Lover At The Door, continued

... continued.

After a few seconds later she receives a text, looks at the sender and puts the phone back in the pocket without opening the message, because I'm watching: it's from him then. I leave the room.

The message I sent him was, 'If you don't answer this question, I'll let your partner know about your affair with my wife. What is the relationship with my wife for you? A) a short-term fling, B) a long term affair, C) any other answer that will sound genuine.'

I don't mean to do anything of the sort. I don't even know if he has a wife. I'm just curious how he will handle this. It's a little test - I think - a little challenge for him. And for them.

A minute later she's putting on her coat, 'I'm leaving for two hours', she leans into the room I'm in. Before she closes the door I tell her, 'If you leave now, I'll do tomorrow what I said I would!'. I'm completely taken aback at her priorites: she's supposed to go in an hour's time to the movies with our daughter, they already have the tickets. Why can't he just write 'I love her', 'I don't know', or whatever. Is he that dumb, doesn't trust I'll respect the deal or doesn't want to commit anything to writing and can't bear to call me?

'Do what you like. You can't touch me anymore', she says and leaves.

I wasn't expecting such a turn of events, but I knew I played with fire.

'If she leaves now, your woman knows all on Monday', I text him and wait. Anxious, very anxious. She showed where her priority lay. I want to show her where it should be - with our daughter and now I'm ready to do everything I can to bring her back to her family, not let her desert us like that.

'Are you relishing this power?', she asks via a message sent from the car, I'm sure. 'Yes, I am. It compensates for a few things', is my reply. 'You've got 15 minutes'. 'I'm on my way. My last journey towards you', she writes and is back in 10.

I stay in the lounge smoking the hookah. They leave for the cinema without her and me exchanging even one look. A moment later my phone rings - it's him and I silence the phone and send him 'text!'. I don't want to talk to him, don't want to show to him that he is that important, as he isn't. He tries again, I do the same.

Some quarter of an hour later, the bell rings! It's the main door, our flat is on the 3rd floor. I answer and hear a worked-up and quite unpleasant, kind of 'primitive' voice: 'Come down, mate! Let's talk, c'mon let's talk!'. There's aggression in his voice, but it's not that which makes me say, 'I don't want to talk to you. I just asked you to answer one simple question, answer it. If you like.'

'You have no balls, sissy! Come down and talk!'. I'm tempted for a moment. But I don't want to see now the man who's ruined so much for me, because I think I'd dignify him by talking to him tonight in such circumstances. (And also it would ruin a certain plan of mine.) Apart from that, his coming here and making aggresive noises to me is outrageous. He's either mad or an aggresive and stupid simpleton.

He sends me another couple of texts, one of them quite rude. 'I'm really sorry for my former wife that such a rude simpleton is fucking her now!', is my reply.

It's very late when they come back from the cinema, I tell her, 'He was here. Sounds like a chav, I'm afraid'. I get the deadliest look I've ever gotten from her. She's full of pain, hate and sends tangible frost towards me. I'm almost sorry for her.

Before she closes the door and goes to bed, she tells me in her usual unorthodox way, 'You've torn the last cobweb'.