Strayed/Open #writephoto

thresholds
Photo by Sue Vincent

I walked into the house.  It was quiet.  It meant he hadn’t come as yet.  The corridor stretched endlessly before me.  I wondered what to do while I waited for him.  Ahead was the door leading to the large and cozy living-room.  That’s where he and I sat, curled up on the sofa, listening to Smooth Jazz while sipping wine.  I could wait in there.  I could go into the kitchen and prepare something for us to eat.  Or I could go upstairs and slip into something more comfortable.

I slipped off my sandals and walked through the first open door which led to the winding staircase.  I went upstairs to the master bedroom with the enormous canopy bed where he and I enjoy many trysts. I opened my overnight bag and took out my new black negligee.  I changed into it and put my clothes in the chair beside the door.  I ran my fingers through my hair as I crossed the carpet to look out of the window.

The view was splendid.  Thick foliage dotted the sprawling well maintained garden.  I loved this house.  It held so many wonderful memories for me albeit stolen ones.  This was our love nest.  I sat down on the window seat, drew my knees up and wrapped my arms around them.  Any moment now, I should hear the approach of his car.  As soon as I do, I will run down to greet him with a hug and a kiss.

I tried not to think about what I was doing.  I had tried not to do that for five years now.  Growing up in a Christian home, I was always taught that marriage was sacred and that adultery was a sin.  I used to look down on friends and family whom I knew were having extramarital affairs.  Not once did I imagine that one day I would do the very thing I condemned others for.  When I met Julian, I didn’t know that he was married.  He was handsome and charming.  I fell quickly and hard.

We started seeing each other.  I suspected that something was up when we always go together at my place and I was never invited to his.  And we went to certain restaurants and I didn’t have his home number.  I didn’t know where he worked or anything about his family.  Whenever I wanted to introduce him to mine, he would find some excuse why he couldn’t.  One night, I asked him pointblank if he was in a relationship.  He reluctantly admitted that he was married.  That floored me.  A girlfriend or even a fiancee I could deal with but a wife?

When he saw my reaction, he apologized for not being open and honest with me.  He said that he was afraid that if I knew that he was married, I wouldn’t get involved with him.  He knew I was a Christian and what I believed.  I went home that night and cried.  I was so torn up inside about the whole thing.  I was madly in love with him.  I loved being with him.  I was happiest when I was with him.  He was my world.

For weeks, I wrestled with my heart and my conscience.  My heart won and I continued seeing him.  I stopped going to church because I didn’t want to be a hypocrite.  I still read my Bible but I avoided the scriptures which spoke of adultery and fornication and such things.   I loved Julian and I wanted to be with him.

I know that Julian loves me and I make him happy.  I don’t think he loves his wife or that he’s happy with her.  I hope that one day, he will end his marriage.  Until then, I will continue to see him on the quiet like this.  I hear his car now.  Eagerly, I rise from the window seat and race out of the room.  Taking two steps at a time, I reach the bottom of the staircase just as he opens the door and steps into the foyer.  He smiles when he sees me and as soon as he closes the door, I rush over to him and throw my arms around him.  He laughs, picks me up, swings me around before he kisses me.

At this moment, I’m not thinking about his wife or how far I have strayed from my moral principles.  All that matters right now is that we are together.

The few hours I spend with you are worth the thousand hours I spend without you.purelovequotes.com

bw of woman looking out window

This was written for the #writephoto Prompt – Open at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

10 thoughts on “Strayed/Open #writephoto

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