c.l.o.s.e._e.n.c.o.u.n.t.e.r._p.a.r.t._o.n.e.
Audrey had noticed the door was ajar, leading into her architectural design bedroom. The room that she is well familiar with, because she has seen to every detail – the soft pastel walls enclosed the wooden furnishings, together with powdery blue and purple linen and décor. Sitting now on the park bench, not far from her apartment, the one she left barely 5 minutes ago. None of those chirping birds song could clear her head of the heavy grunting sound. The scene of her bedroom flashed by her eyes over and over again, forcing her to acknowledge something that she could never understand. But she was certain this is the end of her marriage. This is where she files for divorce and obtains custody of her six year-old son. Perhaps she even gets to keep the apartment, on top of the child support that she will be getting.
Her auburn hair was what brought Audrey and Jeff to share cups of coffee. He wasn’t shy to let her know he was in love with her. He proposed to her on their second vacation to Bali . Their wedding came eight months later, with baby Samuel following behind. They moved into a three room apartment at the east end, closer to Jeff’s office.
It has been a week since her discovery of Jeff promiscuity. Seven years of marriage trialed under seven days.
Day one: My head hurts. Not as much as my heart. Jeff clearly has done it before. It was all over his face. The crimson blushed down across his wide chest, and from the look of his erection thrusting in out. Was I rage to witness Jeff fucking someone else? Not immediately. It would have been better if I was. I was speechless. Confused and losing my senses one by one. My body froze. I only stare in silence at the sight of two men in the bed I’d made early this morning.
I have no idea how I end up sitting in the park. All I can recall is turning around and walked as fast as I could out of the apartment, and hearing Jeff shouting Audrey. And that Audrey played in my ears ever since, in a variance of sequence – Audrey, it’s not what you think – Audrey, it’s just sex, it meant nothing, I still love you – Audrey, sorry you have to see this, our marriage is not working out – Audrey, meet Mr. Fuckalicious.
I was surprised at myself for not doing the self blame drama, or going back to the apartment to confront Jeff. I walked two blocks into Hüpfen. Are you sure? Two hours later a lustrous black coated over my hair. Mother of God, you look gorgeous! Tears rolling down my cheeks, as I confessed to my gay stylist.
I picked up Samuel from school at four. Jeff was sitting in the living room when we got home.
Dad! Can we go try out my bike?
Samuel, not now. I need to talk to your mom first. Can you go play in your room?
But you promise to do it today, Dad.
I know, Sam, but can we do it maybe later, after dinner.
Okay, Dad.
Audrey, we need to talk.
Day two: I’m still hurting. Nothing’s changed. Nothing’s mended. We didn’t fight, shout, or throw anything at each other. No door was slammed. We talked, like the way a marriage counselor would approve. Remorse was washed clean by tears. We made love before dinner, and again after Jeff tucked Samuel into bed. It was love, and not just sex. And we wept in an embrace into sleepless night. He was either too upset to not notice the black, or perhaps the auburn was never the prop to begin with.
The morning was served as usual, except Jeff called in sick. He quickly sent Samuel off to school and rushed back and we had a third. I can take a sabbatical leave, and maybe we can go for that second honeymoon we’ve been putting off. I can transfer to another office. I can quit my job and look for another. Turns out the other guy is a colleague of Jeff. But of all that was said I wished he’d said I can stop seeing him.
Day three: Jeff has to return to work today. There is an important meeting. He came back at noon with pink roses. Do you love him? I can see how much he wanted to say yes, but he said otherwise to save our marriage. But more likely to save him from further explanation. I can tell how much this question hurts him. It makes him lied - to me and to himself, and possibly to that other guy, Tony. I accepted that faint and delay no with more forbearance than I had.
Day four: Over lunch with the housewives club, I got an earful of advice. I’d replaced Tony with Toni. An extramarital affair is common, if not expected. Not so for same-sex affair. Would it be less painful if it was a Toni?
How long has it been?
Since last June.
Where always? I meant the last time… in our bedroom.
I’m sorry, Audrey, I know our home meant a lot to you. No, I mean it meant a lot to us. I shouldn’t have brought him back. I promise it is the first and the last. I’m so sorry.
I don’t know what else to believe anymore. I felt like I’m being tested for an exam which I have no knowledge of. And at that last few minutes, information is fed into my head, creating opportunities and doubts concurrently.
Day five: Sandra called. As if dealing with an unfaithful husband is not enough, she reminded me that I ought to go for a test, just in case. I thanked her, got off the phone, and broke down in million little pieces. Then I dragged myself to the nearest Pathlab.
Day six: I did laundry today. The basket of dirties, and the duvet and sheets carrying the scent of infidelity. I wanted to cry. I wanted to be sad. I didn’t do any of that. I only turned the switch on, sat on the cold floor, pulled my knees close to my chest, rocked myself and watched it spins.
Day seven: Last night Jeff assured me that everything will be fine. It will be good again, just like before. It can never be. I can’t see myself to forgive him for what he did. For what he put my through. I’ve never demand a perfect life. Neither did I deserve to be treated this way. I know Jeff loves me. But I also know what happened between Tony and him is beyond warm bodies and white sheets. He has never been dishonest. Even to this day. When he kept that long pause after I asked whether he has feelings for Tony, we both knew it was the end. But what we didn’t know is whether it is the end of Jeff and Audrey, or Jeff and Tony.
Four bags packed and loaded into the trunk, I picked Samuel from his school.
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