself ready for him as well; I estimated that it would take him about half an hour to get to the flat, enough time for me to take a quick shower, change clothes, and run a comb through my frizzled hair.
Although I thought make-up would be a bit too much (after all it was a Monday evening and it wasn’t like we were going out or anything), Sandra insisted that I at least wear some lip gloss and eye pencil: “His wife has probably been pulling her mouth all weekend; so, give him something pretty to look at for a change.”
I could not help but laugh out loud at her totally inappropriate below-the-belt remark. Nonetheless, I indulged her, and had just finished applying a thin, barely visible line of eye-pencil when I heard the front door open and David’s voice call out cheerfully: “Hello, I’m home.”
My heart skipped a beat at his words; this man who owned a five-bedroom mansion, was calling this two-bedroom rented apartment ‘home’!
Maybe Sandra was right after all, maybe everything really was going to be okay; maybe he really would stay this time, I thought to myself as I got up to go and meet him, a happy smile on my face.