Affair x Affair

It was just before midday and this was when I liked to do the shopping. The kids were off to school and my husband was at work. The world was busy in their institutions be it work or school but I had these precious few hours to myself before the chaos of the school run and cooking for my husband.

The store was quiet as it usually is at this time of the day and I leisurely strolled the aisles with my cart. I had all of the time in the world to get what I needed for tonight's meal. I liked fresh vegetables for my meals. For most of my life I had only eaten vegetarian but my husband did not care for such ideals and preferred meat in his dishes but I had him promise to never eat beef. Marriage was all about compromise.

A man was walking towards me and I realized I was blocking the aisle as I usually drifted into my own world during these quiet shopping trips so I moved to the side to allow him to pass. But he did not seem to be intending on passing and changed course to come towards me again. I looked behind me in a moment of panic to see if there was someone else he could be walking towards.

"Nothing to worry about. He just seems a little lost," I try to re-assure myself. But for a moment I decide to take in his appearance and I had a good eye for initial impressions. He was carrying a bit of weight, the shirt not looking as smart as it struggled to stay tucked in. Tie loose. Eye bags and slumped shoulders that suggested he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. But he had a kind face. It is hard to describe such a thing but I felt sorry for him as he reminded me of an older uncle but he could not be much older than me. It is strange how we age and we never realize we have now become the aunties and uncles that we once considered so old. This was true of me as I pretended to celebrate my 30th birthday for the last 3 years.

"Are you the wife of Arjun Sinha?" He asked as he came right next to me. I held the rail of my shopping cart tightly.

"What? Yes. Who is asking?" My body language was defensive as I did not know this man and this whole interaction was confusing.

"I am sorry for the information I will be imparting on you. I hate to do something like this but a desperate man forgets decorum," he said and I became a little afraid. I was a woman alone and I feared for myself.

"Your husband is cheating on you," he said and he dropped an envelope in my cart.

I was shocked and frozen at the words. The slap of the envelope as it landed in my cart made the scene a whole lot more dramatic. My mind was in shock as he walked away but how could he leave after dropping such a bombshell, "Wait!" I shouted behind him but he did not wait or even glance back. He had a message and he delivered it.

I did not dare open the envelope. I convinced myself he was a crazy person and I should throw away the envelope when I finish but I didn't. I brought it home with me.

It was on the table as I just stared at this envelope. Whatever was in this envelope could implode my whole life? My kids? My husband? The family I loved would be ruined. Would Arjun cheat? When we first got married we had sex all of the time but it was over 10 years now and two kids later, the passion was not there. But he could not complain as we still had sex on special occasions and I always tried to satisfy him despite my sex drive being non-existent in recent years.

The tension was too much for me and I had to know what this evidence was. Maybe it was just a prank and I was acting all crazy?

I decided to rip the envelope open as the curiosity became too much to ignore and there I saw the evidence. Pages of text messages between Arjun and Pamela, his junior colleague. I never liked the elusive way Arjun behaved when talking about her but I never had no reason to doubt him. We had two kids together and he gave me a good life.

But as I read the messages, I became more horrified with each detail I discovered. They revealed an emotional affair and undoubtedly an actual affair but messages were not real evidence and I could not destroy my marriage over messages. I had to pick up the kids in 20 minutes. I ripped up the contents and hid them at the bottom of the bin as I returned to my housewife life.

It was easier to rip up the papers but it was harder to forget the words from the paper.

"I have never felt like this about anyone." Behnchod. What about your wife?

"My husband cannot give me, what you give me." She was a shameless randi. I wondered if it was her husband that I saw at the store.

"Are you there, Anita?" My husband asked as I drifted off into these thoughts.

"Yes. Just thinking about what to cook for tomorrow," I replied and he chuckled. I must seem like the stupid little suburban housewife to him. I began to look at him differently. How could he play such a double role in life? The perfect husband and the perfect affair partner?

"Your colleague, what is she called, the younger one, Pamela. Why don't we invite her and her husband over for dinner? You said she was great on that recent project," I said to test his reaction.

"Oh. It has crossed my mind also but I don't think her husband is very sociable. He is much older than her and you know how these arranged marriages are." Usually I would have laughed and enjoyed the gossip but it felt different, almost like he was trying to denigrate their relationship and demean this man deliberately.

"What was his name again? I always forget these names and I feel it is rude of me," I said as I tried to pry the information I really needed from him.

"Mohit Reddy. I think. Or maybe Rohit or some other hit. But like I said they don't socialize as a couple," he said trying to mock him and I did not like it. But I gave a half hearted laugh so he was not suspicious that I knew about his affair.

"Maybe another time," I replied as we settled to sleep but tonight I could not sleep. My mind was alive with fears and anxieties that would not allow me to sleep.

The next morning once the kids were off to school, I began to search the internet for Mohit or Rohit. There were many on social media but none that looked like the man that approached me. Maybe it was not her husband that approached me. Her husband did not have a profile on any social media but then I found him or who I thought was him. He looked so different in this picture. More hair, slimmer and just a bit handsome unlike the man I met in the store. Mohit Reddy, consultant heart surgeon. My first impression was completely different as I saw a broken man. Perhaps, he was ironically a broken hearted man.

I had to speak to him as I could not share this with anyone else. So I called his hospital to get through to him.

"Doctor Reddy does not take calls from patients. You will need to arrange an appointment with his secretary," the switchboard lady was dismissive.

"I am his wife. It is an urgent family matter," I said in an annoyed manner.

"I will try his line for you," she said reluctantly.

Before long I heard his line ringing and a dread built up inside of me. What was I planning on saying to him?

"Pamela, why are you calling the hospital?" He asked confused.

"It is not Pamela. It is Anita. Arjun Sethi's wife. I need to speak to you urgently," I said.

"Don't speak on this line. Take my private number," he said.

I called him a second after the call disconnected.

After our initial awkward hello, he broke the silence.

"I am sorry about burdening you with this. I can tell no one else about this. There is a stigma and a shame that I am unable to wash off. But I thought you deserved to know. I sincerely apologize once more," he said.

"Stop apologizing. You have told me now so what is done is done. But it is not enough evidence. I have two boys," I said.

"I have a young girl. Barely school age," he said as we opened up and just talked for the next hour but he was called away soon after.

Talking to him seemed to calm me as my world was spinning. I liked his soothing voice and he had a way of making me open up. I could share my fears and insecurities with him. Who better to understand than him?

The comfortable life I had seemed to be in danger but I would not dare confront my husband without real evidence. But what evidence could be enough? Irrefutable evidence? Messages would not be enough. They did not prove anything. If I ruined my marriage over some fleeting messages, then I would be the fool. I needed more. My life meant too much to me to simply blow up over allegations.

There was a moment where I simply decided that I had to ignore this and hope it went away. Many women lived blissful lives in ignorance. I had my boys and I had a happy life for all intents and purposes.

There were things that I found therapeutic and cleaning was one of them. It helped me distract my mind from the problems I faced in the world and this was one of those times. I was dusting the picture frames when I saw a picture we took last summer at a theme park. I remembered this day distinctly as it was a picture I was particularly proud of. The frame I had searched for days through various website until I found the perfect one. We were smiling and the picture presented a nice family moment despite the day being full of tantrums and rollercoastsers. It made me think about my marriage and how it was just like this picture, the image of perfect family but away from the camera, my husband was a cheater and I was the deluded housewife.

*Smash* the crashing sound filling the room as I threw the frame against the wall in a fit of rage and watched it as it shattered. That is how my husband made me feel in this moment.

My husband asked about the picture in the evening and I made an excuse about it falling and I had already ordered another frame.

"You take good care of the house," he said. It was usually a nice comment but today it filled me with rage. I had to bite down on my tongue as I looked at my husband in the bathroom brushing his teeth. How could he live so comfortably in this lie? My mind was going crazy with every minute that passed but I tried to forget and play the blissfully ignorant wife.

My husband and my kids kept me busy usually but it was when I was alone that I found it hard to stop thinking.

I was sat staring blankly at the wall as I tried to recall all the times he had said he was working late. It was usually two times a week. Did they meet in hotels? Were they happy with a passionate fuck in the store room? Toilets? Office desk? The thought of them stealing passionate moments and invariably mocking me, made me want to vomit. My mind was going crazy as I imagined Pamela being a seductress that took married men. But then her husband was so nice and decent and that brought my mind back to Mohit.

Something inside of me, urged me to call him. Only he could understand the pain that I was feeling in this moment.

"Hey, are you ok?" He answered. But I had no time to waste in making conversation on the telephone. I needed his calmness around me.

"Can we meet?" I asked. He said he would meet me as he had an hour free. I met him at a coffee shop not too far from the hospital.

He was sat in the corner of the coffee shop as though this was some clandestine meeting but in some ways we were doing something that was wrong, we were plotting and conspiring with each other. But it was necessary to ensure that we acted with certainty. If we were wrong, our lives would be drastically changed.

He had this withered look of a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. A rough, small unkempt beard of a man that was simply not grooming himself rather than someone who was a beard aficionado. He had these kind eyes but he looked like a man that was haunted.

After exchanging awkward pleasantries I asked the question that had been plaguing my mind, "How can you be so certain?" My hand was shaking and I moved to the side and placed it under my thigh to stop myself from rattling.

"How much certainty do you need? The messages I showed you were discovered by pure chance as her messages were being downloaded on to our family tablet due to her connecting the devices. I have checked her bank statements but she is careful. A few transactions have stood out to me. Late night meals, coffee dates..." he said and then awkwardly looked around at the coffee shop we were in. It brought me back to the idea that we should not be talking and definitely not meeting.

"But have you seen them together?!" I asked as I am forced to lift my hand up to gesticulate in my frustration. My hand is shaking once more as my nerves get the better of me.

"I know. The unknown is killing me. But the evidence will be in Arjun's bank statements. They must be paying for the hotels somehow," he said.

"Even if they need a hotel," I said as those thoughts of them seeking passion in all manner of places flooded my mind briefly.

He gave me a confused look as though this fact only dawned on him that they could be fucking on his desk right now without the need for a hotel

"I don't handle the finances," I said quickly to bring us back to our conversation and out of these dark illicit thoughts. It suddenly dawned on me how little control I had over my own life, never mind my husband's.

I am on the verge of tears and he holds my trembling hand as he senses my emotional vulnerability.

"I am sorry for hurting you," he said but he didn't hurt me. We were both being hurt by people who should be protecting us.

He had a tender touch and I felt something deep within me as the touch of our hands brought a deeper connection. There was a warmth that I had not felt in a long time and that he was able to bring from his touch. His fingers and thumb delicately rubbing my palm brought a calmness to my mind and body. For a moment I was lost in the moment and unable to withdraw until the waitress interrupted us.

I did not let any further contact occur between us as there was something strange developing between us. The goodbye was awkward as he leaned in for a hug but I backed away and gave a wave. He was polite and awkwardly waved back as we both left the shop. What was I afraid of? It was hard to explain what I felt. There had been a pain that blocked myself feeling such things but his touch brought a long dormant feeling out of me. It was the thing I was afraid of.

As I was driving out of the car park, I drove past the car of a family friend. I had to be evasive to ensure I was not seen by her but it made me rule out the coffee shop for any future meetings.

My mind would flip backwards and forwards about what to do. Why could I not merely live in an ignorant bliss? My life was so good. But then I would get those pangs of jealous rage where I wanted to cause pain to my husband. He could be doing the most routine thing and I would want to hurt him. If I did not know the truth, the suspicions would kill our relationship.

He was usually guarded with his phone and he had a 6 digit code or fingerprint protection to unlock the device. There were 4 potential codes I had in mind. Anniversary. Nope, I tried that. My date of birth. Nope again. I tried both our boys date of birth and it was nope again. Those were the four codes I had thought he would use but he didn't.

I had tried to spy the password but still no luck. I had only managed to capture the first two digits 27. I was getting paranoid and crazy but I tried to act like the perfect housewife.

He had left his phone on charge and it was only ever during this time that I could try to use the phone. These actions were for people much conniving than I. I could never be a spy.

Some nights I would scroll Pamela's social media to see what made her so special. She never posted her husband. She did not seem to care for him. For a mother, she posted a lot of pictures in what I would term as slutty dresses but she was still on the right side of thirty. She was a lot younger than Mohit and I could see the reasons for the tension in their relationship but I was definitely on his side. I had been scrolling some time when a notification popped up. A work anniversary. 27th March, a date a few days away from date that had been etched into my mind.

That date was important to me for a much different reason. It was the date I lost my daughter, 20 weeks into my pregnancy. It was quite traumatic for me and it was a pain that made me want to block all notions of romance and love from my mind.

The next time I got access to his phone and to my shock the date of her work date worked. My husband never knew the date I lost my baby but it still hurt that in the days of immense pain for me was a day he kept as his password.

Once I was in, Mohit's words stayed with me. I went to his banking apps and downloaded his statements for every card he had. I quickly sent them to my phone and deleted any trace of me accessing them. My heart was pumping and it felt like I was on a secret mission. There was some dark thrill in working covertly with Mohit.

The trips with Mohit were becoming risky and I feared being accused of having an affair. Mohit suggested a diner out of town that was secluded and mainly used by out of towners but I hated this idea and then he suggested a quiet motel that would allow us to meet and park in a secluded area. It was only after I put the phone down that I regretted agreeing to this.

On the day, I was nervous as hell about meeting in the motel room but we needed somewhere private where we would not be seen. I parked behind the motel and out of view of any visitors or passers by. Mohit had told me the room number and I was about to knock on the door when he was there waiting for me and opened the door before I could knock.

He let me in and he was just as nervous as me as I could see the sweat patches on his shirt and the sweat on his brow.

It was awkward as we exchanged pleasantries and then he asked me what I found.

"I have these but I don't know what I am looking for," I said as I handed my phone over to him with the bank statements opened. My husband and I never really swapped or shared phones but I felt I could trust Mohit, a stranger to me. But in a strange way we were connected by our partners' actions.

He began to search some things on his phone and I asked curiously, "What have you found?"

"Have you received flowers in the last few months?" He asked.

"No," I replied.

"He has spent over $200 on flowers in the last 2 months. It seems like a waste as Pamela does not bring them home," he tries to make a joke and I am unable to suppress a giggle.

"Is there anything else?" I asked.

"He has spent quite a lot on jewellery and some lingerie. I mean at a lingerie store. I don't know what he bought of course. Could he have bought these for you?" he asked.

"What store?" I asked. My birthday was 6 months ago and I got a bracelet but these were recent purchases. Lingerie? He never bought that for me.

Mohit brought up the website and the lingerie was quite lewd. "Do you wear such items?" He asked and it seemed to be inappropriate but we were also trying to figure out if our partners were cheating and in that context his curiosity seemed reasonable.

"A long time ago," I replied and his eyes briefly glanced at my body. Was he imagining me in such items? This was bad. So bad. We were playing with fire by being here alone.

He then lay back on the bed and groaned in frustration.

"Pamela has said she does not want any more children and we go months at a time without sex," he said but I kind of had sympathy with a woman not wanting sex after the trauma of giving birth.

He was staring up at the ceiling in deep thought and I just lay back also joined him in staring at the ceiling.

"Mohit, if Pamela was not sleeping with my husband. It would not be wrong of her to not want sex or children after birth. Men only have to worry about testosterone but women have hundreds of different hormones to balance and our bodies go crazy during pregnancy and after," I tried to explain.