Ill call, he mutters, tugging at the kitchen door. Your lover rang. She sends her regards! Irene shouts, never turning from the hob where a familiar fry sizzles in the pan, as if it were a taste of their twentyyear marriage.
Andrew freezes in the doorway. Two decadesan entire lifeflash before his eyes in an instant. The keys slip from his fingers, clatter onto the floor, and the harsh metallic clang pierces the sudden silence.
What are you talking about? A lover? His voice trembles, spilling all the fear and turmoil of the past months. He feels the ground give way beneath him.
Alice, Irene says, finally turning, arms crossed over her chest. Your assistant, I think? Shes only twentyfive, says shes been with you for four months now. Congratulations, dear.
The pain in her eyes makes Andrew want to sink into the earth or snap awake, as if it were all just a nightmare.
Iro, Ill explain everything he starts, but the words choke in his throat.
Explain what? she laughs hoarsely. What exactly are you going to explain, Andrew? How you had a bit of fun with your secretary while I was running from one doctors appointment to another? Or how you lied, saying you were staying late at work?
The pan spits, and the smell of burnt meat fills the kitchen. Irene flicks the gas off, as if that could halt the ache, the bitterness, the betrayal.
You know whats the most disgusting? her voice drops to a whisper. I suspected it. All those meetings, latenight calls, business trips I believed you, like a fool!
Listen, Irene Andrew steps toward her, but she thrusts her arm out, as if erecting an invisible barrier.
Dont come near! tears flash in her eyes. Lord, how vile twenty years down the drain!
Stop, he tries to steady himself, his voice shaking. Lets talk calmly. Its complicated.
Complicated? Irene laughs again, a sound that borders on sobbing. Whats complicated about it? You took a young lover. She came into your life. And me her voice cracksIm just an old woman who cant have children, is that it?
Dont say that! he steps forward, reaching to embrace her.
She twists away like a burned leaf. In the next heartbeat a sharp slap cracks the kitchens quiet.
Get out, she whispers, voice trembling. Get out of your life of hers. If she could give you what I couldnt.
Iro
Leave! she grabs the salt cellar and flings it at him.
Andrew recoils; the salt scatters across the floor, white crystals glinting under the lamp. Bad omen, flashes through his mind.
Ill call, he repeats, pulling at the door again.
Irene turns silently toward the window, shoulders shaking as if from cold, though the night outside is already warm.
In the hallway, throwing on his coat, he hears muffled sobs. His hand freezes on the doorknob. What could he possibly say? How could he justify the betrayal?
The front door slams shut. An empty flat falls deafeningly quiet. Only the ticking of the wall clock a wedding gift from his parentsbreaks the hush. It has been ticking for twenty years, marking the seconds of their shared life.
Irene slumps into a kitchen chair, eyes landing on the spilled salt. They say salt brings bad luck, she thinks, then bursts into a hysterical laugh. It seems absurd that her life could crumble like those white crystals on the dark floor.
His coat pocket buzzes. He fumbles for the phone, a text from an unknown number flashing on the screen: Sorry. I didnt want it to end like this. Alice.
Wretch, Irene mutters, clenching the phone as if it were a wound. Little monster
Outside, rain begins to patter, the first drops drumming on the sill like a sad xylophone.
She rises, grabs a broom and a dustpan. While she sweeps up the salt, a foolish thought whirls in her head: I never even asked whether shes expecting a boy or a girl
She stops, dustpan clenched, the rain, the ticking clockall blend into a single relentless stream, as if her whole life now exists only in these tiny details. Nothing else remains.
Andrew sits in his car, staring at the phone. Fifteen missed calls from his motheractually Irene, who always loved to call her daughterinlaw.
What now? he asks his reflection in the rearview mirror. The 45yearold man staring back looks judgmental.
The phone buzzes again. Alice flashes on the screen.
Yes, love he whispers.
Where are you? her voice trembles, on the brink of tears. I was so scared she was terrifying!
Who? Andrew asks, confused.
Your wife! She came to my office, caused a scene
What? he snaps upright. When?
An hour ago, Alice sobs. She screamed in the whole department, said Id broken your family. She threw papers at me they were her medical results.
He lowers his head onto the steering wheel with a groan.
I didnt know Alice continues. I truly didnt know you couldnt have children. I thought you just didnt want them
Ah, I knew, flashes through his mind. Knew and still.
Come over, she pleads. Im scared being alone.
On my way, he says shortly.
He turns the engine on, but before the car can move the phone rings againhis mother.
Yes, Mum.
Ah, you wretch! her voice booms over the line. What have you done? Lost all conscience?
Mum
Keep quiet! Irenes crying, barely holding herself together. Twenty years together and you youve thrown it all away with some youngster!
Mum, I
Im done with you! she shouts. Dont call, dont show up at the doorstep until you sort yourself out!
He drops the phone onto his lap, as if it suddenly became too heavy. Silence settles, only the faint hum of the engine.
He looks at Irenes house. Warm light spills from the windows, a cosy glow. He cant go there now. He cant go anywhere.
He turns the ignition off. The car sighs and falls silent. He is alone in a sudden, deafening quiet.
A short beep sounds from the phone. Dammit, he whispers, slamming his fists on the steering wheel until his fingers ache.
Another message pops up from Irene: Divorce papers will be ready in a week. You can collect your things this weekend. Im leaving.
He reads it over and over. The words dont form a coherent whole. Divorce. Everything. Twenty years. All collapsed.
A new call ringsAlice.
Are you coming? My stomach hurts
On my way! he shouts, jerking the wheel as if it could tear him out of this nightmare.
Rain intensifies, wipers scraping helplessly across the windscreen, the town blurring into grey smudges of glass.
The phone buzzes again, probably his mother again. He doesnt even look. Whats the point? Everything is falling apart and he cant grasp how it happened.
A year ago Alice started as an intern at his firm. Young, bright, eyes full of hope She looked at him with the same adoration Irene once gave him during university days.
Then a corporate party, a flirty touch He remembers lying to his wife, saying he was busy at work, while he was whisking Alice to restaurants, buying flowers, falling in love like a teenager again.
He rented a flat for secret meetings, watching her glow with happiness, planning futures, dreaming of what could be
Fool, he thinks, watching the rainslicked road. Old fool.
The phone rings again.
Its not Alice, Irenes voice cuts in, oddly calm. I did a test. Guess what? Im also expecting a baby.
Everything freezes. A sudden screech of brakes. A crash. Darkness.
The doctor says its an infarction with a traumatic brain injury. Condition is seriously critical, a detached voice states.
Irene stands by the ICU window, watching her husband tangled in tubes and wires. Beside her sits Alice, her plump face hidden in her hands, quiet sobs escaping.
Stop crying, Irene says, not looking up. This isnt a drama.
Sorry Alice wipes her eyes. Its just the baby
The baby without a father how funny. And me without a husband Isnt that great? Irene smirks. You think youre the only one who got knocked up?
Did you also? Alice asks, eyes flickering to Irenes barely noticeable belly.
Got pregnant too? Irene chuckles. Twenty years of nothing, and nowbang!maybe from stress.
The monitor beeps softly. Rain, as it has for the past three days, taps the windows, refusing to let anyone forget that life outside continues.
I loved him from the first term at university, Irene suddenly says, not taking her eyes off the motionless body. He was skinny, glasses, everyone teased him. I saw the real him
Alice pulls at the hospital curtain, as if something behind it could save her.
Then the wedding, Irene continues, as if speaking to an empty room. Rings, veil, everything perfect. His mother even said, Shell be a wonderful daughterinlaw. And look where we are nowdefective.
Dont say that, Alice whispers, voice as thin as an autumn leaf.
How else to put it? Irene snaps, eyes sharp. Do you know how many doctors Ive seen? How many procedures? He kept telling me, Dont worry, love, well manage without kids. He was lying. Plainly lying.
He loved you, Alice says, but even her words sound unconvincing.
And you? When he got you? Irene laughs, cruel. Youre just a spoiled career woman with no kids?
No! Alice whispers, clenching her hands over her stomach.
You know whats the funniest? Irene interjects. I almost understand you. Young, in love, lost your head. I was once like that. Only my mistake is that the man is already mine.
Andrew shifts slightly in the ICU bed. Both women lunge forward, then fall silent.
What do we do now? Alice asks as the room quiets.
What will you do? Irene asks, wiping a tear from her cheek. Andrew will have two heirs or heirs. Whats the difference?
And him? Alice asks, unable to hold the question.
Whats his choice? Irene replies, bitter smile. He can pick. Hell have either an old wife with a limp or a young lover with a bump.
Im not claiming Alice begins, trying to pull herself out of the tangled words.
Youre all claiming, Irene cuts in. Everyone claims. Listen, girl Im not giving up whats mine. Twenty years is my life, understand? Twenty years You jumped onto a strangers train, but this isnt your track, not your station.
A nurse coughs softly from the doorway.
Excuse me, visiting hours are over, she says.
Yes, of course, Irene straightens. Come on, lets get a cuppa. Ill show you where the tea machine is. We still have a long night ahead.
A week later Andrew awakens. The first thing he sees is his wife sitting on the bedside chair, a hand gently resting on his belly. How did I not notice? he croaks.
Ellie? she teases, a hint of mischief in her tone. I thought you were off gallivanting with angels in heaven.
Sorry he rasps.
Dont start, Irene snaps. The solicitor is here. I wont split the housekeep what you need. The car, too, youll need it. Ive quit my job.
What? Andrew tries to rise, panic flooding his voice. Why?
Im moving back to Leeds, to my parents place, she says calmly, as if arranging a grocery run. The airs cleaner there. Better for the baby.
Iro, no
Its necessary, Andy. I need to. She finally smiles, not joy, but relief. Ive realized I was a foolish fool, not because I believed you, but because I was terrified of living without you.
I love you, he whispers, as if the words might change anything.
You love? she nods, not meeting his eyes. Probably, in your own way. Like a habit, like part of life. But I dont want to be just a habit, understand?
She stands, brushes off her dress as if shaking off an unwanted weight.
Alice used to drop by every day, crying, saying 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? Andrew cant believe his ears, staring at his wife.
Whats so shocking? she shrugs. Were now in the same boat. Actually, the same row funny, isnt it? So many years of emptiness, now suddenly two of us. As they say, misfortune never comes alone. Neither does happiness.
Outside a spring thunder rolls, breaking the day into pieces.
Dont linger, Irene leans down, kisses his forehead with a simple, ordinary gesture. Ive called a taxi. Packed my things. Sign the divorce papers when youre betterwhere are you rushing off to now?
Ellie
You know, she pauses at the door, turning back, I really did love you. To the point of madness, of trembling and now it feels like Ive let go of air. Thank you for that. And thank you.
She steps out, gently closing the door. A faint scent of her perfume lingers, the same scent he gave her each anniversary.
Andrew watches the window where a spring storm mixes rain with snow. In the damp March town, two women carry his children in their heartstwo different, yet somehow similar worlds. Two paths, one story.
Wonder, he thinks, whether the kids will ever be friends, or if theyll spend their whole lives sharing everything
