Short Story: The Scent of A(nother) Woman - con't
He passed a file to Linda on his way to a meeting, instructing her to go through everything inside. He hoped that she would find a pair of tickets tucked inside. It was for a play that she wanted to catch badly.
The appalling conclusion distressed his wife so much that it debilitated her for a whole week. She stayed in bed day and night. He, on the other hand, barely noticed her condition, deeply mired in depression and his own personal hell. His obvious ignorance drove a stake into her heart and a wedge into their relationship. It was irreparable. As she remained in bed, one thing was clear in her frenzied mind, she needed to know why.
-
That evening, as he stepped through the door after another torturous day at work, tired and lost in his miserable funk, he was rudely awakened by the sound of shattering glass. He turned around to discover that his wife had thrown the large crystal vase. It lay in a million broken pieces around her feet. Stalks of withered lilies, cut and crushed by the fall, threw up a sickly sour scent. His wife began screaming at him, hysteria and rage in her eyes.
He stared open-mouthed at her, wondering what had possessed the woman. After a full minute of screaming, she stopped to catch her breath. That was when he saw fear lurking behind the cloak of rage. 'Why?' he pondered. Amidst her screaming, he managed to catch the words “why” and “fucking around”. 'What is she screaming about?' he wondered. Then it dawned on him that she had just accused him of sleeping around. He could not comprehend what had led her to belief that he was doing such a thing. If anything, he had abstained from the very notion of “fucking around”. It must surely be a gross misunderstanding. He tried thinking what he had done but could only feel a particularly depressing heaviness settling in his heart. He is innocent.
He tried pacifying her, telling her repeatedly that he has done no such thing, had remained faithful in their marriage and questioned her suspicions of him. She would not listen and kept up with her hysteria for another half an hour before the word ‘divorce’ slipped out of her mouth. He expected to feel hurt and anger, even a tinge of sadness, but what he felt was relief coursing through his body. It took him by surprise. The warm comforting feeling flooded into his system and he briefly savoured he notion in his mouth. However, panic slowly came creeping in, eventually replacing the warm buzz with a certain sort of blinding terror. His life is falling apart. Everything he thought secured seems to be ebbing away. Being alone is not an option. It scares him much too much. He would do whatever to keep her by his side, although doubts and insecurity crowded his troubled mind.
While he was tussling internally about being a potential divorcee, she sobbed uncontrollably and screamed that she will “kill herself if he does not tell her why!” She was inconsolable and he was helpless. He gave her a hopeless look because he knew that she was beyond reasoning, beyond listening. He walked out of the house wordlessly.
He received a text message from Linda during the meeting. It was a ‘NOT SAFE FOR WORK’ text and he struggled to remain composed. He knew that he scored another night on her bed.
Distressed and appalled by the turn of events, depressed and desperate, he turned to the only person he knows that can provide him with the comfort and solace he needed. He absent-mindedly speed-dialed his secretary. She would know what to do. She always had a way out. She would listen. When she picked up his call, his voice caught and he remained silent. He finally mumbled something about being “confused”, “in deep shit” and needing to “talk to somebody”. She agreed to meet him at what used to be their favourite post-work drinking hole. In his present state of mind, he missed the note of reluctance in her voice.
She was already there when he arrived. She was sitting outside the pub, a cup of beer in hand and a cigarette between her lips. He briefly wondered when she picked up the smoking habit. She looked up at him and blew smoke into his face. Then she nodded at the seat opposite her. He took the seat tentatively and avoided her gaze. She sucked on her cigarette and took sips of beer. Then he said, “Smoking will yellow your teeth real quick.” She paused and looked at him, then snubbed out her cigarette.
“I’m sorry” he started, “I’ve been a real asshole and I am truly sorry.” At this point, he suddenly realized that her ring finger on her left hand is devoid of any band. Zilch. Empty. He blurted, “You’re not engaged!” and immediately felt ashamed. Nothing to be happy about. He felt that he sounded a tad too surprised. She shot him a dirty look and said nothing. He felt a tug in his heart. Sighing loudly, he launched into the fight. Linda listened quietly, growing more and more emphatic as he gets deeper and deeper into the story. After he was done, he buried his face in his palm and tears spilled.
She pulled her seat next to him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulders. He appreciated the gesture, when he realised that they had not been that intimate before, even when things were fine between them. Soon his tears stopped flowing. She offered her glass of beer to him and he gratefully gulped everything down. Abruptly, a plan began to form in his mind. He could leave his wife, couldn't he? After all, she suggested it. Then he could be with the strong beautiful woman beside him now. It was a way out of this mess. It suddenly seemed clear. All those months have been leading up to this. Everything has conspired to lead them to each other! He does not have to be alone. Being with her is an option.
With sudden ecstasy, he turned to her, grabbed her and kissed her hard on the lips. She tasted of beer and cigarette. She shoved him away.
“What was that about?” she roared before slapping his face.
He was taken aback. He thought they had something for each other. He thought she liked him. Weren’t they meant for one another? He stuttered, trying to say something.
She pushed back her chair roughly, took out white rectangular envelope from her handbag and dropped it onto the table. Then she walked off without looking back.
That was the last time he saw her. That was goodbye.
-
It was also the last time he saw his wife.
When he trudged home, he found that she had packed up and left the place. The withered lilies still lay on the floor, shards of crystal glass around. He felt nauseated by its overpowering sourness. It had occupied his home.
-
He took the next few weeks off, avoided everyone, and stayed home. He howled with pain at night, like a bleeding animal howling for death to come and offer relieve. Finally, when he was all hollowed out, he got out of bed and left his house. He booked a plane out of the country and returned two weeks later, feeling and looking better but still as disillusioned. He had removed his wedding ring, placed it back into the box and stashed it deep into his wardrobe. He expected the divorce papers to arrive anytime, but they never came. He never initiated it either, because he is innocent.
They never got a divorce.
-
When he got back to work, he immediately put up an ad to look for a new secretary. After weeks of interviewing, he finally settled on one, Linda. She was just like any office girl, ambitious and willing to do anything. On her first month of work, he rewarded her with a bottle of rose-scented perfume, which she wore to work. Then he treated her to a lavish lunch on her sixth month of work when he told her that she looks better with straight jet-black hair. By the end of the year, she had transformed into someone he was comfortable with. Someone he once knew. Someone he missed very much. Someone who is not his estranged wife. However, he maintained a professional relationship with Linda and treated her as a colleague.
At the end Linda’s first year at work, he brought her out to an extravagant dinner. This was when she leant in close to him and started to nibble on his ear, tentatively at first, and when he did not resist, she continued. He placed a hand on her thigh and stroked it. They concluded their celebration in Linda’s apartment that night. He never knew he was being watched in the restaurant.
Linda was in his office to discuss work. She was bent over; her elbow perched on his desk, her low-cut blouse leaving nothing to the imagination.
A sudden movement outside his office caught his eye. A face. A familiar face. No, a ghost from his not-too-distant past was approaching.
END.
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