\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2324094-Strangers
Item Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Relationship · #2324094
Snowy winter evening, old memories came flooding back on the commuter train
As I got on the train she was already sitting there, same place as ever, watching the snow outside. It was March but the winter did not want to give up, just like me. I took a seat opposite her and looked at her, fascinated by her charm and elegance. She wore a black coat, matching hat and pearl earrings. We looked at each other, I nodded, she too, that was all, not a word.

I used to know her quite well, once we were passionately in love. I thought that would never end, but I was wrong. Her name is Frances, at that time she was a journalist, divorced a second time, lived alone with her daughter.

We met on the commuter train late winter, and started small-talking one afternoon. Snow blew against the window, we could hardly see anything outside. I immediately felt I needed her, that fate had brought us together.

We used to meet at the Hotel Romantic, three corners away from her place. I was still married, and we did not want to be seen around my house. Even though my marriage was in ruins, I still cared for my family, my wife and my daughter.

“You are like a bird in a cage” she used to say with a sigh “you want to be free, but you are a good man, you’ll never be able to do it”. I always wondered why she said it. Did she want me to get divorced and marry her? To show that she was wrong?

But I knew she was right, I never wanted to hurt anyone, especially not people who relied on me. I thought my wife would be more offended when she knew I had a mistress, so I just played my small games, small lies for a few hours a week with Frances.

There were only a few occasions when we could spend some days together, like when I visited a training course abroad and she booked a room in the same hotel. I left the training as soon as I could, and we spent most of the time together. Fortunately, none of my close colleagues were there, I did not have to make up excuses.

“How would it be to spend a life together?” I asked her once, still holding her after we made love in the hotel room. “Do you think it would work out with me?” After two divorces she did not really believe in marriage.

“You should only ask questions if you really want to know the answer” she said and put her pointer finger on my lips. “But you can keep on dreaming, everything is possible.”

Why it finally led to my divorce, I cannot really explain. I wanted more and more of her and I was also jealous of her. Because of our special relationship, she spent most of the weekends alone, I mean without me. She travelled a lot with her daughter, alone and with friends that I did not really want to know anything of. I thought I could trust her so there was no need to worry.

It might have been no problem for me at the beginning but after some time I thought even if she said she was not going to marry again, was she really satisfied with living alone? And if she was satisfied, how could I be sure that she wouldn’t meet someone whom she falls in love with and would not need me any more.

Even though I had my family, I could not imagine how I could live without her. If it was love, or only something we call love, the desire to possess someone, I do not know, but I felt like I was losing the meaning of my life when I thought of it. She did not want me to divorce, at least she told me that several times.

“It will never be the same again between us” she used to say. “We will lose something forever.” I should have listened to her.

As I looked at her sitting opposite me on the train I knew what she meant, but at that time I could not foresee it, I just wanted to have her for myself alone as if we could possess anyone entirely. Later, I found out that she never ever wanted to be anyone’s possession ever again. I should have known her much better.

I did not want to tell my wife that I loved someone else. I thought it would be more degrading to find out the truth, so I simply told her that I could not live like that any longer. She also felt that during all those years we had moved far away from each other, but she thought we could still repair it, make some changes, talk to each other, but I had already decided.

I just could not wait to tell Frances the good news, to present her my surprise.
I can still see us there, my wife and me, sitting sad and quiet both of us as they announced our divorce. Frances was right, I was a good man, I could not believe I had done it.

After my divorce, my relationship with Frances changed very slowly but very definitely in a direction that I never wanted, that I always feared but I was almost sure would come sooner or later. Sometimes she just announced she had some other program for the evening so we could not meet, or a colleague invited her somewhere I was not really supposed to go. Suddenly she booked a city trip with her friends although we had already planned for a long weekend. She even enjoyed it when she saw me disappointed. It was like the final act at the bullfighting, she was only waiting for the right moment to stick her sable in me.

One summer day, late in the evening, after she had cancelled our rendezvous, I saw them coming out from a restaurant, laughing and holding each other's hands. I watched Frances and understood immediately that she never really loved me, she just played her small game with me, how far I would go to keep her, whether I would get divorced because of her. She knew me better than I did myself.

The train stopped abruptly, I heard the brakes creaking, people shouting. I opened my eyes and looked around, I was alone again and forever. I will never understand why I was not good enough for Frances. I imagined her again on the opposite seat and could not feel my anger any more, she was still part of my life even though I had not seen her for a long time.

But I was sure one day she would be there again, sitting opposite me, in her black hat and pearl earrings, looking at me with her beautiful eyes, and we would not be strangers any more.

“So you are here” she would say and I would answer “I’ve always been here, waiting for you.” We would then get off the train and the wind would stir the snow in our footstep and we would disappear in the snowstorm.

(Wordcount 1200)
© Copyright 2024 Josh T. Alto (ltotl at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2324094-Strangers