The Other Woman

Quietly, Mhairi slipped into bed beside her husband. His familiar snuffling snores told her he was deeply asleep, blissfully unaware of her return. He wouldn’t appreciate being woken before dawn. Normally she’d smile at the sound, but tonight it barely registered.

Her mind was still in Harvies.

Even stubbing her toe on the bedside cabinet failed to drag her back to reality. The sharp pain was nothing compared with the ache booming in her chest. Every time she replayed what she’d seen the evening before, the tears threatened again. She felt absolutely heartbroken.

Wednesday nights belonged to the girls. For as long as any of them could remember, they had met at Harvies, the little restaurant overlooking the coast. Lobster, champagne and gossip. They never considered going anywhere else.

Ruby was already halfway through her first glass, commenting loudly on every man who walked through the door.

“The blond one at the back,” Mhairi whispered. “Definitely having dinner with his mother.”

Ruby nearly choked.

“No, Mhairi. That’s Eric Hemsford—and that’s his wife.”

The three women dissolved into laughter.

Champagne always loosened them. Sarah became louder. Ruby became bolder. Mhairi forgot, for a couple of hours, about everything else.

Ruby Healey, with her untamed flame red curls and sharper-than-anyone wit, had built the city’s most respected law firm instead of a family. Every Wednesday, after one glass too many, she’d declare undying love for her business partner, Peter Schmidt, before insisting she’d never marry him because she refused to become “Schmidt & Schmidt.” or just plain “Schmidt’s” as Peter would tease.

Sarah, meanwhile, had collected husbands the way other people collected handbags. Twice divorced, three times married, two children, an Audi with no usable back seat and enough stories to fill a novel. If ever you needed someone to support you through life’s trials and tribulations, Sarah was not your girl.

When Ruby stood up, she flashed her usual grin.

“Off to powder my nose.”

The wink that followed meant only one thing. She was leaving early, exactly as she did every week. “Part- timer!” they would retort with a mocking eye roll.

Laughing, Mhairi slid along the cream leather booth to sit beside Sarah.

From there she could see the entire restaurant. The pianist in the corner delivering an atmospheric soft jazz, a family group celebrating a birthday with their table adorned in 75th balloons. Smiling to herself, family time was precious to Mhairi, she had no kids but has been married for fifteen years. A successful marriage as she would call it.

Then she saw him.

Everything inside her stopped.

Her hand froze around the stem of her champagne flute.

She couldn’t breathe.

She nudged Sarah without taking her eyes off the couple by the window.

Sarah followed her gaze.

Her face drained of colour.

“Oh…” she whispered. “Mhairi…”

The man was leaning towards the woman opposite him, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear with effortless tenderness.

He smiled.

The same smile.

The smile that had made Mhairi fall hopelessly in love with him.

Sarah reached for her hand.

“I had no idea.”

“It’s not your fault.” she said as she pressed a finger against her lips in an attempt at self control. Her own voice sounded distant.

“He knows we are here every other Wednesday. He knows this is our place.”

She swallowed hard.

“So why would he bring her here?”

Her throat tightened until breathing hurt.

“He knows the rules.”

Across the room he laughed at something the woman had said.

He never looked their way, he was completely engrossed in this woman who was saturated in his obvious adoration.

“Oh my God,” Sarah muttered. “I can’t believe he’d do this.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Say the word and I’ll pour the wine over her head.”

Despite everything, Mhairi managed a weak smile.

“No.”

“You want me to tell him exactly what I think?”

“No.”

“I could still accidentally trip into their table.”

Mhairi almost laughed.

Instead she stared.

Watching him reach across the table. Watching him smile. Watching him touch another woman as though she’d always belonged there.

When the waiter approached, Sarah pointed at the empty bottle.

“Another champagne.”

She looked at Mhairi.

“And two large shots.” Mhairi ordered without moving her eyes from the back of his head.

As the waiter walked away, Mhairi imagined crossing the restaurant.

She imagined grabbing his hand before he could pull away. Pounding his chest

Asking why. Begging him to look at her and recognise the hurt he was forcing inside her as tears filled eyes.

To remember everything he’d promised. To remind him she loved him, that he loved her, she was sure he did.

But she stayed exactly where she was.

Silent.

Invisible.

Eventually he asked for the bill then he helped the woman into her coat as she swept up her long brown hair from inside her coat and playfully swished it against him as it fell back into place. He smiled at her, intimately, as he rested his hand against the small of her back and guided her towards the door. Together they disappeared into the night.

Only then did Mhairi let herself cry.

Sarah said nothing.

She simply kept refilling their glasses until the second bottle was almost empty.

“You should come home with me,” she said quietly.

Mhairi nodded.

At dawn she woke on Sarah’s sofa with a pounding headache and a stomach full of regret.

Before leaving, she scribbled a note.

Thank you. Please don’t tell anyone.

Twenty minutes later, the taxi pulled into her driveway.

Now, here she was creeping back into bed, praying he wouldn’t wake.

Praying he wouldn’t ask where she’d been.

The pain in her toe made her gasp.

Beside her, Fraser stirred.

His arm drifted sleepily across her legs.

“Darling,” he mumbled. “Everything alright? You’re up early.”

For a heartbeat she couldn’t answer.

Images of Michael flooded back.

His smile.

His touch.

His hand resting possessively on another woman’s back.

She leaned over and kissed Fraser gently on the forehead.

“Everything’s fine, darling,” she whispered.

He smiled in his sleep.

Within seconds he was snoring again.

Mhairi lay awake until morning.

Grieving the man who had betrayed her…

And her husband, oblivious beside her.