Three is a crowd: Diane has her man back. For now

David and Diane have been married for years; then there is Julie, the young secretary whose axis collides with the couple’s in ways none of them saw coming.


If the apartment had felt like a prison before, it felt ten times more like one now that I knew David was spying on me, and I was desperate to break free as soon as I could figure out where to go.

My mother’s place was the most logical solution, but I did not want her sensing that there was a problem, only to say ‘I told you so’.

Besides, even though I paid literally all her bills, my siblings were soon breaking off for the holidays, which would make both space and money a challenge. There was only one other option; it was crazy to even consider, but with nowhere else to turn, I turned to Kenneth.

I waited until five before calling, and he answered almost immediately.

“Hey; I was just about to call you. How are you?” he greeted me cheerily.
“Well, let’s just say I’ve had better days,” I answered, a lot more subdued.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he demanded, his tone swiftly shifting to one of concern.
“Nothing I can discuss over the phone.”  
“No problem, I’m done for the day; so, I could come pick you up.”

The thought of the cameras in the apartment capturing that made me panic at the mere suggestion.

“No! There’s no need for you to trouble yourself…” “It’s no trouble; I could be there in fifteen minutes.”
“No! Can I just come to your place instead?”
“Of course, but I’m leaving work now; so, why don’t I just pick you up?” he repeated his offer.

“I would rather come on my own,” I insisted.
“Well, if you insist…”
“Thanks, see you soon,” I interrupted, and then hung up before he could try pushing any further.

Kenneth was waiting at his door when the cab pulled up at his place a little after six, and while he appeared surprised at the sight of the bag I had packed, he smiled as he picked it up and ushered me inside.

Once inside, he got both Junior and I comfortable, and then although he was too polite to ask what was going on and what the bag meant, I knew I owed him an explanation. So, I told him everything; from the DNA test to David having found out about us from watching the camera footage.

“Obviously it’s crazy and he’s a fool, but his stupidity has gotten you here; so, I’m not complaining,” he shrugged with a smile, and then wrapping his arms around me, hugged me close.


Although I had decided to stay away from Julie until the DNA results came in, and despite the fact that Diane was still constantly hovering over me, eventually the need to see Julie and hash things out with her became too strong to resist, and almost a week later, I returned to the apartment after work, one evening.

I told Diane I was going to be taking out some potential clients, and surprisingly she did not object, which gave me the time I needed to deal with Julie and after knocking twice with no response, let myself in with my key.

There was no sign of either Julie or Junior in the apartment, and from the thin layer of dust that lay over most of the surfaces, it appeared that they had not been there for a few days.

My immediate suspicion was that she was with that bloody doctor again, and the mere thought of it – especially that she had taken Junior with her – made my blood boil.

Enraged, I called her and unlike in the past when she would answer my calls after the first or second ring, this time it seemed to take forever for her to answer, which only enraged me further.

“How long do I have to call you for before you answer? Or are you too busy to take my calls now?” I demanded as soon as she finally answered. “What do you want, David?”

“Where are you and where’s my son?”
“Your son! You said you didn’t know if he was yours; isn’t that why you had that DNA test done? So, why are you asking about him now?” she shot back, and I was taken aback by the cold steely tone of her voice.

Where are you?” I repeated through gritted teeth.

She did not answer for a few seconds, and I was about to repeat the question when she finally responded: “I’m at my mother’s place.”

“I don’t believe you; I bet you’re at his place, aren’t you?”

Again, there was that hesitation before she answered: “I don’t care what you believe; I’ve told you I’m at my mother’s place, now tell me what you want.”

Her tone grew colder and harder with each response she made, making her sound more and more like a stranger. I wondered what had happened to the meek, soft-spoken young lady I had fallen in love with.


I had forgotten just how tiring being  ‘a good wife’ was, but in the week since David had had the DNA test done, I was certainly reminded.

Ironically, I hardly did any of the actual work, delegating most of it to the maid, but I was nonetheless mentally and physically exhausted at the end of each day.

The main reason for this was my need to have everything just perfect for David when he got home each evening; the house had to be clean and tidy, the children showered and fed, his coffee hot, his food ready.

While I delegated most of the chores to the maid, I handled the children on my own, while supervising her assignments, and when David got back, I had to add ‘perfect wife’ to the list, serving him his coffee, setting out an outfit for him to change into while he showered, serving his dinner, and finally providing either companionship or sex based on his mood.

Combined, it was enough to wear out even the most resilient of women, so it was a relief and welcome break when he told me he was taking out some clients from work and would be late.

Without David to impress, I let the maid handle the cooking by herself, sent the children off to bed as soon as they were done with dinner, took a long leisurely bath, and then settled in front of the TV with a large glass of wine.

Determined to have a pleasant, relaxing evening, I did not think about David’s whore even once; I was confident he had not seen her since the test was done, and once the results were out in a few days’ time, her and their bastard son would be history. For good.

Source: The Observer

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