Iím having an affair with a married man, and his wife is pregnant. Itís different though, with me Ė itís different because he truly loves me and besides, his wife is a bitch.
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ĎItís just that I canít leave her whilst sheís pregnant. You can understand that, canít you?í
Of course I can, I say. My friends look at me with raised disapproving eyebrows. Donít be stupid Laura they say, there will always be a reason.
They are wrong. He will leave her Ė sheís a bitch, a real piece of work.
I see him most nights. He comes to my house, we go to my room, we make love Ė he misses that, making love. We eat some take-away and then he goes home. He walks past my flatmates and their looks of pure loathing.
Be nice, please. I ask. They say nothing. Their looks say that this is unlikely to ever happen. They donít know him though, not like I do.
My sister and I arenít talking. Sheís married and appalled at my behaviour. You are breaking up a family, she says. Itís not true, I say, he doesnít love her Ė itís me he loves. He will leave her, watch. My sister says nothing and silence has only ensued.
I now spend all my time in my room, away from disapproving eyes. I have informed my friends that I do not want to hear their comments, unless itís positive. You canít help the heart, I say. Never say never, it could happen to you, I say.
Sheís seven months pregnant. Sheís being a nightmare, he says to me, lovingly, a person my friends donít see. We are at his house; he wonít come to mine anymore because of my flatmates and the discomfort. His wife is with her mother. Sheís being a bitch, more so than ever.
He will leave her soon.
His wife is nine months pregnant, my friend screams at me. What kind of a man is he she asks, how can you possibly love him.
I saw her the other day. Her huge stomach, her blonde hair, her Tesco shopping bags. She looked happy, not at all like a bitch. Manipulative cow, I thought.
Sheís had the baby he says, smiling, tickling my stomach. Her name is Suzanne. I donít want to hear. I say nothing. He says he will leave soon, he canít now, sheís depressed and he canít leave her with a newborn. Soon though he says, in a few months. I promise, he says.
He said he promises, I tell my friends. They say nothing, but their looks say I told you so.
Itís different I tell myself. He loves me, and besides sheís a bitch.