Three
826 Words
Seb had jogged back inside the house.
He had been extremely sweaty, but despite that, he had a spring in his step. He’d taken the stairs two at a time, and after a few minutes, I had heard the shower run.
I made him blue berry pancakes, crispy bacon the way he liked it, two pieces of sausages, eggs and a side of sliced straw berries.
He sat down in the dinning room and as I served him, I asked him if wanted orange juice or coffee.
“Coffee.” He mumbled. This was how he spoke to me most of the time.
I served him his coffee and went back to packing his snacks.
When he finished his breakfast, he’d come to the kitchen to pick his snack pack.
“Have you put an orange?”
“Yep.”
He nodded.
“Have a good day.” He’d mumbled.
No thank you for preparing breakfast, no clearing the table to make my life easier. Just waiting for his servant disguised as a wife to do what needed to be done.
“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” I blurted out.
He’d stopped without turning back.
I repeated. “At least kiss me good bye. Please Seb.”
He’d bowed his head as if nagged, then walked up to me.
“You’re not a young wife, Emily, so stop trying to act like one.”
He sighed frustrated but kissed my forehead and walked out, without another word.
It’s like showing me a little bit of love required him so much effort.
I’d stood there for some minutes, helpless and neglected, and then burst out into a sob.
I dropped what I was doing and just went straight up to the couch, grabbed a blanket and cried my eyes out until I fell asleep.
I woke up to a knock.
It was Cathy.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” She looked at me, concern clouding her face. A casserole dish rested in her hands and a tote bag hung on her shoulder, a bottle of wine peeping out.
“Were you crying?”
“A little.” I replied groggy. “Then I dozed off.”
She stood in the center of the house and looked around.
It was a mess.
“I know it’s a mess.” I said falling back on the couch and pulling the blanket over my chin.
“At what time does he usually come back?” She looked down at me.
“At around eight p.m.” I closed my eyes. “Make yourself comfortable somewhere.”
“I’m going to put this in the oven and then I’m going to help you clean up. Just…rest.”
“Thanks Cathy. I drifted off.”
———
A month had passed since I’d seen them f*****g with my own eyes.
I never followed them again.
But Cathy did.
“Evidence,” she’d reechoed to me. “You’ll need it one day to blackmail Mrs Shire incase you need a favor, or your husband in case either of you decide to divorce.”
“These make me uncomfortable.” I told her.
Truth was it was very painful to watch the man I was still actively in love with, sleep with someone else.
I had developed insomnia from the amount of cortisol pumping in my system, knowing the man that lay next to me almost every night, didn’t love me enough to be loyal or care about how his actions would affect me.
Worse he didn’t even like me either.
“I know. But you have to drop the good girl integrity act. Clearly your husband doesn’t care.”
Ouch that revelation hurt.
But she didn’t understand that just like me, he was grieving. In his own way, he was processing the loss after loss of our four babies.
I knew eventually I’d talk to him about it, he’d apologize, tell me it was his way of processing the grief. Then we’d go for marital counseling, and everything would be fine. We’d probably try again. I’d convince him we try a surrogate this time.
Cathy didn’t know Seb like I did.
I had known him since I was fifteen and he, sixteen. He was sweet and kind and gentle.
Whatever was happening to us ,wasn’t us. We were best friends before we were even lovers.
Cathy forwarded to me the video.
“Keep it safe. And whatever happens, promise me you won’t do anything stupid. I can see it in your eyes you still love him. But love yourself first.”
As I watched him f**k Mrs Shire on her kitchen counter in the badly angled view, I made a decision.
I would talk to him tonight. Then I could cut Cathy off.
In fact, I decided I would go see him today at his work place. Surprise him. And if he wasn’t busy, I would ask him to lunch.
- Writer
