The Crying Woman (: formerly published)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
One man, two women - or are there many more ....

Submitted: November 13, 2009

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Submitted: November 13, 2009



The pounding went on and on. Alice opened her eyes, exasperated at this awful noise piercing her sleep at such an early hour. After a short while she stood up and went to the door. When she put her eye to the small, round spy's eye she got a surprise. The person pounding on her door at six in the morning was her best friend, Susan.
She opened the door and Susan shot into the hall, all flustered and out of breath. "Oh!" Alice exclaimed, "You frightened me, what's going on?"
Susan caught her breath and said: "Paul is leaving me for another woman. I just found out."
"Another woman? A mistress? Paul? How ..."
Susan stared at her: "I don't know her name, but I just overheard a telephone conversation ... and he talked of some furniture they were to buy. It's obvious, he has decided to leave me and move in with her ..."
"What? Has he told you so?!"
"No, but I overheard that telephone conversation ... and he promised her ... Besides ... she hesitated a little and then went on: "Besides, last week I saw him in her house, in the window."
"Gosh! What ... how ... OK, what did he do?"
"Kissed her ..."
"Ohhh ..."
"Yes, and I've set a detective on him," Susan said bitterly with a quiver in her voice that made Alice realize that her friend was about to burst into tears. She put her arms around her and stroke her hair. "Oh, Susan," she said, "you must have misunderstood him. Perhaps they were talking of somebody else."
Susan looked impatiently at her. "At six in the morning? No, he talked of "we" and "us" which means him and that creature ...." She couldn't hold her sorrow in reins anymore, but put her head to Alice's shoulder and wetted her nightie through and through with her tears.
Alice took her by the hand and led her to the sofa. They sat down and she said: "OK, I believe you although it's a strange tale ..."
"That's because you never liked him. He is such a charming man, quite wonderful actually and everybody but you adore him ..."
Alice just patted her hand and then went to find some blankets to make a temporary bed on her sofa for her friend. Also she found a mild sedative for her, turned off the light and closed the door. Then she went out into the kitchen and picked up the extension. She dialled a number she knew only too well: "Hello, hello," a well-known voice shouted into her ear, "Hello, Susan, is that you?"
"No," Alice said in a voice like icy water.
"Oh," he said, "You ... Well, she isn't here ..."
"I know. She is with me and she is asleep. How could you treat her this cruelly?"
"Me?!" he exclaimed, "Am I the only traitor here?"
"You are the only unfaithful one ..."
"Unfaithful", he sneered, "How well that word becomes you. Unfaithful, yes you are."
"We never were married, remember," she sneered back at him, suddenly remembering the unexpected love, nah passion, between them two years ago. Oh yes, she thought, Susan was right, he is charming and everybody do adore him ... I'm the only one who hates him ... now.
"Stop the crap! Susan has put a detective on you ..."
"Whatever for?"
" --- and so have I, half a year ago ..."
"Crazy! Totally deranged."
"No, wise and as you may guess, I struck gold, and so will she ..."
There suddenly came a laden silence in the phone, in the room, in her ears and actually in the world at large. Then he said: "So now you know ..."
"Yes, you unfaithful bastard!"
"And Susan does too? You told her and she rushed to you?"
"Her detective will find out, but right now she only knows that you are in love with someone else and want to leave her for this mystery woman."
A sigh with relief seeved from the phone and she couldn't keep back a smile at this sound from the man three blocks away, the man she had loved even though nobody knew about it.
"Well, Susan, I shall come for her now. Perhaps I can make her see that that detective isn't necessary."
"Yeah do that and let me tell her what's necessary ..."
"How revengeful you are ..."
She forced the words, lying on her tongue, eager to be shot into the phone, back. It was necessary to keep her mouth shut and not tell him about her sorrow, her anguish at him leaving her after their short and secret affair. "I know something, and you know that I do so stop the crap. However, we have to talk so meet me here later today." He didn't answer, but hung up.
Alice tiptoed into the sitting-room to see how Susan was. She wasn't really surprised to find her sitting on the sofa, only having slept for an hour or so. "How are you," she asked in a kind voice.
"I came to think of something the detective said and then I couldn't sleep anymore."
"He said that another woman had trusted him to investigate Paul and that he had found "something" ... She had cried ..."
Oh yes, that other woman had cried, Susan thought to herself, suddenly turning cold with the memory, and why not? Now it was Alice's turn to cry and he might too. Actually, whoever had had anything to do with him might cry.
She thought of the heaps of papers the detective had shown her, all those copies of certificates that poor Susan also were to see, all those photoes of him, no Adonis, but with "something". Not to speak of all those photoes of women and of children. Her turn, oh yes, her turn to realize the truth about the man she had married - as had 17 other women, almost at the same time even though there had been no divorces ...

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