First reaction- after the shock- is to grab any possessions of mine within easy reach. I stuff things into a bag. I force my mind to focus on that one task. I can not be conscious of the two people hurriedly getting dressed or the male voice frantically talking at me.
“Passport,” I whisper to myself. No movement or noise can break my one tunnel vision. I walk through the flat in one determined motion. Picking things up and throwing them into my oversized handbag. Finally I reach back to the front door. "Don't go, I can explain." His words are starting to creep into my head, but my practical side tells me not to feel the hurt or anger until after I have left.
"Was that your wife?" The female voice says with a slight vindictive edge. He is still buttoning up his shirt, as the door slams shut.
He would want to stop me, he doesn’t like being out of control. I will have to hurry to make sure he does not catch me. I mustn’t hear his explanation, not that he can have much of an explanation. Still I feel too weak. I could accept any lie to try and stop the hurt and humiliation. Holding the bag close to my chest I run down the concrete steps into the underground.
A train is waiting to depart on the platform; with three long strides I ascend. I sit down and placed the bag at my feet, I can sense things are spilling out of it but I do not look.
"Was that your wife?" I hear her question echoing in my head. I feel my eyes swell with tears. The pain is sinking in and I can do nothing to stop the flow of them, thankfully people ignore my quiet sobs. I notice how people have their heads down. I wonder if it’s a way of protecting themselves from outsiders who could potentially distract from their day or worse ruin their peace.
Peace, I had not felt peace in 6 long years. I remember the smell of him, those first few days were heady as we slowly got to know each other. Those slight lingering looks of attraction over the desk. It became a secret between us and to us. The excitement was the revealed affection every now and then that confirmed our mutual desire for one another.
It took some months but eventually our romance began. The memory of our first passionate kiss in my office heightens my sense of happiness but it vanishes. As if a punch to my gut. The physical hurt is all to real. I’ll be bruised for a while because I surrendered myself wholly to him. My love overwhelmed me. I couldn’t see me without him. The world I was sure, would be hollow if he didn’t exist within it.
We spend so much time with our colleagues that they are more familiar than family. Perhaps that’s why I failed to see his faults.
When the tube stopped I make my way into Heathrow. At the desk I ask if there are any flights leaving for Italy. One is leaving in four hours to Florence. “I will book it, please." Adrenalin and nerves circled round my body, am just going to get on a plane and go? I walk away from the desk with the ticket in my hand and panic in my heart. I go through security and take out my phone. For the next two hours my mind is concentrating on booking a hotel and making sure a taxi will be waiting for me when I get there. Luckily the receptionist speaks English and is very astute. Everything would be taken care of. I buy my Euros and sit down to have some dinner. It occurs to me I should tell my parents. I take a finally gulp of red wine as I hear my mother's voice.
"You’re going to Italy alone?" She asks after I had explained. "Adrian is not going with you? Why?"
"Things have not worked out. I need a break to clear my head."
"You should be talking to him, not running away."
"Mum I can't see him; he will manipulate me into taking him back. Please understand, I need to break from him. I need to save myself..."
"What does that mean? And what should I do if Adrian calls?"
"Do not tell him anything, I will speak to him when I get back."
"Alright if you say so, but please stay safe."
"I will." I say through my cracked voice.
I watch the big clock tick time away, it feels such a relief to be getting out. Not having to deal with telling people, 'Adrian and I have split up' and then seeing that look in their eyes as if to say told you so. Again I hear that woman's voice
"Was that your wife?" Oh those four words fill me with bitterness; six years wasted. His love was unworthy of me and yet it’s what I craved. I dreamed, obsessed, prayed for. I had imagined his love but Adrian was never the man I envisaged. The man I had image was worthy of me. I must walk away because the life I had created in my head is a lie.
"Your Mum told me you were here."
My heart breaks, the instance I hear his voice. He has bought a ticket just to get through security it’s enough to break all resolve. ”I need to get away from you."
"And then you will come back to me."
"No, it's over. If you could send over my stuff to my parent's, that would be helpful."
"Please don't go like this, I made a mistake. What about work? Come home tonight, back to the flat, and then we can book a holiday together, when I have the time."
"Adrian, it is over between us. I plan to request a transfer to another office."
He looks shell shocked.
“Our other office is in America.”
“I realise that. If you have ever loved me you will agree the transfer...”
"Melissa, there’s no need to move country. I can’t imagine working without you. You brighten my day. You’re what I look forward to every morning.”
My gate number is called; I pick up my oversized handbag and with a finally word to him. I say, "Go home to your wife, Adrian"
For more work you can check out my novel 'Boleyn and his bloodline' and my newest novel 'Becoming Catherine the Great' Just click on the titles.
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