Her Greatest Mistake

Gently, I right myself. ‘I have to,’ I say.

Six months ago, I had so much pent-up hate for this person before me. The betrayal ran like hot lava, as blood, through my veins. We’ve since travelled over these grounds: how she was sucked into his charms, without the strength to escape. Entangled, further and further by lies. Until she could bear to face me no longer. You threatened to tell me, either way, and by this time her entire life was consumed by you. Her job, her home, and her unborn child – I now know to be Iris. In time, my hate morphed to hurt, then to a level of appreciative understanding. Now, I only see someone who was taken in by you. In the same way each and every one of us was.

‘My luck has to change some time. Doesn’t it?’ My eyes plug with tears, mimicking the ones rolling down her cheeks, as I reach out to pull her into my arms.

She hugs me tight. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispers.

Eventually, I pull back, holding her at arm’s length. ‘Sam, we agreed, didn’t we? No, more “sorry?” s, no more looking back. It’s the only way.’

She sniffs loudly, whilst pulling a tissue from her bag, as I discreetly wipe my own tears. ‘We did. I just can’t believe… I’m here, with you. Together. It’s so bloody brilliant.’

I link my arm through hers as we begin to walk. ‘Lunch is most definitely on you,’ I say. ‘You do realise, you still owe me for the Chinese takeaway.’

A couple of hours fly by, as we plunge back to a fraction of who we once were before you. Giggling about all the antics and scenarios we’ve shared. I talk to her about Billy, who’s also now moved on to pastures new. Returning to his old love, sailing, and living on his new boat in Dartmouth harbour. But, mostly, I talk about my Jack. Then I learn about Iris. I look up from my glass of Merlot towards 39b Lemon Street, and notice Ruan ambling towards it. I nod in his direction. ‘Over there,’ I say. ‘Look. It’s Ruan.’

‘That’s Ruan!’ she says. ‘Just as you described. Couldn’t look more like a surfer, could he?’

‘He’ll be opening up for me,’ I say, still watching him.

‘But I thought you said you’d closed the clinic down, couldn’t cope with it?’

‘I did, I couldn’t. But it’s been six months, Sam. Time to move on, don’t you think?’

She takes my hand, squeezing tightly. ‘This is the most wonderful news!’

A couple of weeks ago, I opened my eyes. Sharp sun rays piercing the windows. The cotton wool a little more transparent. Jack exhausting his vocals to some latest song. I wouldn’t allow you to do this. To take any more of me, us, than you already had. I hotfooted myself to the beach to find Ruan. To ask for his help, to re-establish my business, our life. He was thrilled. The next day, Ruan, Jack and I arrived at 39b Lemon Street. We scrubbed off the old, splashed on the new. Only stopping for sustenance and sleep.

It occurred to me from somewhere, in the early hours of that morning.

You may always be there, skulking in the depths, amongst the swirling lies. But ultimately, it came down to a truth to finally unlock my door…

…evil can live on, even when it’s dead, but only if I allow it to.

Sarah Simpson's books