The Other Woman

I stood and looked in the mirror. What was I playing at. The man that was in my kitchen broke my heart to point where I was infix able. Swarms of one night stands and tequila slammers could tell you that. But still, he made my legs turn to jelly at the thought of him and I couldn't help but picture the future we could have once had. I shrugged my dress off. What a fool I was thinking that it would turn into a fairytale the second he stepped through my front door. I pulled out the first clean thing I could find; a jumper and jeans would have to do, I wasn't wasting any more fuss over a man that cheated and lied to me.
I walked down the stairs, suddenly nervous; what was he here to say. Would he say sorry, or would he make small talk, see how I was doing and then leave. I hoped to God for the latter; I don't think I could deal with an apology.
“You're a beautiful little puppy aren't you?” I heard Harry baby talking to Archie.
“He is isn't he,” I replied in awe of the image of Harry holding Archie to his face and pulling faces at him. Archie of course loved the attention and proceeded to lick Harry’s face all over.
“Tea” I asked as I walked through to the kitchen. I daren't make eye contact with him, the mere thought of looking into his eyes turned my stomach into a butterfly house.
“Yes p-” he was cut off by another tongue bath by the pup. I flicked the kettle on, and started to make two cups of tea. “Milk-”
“One sugar.” I finished his sentence and suddenly it felt like we were back in our own place, laughing over stupid jokes while we made dinner.
“I’m sweet enough.” He joked, putting Archie on the floor near his bowls. “So what have you been up to?” Small talk. That was good, I can do small talk.
“Not much. I started at the beeb a few months ago.” I couldn’t think of anything else he would be interested in hearing.
“I heard.” He watched the puppy sniffle around and sit at my feet. “You did a good job reporting on the big day.” He mumbled, still looking away.
“I was really busy that day. You had us all rushed off our feet.” I turned as the kettle boiled, ready to fill the mugs with hot water. What the hell was I saying?! I know I was taught to be polite, but there’s only so much I could have said before it turned one of three ways: it could get really awkward, really easily, I’ll jump on him and not be able to hold back, or worse, I could say the wrong thing altogether and start an argument that I really don’t want to happen.
“It was…” It seemed like he didn’t know what to say. Thank goodness for that, because I couldn't either. “It was a good day.” It didn’t sound like it. Everything about him screamed ‘THAT WAS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE AND I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT’.
“Charlotte looked so cute, how old is she now?” I smiled at the memory of watching Charlotte in a little white dress smiling at everyone as she walked down the aisle next to her brother George.
“She was four last May.” He seemed shocked himself.
“Doesn’t time fly.,” I passed him his cup of tea.
“And George is six now.”
“It makes you feel old doesn’t it?” I sighed, remembering when the two Cambridge children were born. We leaned on the kitchen worktop together.
“I think I owe you an apology.” Shit. Here it was: ‘the conversation’. At some point every ex-couple has ‘the conversation’ where they ‘clear the air’ but really, it turns into a huge argument and it makes everything worse than it was before. I took a deep breath.
“You didn’t deserve any of that.” He watched the tea moving in his mug as he swirled it. “I think I made a series of stupid decisions and now I’ve made a mess.”
“You haven’t made a mess at all.”
“I have,” he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans as he sat on a stool at the kitchen island. “I have made a huge mess. I haven’t spoken to Skippy in years. Even Will and Kate won’t talk to me sometimes.” With a sigh, he leaned forward and rested his forehead on his arms. My heart instantly felt sympathetic, but the tiniest part of my brain told me it was a scam.
“You’re married to your beautiful wife, the Invictus games is huge, and Sentebale is helping more people than ever. You have not made a mess at all.” I rested my hand on his shoulder reassuringly but the feel of his sturdy shoulder and the softness of his fleece transported me back to a time when I could kiss it all better. “Apart from that beard, you haven’t made a mess at all.” I quipped.
“What’s wrong with the beard?!” He feigned shock.
“You look like a lumberjack Buster.” Shit. Talk about making a mess of things. His old nickname just slipped out of my mouth!
“Maybe I like looking like a lumberjack.” He laughed along. In spite of a distant smile on his face, he still seemed sad. “I have made a mess of the most important thing.”
“What’s that?” I sipped at my tea.
“You and me.”