Short Story: The Scent of A(nother) Woman

Started: 15 January 2013
Completed: 8 January 2014


“For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;
Lilies that fester, smell far worse than weeds.”


- William Shakespeare, Sonnet XCIV


Linda fell asleep with on his left arm, her long dyed jet-black hair covering part of her shapely face. He tucked his right arm behind his head, breathing in her scent deeply. She smelled of roses, which he liked very much. He contemplated her, studying the curves of her body, her chest rising and falling beneath the blanket, the way her eyes flutter now and then as she falls into a dream. 

He admitted silently to himself that she could never be her.



He swung opened the front door. A cold draft entered, followed by the scent of fresh blooming lilies and wet grass. Through the door, she could see that it was spectacularly windy outside and the rain fell in a succession of slanted sheets behind him. The smell of rain, mingled with lilies and grass, refreshed her senses. The sight of him quickened her pulse and drew some of the dullness away.

“Leave the door open,” she said, “it’s hot inside.”

She went up to him and gave him a peck on the cheek. He smelled like the rain and lilies. She took the huge bouquet of lilies from him, planting her face into it and taking a deep breath. Then she removed the plastic packaging and placed them into a resplendent crystal vase.

Three months into their marriage and they are still basking in the glow of the ‘honeymoon’ phase. Looks given to each other flickered with unbridled love, kisses burned with passion and accidental touches ignited lovemaking sessions most of the time. They are young (both in their early thirties), not intent on having children and planned to see the world as much as they can. They are the modern day couple; educated with a sizeable disposable income and the freedom of mobility.

Friends look upon them with envy in their eyes. She quitted her job as an interior decorator after marriage as he earns enough for the both of them. He is an up-and-coming lawyer in a multinational law firm. In three years’ time, he is confident that he will be made partner. Their marriage nest is a three-storeyed structure of minimalist modernity (she helmed the decorating, naturally) at one of the premium districts in the city.

He is not handsome in a conventional sense, but has an easy approachable air about him. One would say that he is charming. Coupled with his knack for looking effortless in anything he wears, he has garnered quite the attention from female colleagues. Fortunately, he is brought up an honest man with strict parentage and resolutely avoided all advances (from the bolder female colleagues) and treated everyone equally.

In short, life is a dream for this young couple.

After planting a kiss on her forehead, he proceeded to the kitchen, placing bags of groceries on the marbled island. It is Sunday and they planned to stay in for the evening. She will be making beef stew served with butter olive rice (his favourite) and they looked forward to an intimate evening of good food, red wine and a romantic comedy. It was the perfect conclusion to the weekend.

The next morning, he woke with a headache. He had one too many glasses of wine and he longed to return to the warm bed and snuggle up to his blissfully sleeping wife. Nevertheless, he resolved to go to work and finish that report languishing on his desk for over a week. He washed up, dressed and kissed his sleeping wife before leaving for work. On hindsight, it would have been wiser to stay in bed and out of the office that day. Who knew that Monday would cause her to attempt suicide outside his office eighteen storeys high two years later?


He cracked open his eyes the following morning. Linda was already up and taking a shower. He had the sudden urge to join her but decided against it. Both of them had to be at work. He went to the other toilet to wash up. When he was done, Linda had already left, leaving a rose-scented trail behind her.


When he reached his office, he saw a white envelope on his desk. It turned out to be a resignation letter from his assistant, a lady in her late fifties who played an important role in his meteoric rise within the firm. He was terribly sorry to let her go, but he accepted her resignation without hesitation. She was on the cusp of being a grandmother and he thought that she might like to spend time with her grandchildren. He graciously accepted her resignation, congratulated her sincerely and placed an advertisement.

If he had stayed in bed with his wife that Monday, his secretary might have taken back the letter. She was actually in two minds about leaving. She liked working for him and did not expect him to accept her resignation with such grace and ease. Secretly, she would have gladly stayed had he asked. Playing nanny to her first grandchild is not her cup of tea, but her daughter-in-law had been coaxing her to take up the role. She was sorry to leave the sweet young man who showed his gratitude by buying her lunches and her daily cups of coffee.

-

After countless interviews, he finally picked a secretary that he liked. She had all the right qualifications and the right qualities. She spoke well, have a mind of her own and has that ‘do-not-bully-me’ edge. He needed that in a secretary, one that was not easily unnerved by his hectic schedule and the partners’ unreasonable secretaries. However, he did not count on that edge being even more pronounced when she started work. She was not your typical office girl. Even though she wore formal trousers and blouse to the interview, she turned up on the first day of work in leather pants, hot pink tank top and black blazer, all paired with shiny studded stilettos. She also had a bike helmet tucked under one arm and her workbag slung over the other. Her straight jet-black hair hung proudly at her waist. Everybody’s jaws dropped when she walked past but nobody said a thing. He advised her to dress work-appropriate, but she turned a deaf ear. She was capable and efficient, so what is a little atypical dressing? He also realised that he will catch the scent of rose whenever she is around.

Soon, he realized that he had gradually placed his life into her capable hands. She knew every little thing about his life, the going-ins and the going-outs, even the fights and good times with his wife. She played confidante and best friend and soon they developed a close-knitted and complex working relationship. They enjoyed each other’s company and even hung out together after work. In his mind, it was simply a platonic friendship. Anyway, he is married and his capable secretary is engaged to the young heir of a local food manufacturing company.

-

That is where the problem lies.

It annoys him greatly that she is engaged to that idiot. He absolutely loathed that lazy oaf who slaps around in his condominium wearing nothing but shorts every day, simply waiting for his inheritance to land on his lap. He honestly believe that she could do better and hoped fervently that she would one day kick the lazy boor in his ass and leave. Either that or the buffoon drop dead on his own accord. She deserves better. He has brought the topic up to her before, but she would not leave the idiot. Eventually, he gave up and let her be.

He did not share this with his wife. After all, which spouse would understand the concerns her husband has for another woman?

Unexpectedly, his secretary passed to him a red envelope. A gilded invitation card to her wedding. To the fat lazy son-of-a-bitch!


He bought breakfast downstairs before heading up to his office. As the lift was about the close, it slid open again and Linda appeared, wearing a bright red low-cut blouse, tight black pants and black stilettos. She was dressed to kill. They greeted each other politely and rode the lift up in silence to the eighteenth floor, where they share the same office.


He was utterly devastated. Can she not see his point of view? He grabbed her arms, fire in his eyes and rage in his voice as he commanded her not to marry that son-of-a-bitch. He was losing control and he shook her violently, trying to shake some sense into her. She was shocked and pushed him away. The look on her face was obvious, absolute bewilderment and a whole lot of righteous indignation. By some figment of his imagination, he thought he saw a flash of anger and insurmountable depths of sorrow. She turned away and left him standing in his office, silenced by shame and the abrupt turn of events. The next few days, they did not exchange words or looks. They avoided each other at all costs; he stayed in his office all day and she worked away from her cubicle as much as possible.

-

He lost his motivation for work, lost his appetite and has pretty lost much of his zeal for live. His wife noticed and begun to worry. Colleagues noticed and gossipmongers started their guessing game; many deduced that they slept together in a fit of uncontrollable sexual urges and irrepressible passion for each other, and that they regretted. The rumours got to a point that was beyond ridiculous. It escalated to the partners at the firm and they urged him to fix things at “the ground” or they will be forced to handle it.

Unhappy, he fired a scathing email to his secretary and ordered her to “keep up with appearances”. They still avoided each other, but acted as if nothing happened when they are together. Beneath the professional exteriors, turmoil and animosity broils. As the saying goes, the ones you love most hurts most. The masquerade went on for half a year and the rumours died down. During this time, he got more withdrawn, more anti-social and generally displayed a lack of interest at work. His decline also affected his marriage and his wife found him wanting. She fretted, cried to herself one too many nights, wondered what had gone wrong, desperately consulted all her friends (some who privately despised her) and family, and could only come to a single conclusion.

He is having an extramarital affair.

To be continued...


Note: This is actually half of the long-awaited 'prequel' to the short story, It goes on, that I wrote and published earlier.

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