If You Only Knew

By Sonja L Myburgh

When two people are so right for each other that it would be wrong if they weren't together, even if both of them are married... 

Aimee and Tristan thought they were happily married to their spouses, but an undeniable attraction between them proved them wrong. A story of love, extra-marital affairs and two people who, under no circumstances, could stay away from each other. 
As things are heating up between the two of them, their relationships with their spouses start deteriorating. 
Tristan feels Aimee is putting too much pressure on him to leave Gwen, but startling news shakes the foundation of their already fragile relationship. 
Not so close encounters lead to a lot of questions from family members, and when a near-fatal accident changes the lives of everyone involved, will true love prevail? 

**Contains adult themes, mild violence, moderate language and sexual content** 
*Not suitable for readers younger than 18 due to the aforementioned themes*

• Language: English
• Publisher: Feathermore Publishing
• Release date: Jan 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386984788

Sonja L Myburgh

Sonja L Myburgh lives in Port Elizabeth, South Africa with her husband Mark, and her busy toddler, Aimee. She is the author of romance novels On The Line, A Bullet For You, If You Only Knew, Between Rubies and Opals, and historical fantasy trilogy, Return To Salem.  Her latest release, Waiting On Normal is based on true events and revolves around the diary entries of Callie, a girl with bipolar disorder, documenting her struggles, as well as her accomplishments, with this highly misunderstood disorder. Sonja started writing ever since she could remember, and even from a very young age, she enjoyed writing essays, short stories and enjoyed reading. "I was that kid in class who had their hand up first when it came to oral, and every day I'd pray for an essay assignment. Yeah, I was that kid."  "Writing, to me, is like therapy, which is what all us writers needs! I love writing because it allows me to express myself in words and then ultimately letting others read them." -If a writer of prose knows enough about what he is writing about, he may omit things that he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them. The dignity of movement of an iceberg is due to only one-eighth of it being underwater. - Ernest Hemingway

Book preview

A Few Words from the Author

Initially, when writing If You Only Knew, I knew that it was a very controversial subject. Infidelity has broken up millions (if not more) homes and it is intolerable, in my opinion.

If You Only Knew has infidelity, I admit that, but it is about much more than just a seedy affair.

Look, I’ll never condone this type of behavior, but this happens on an everyday basis. That’s the reality of the world, as upsetting as it may be.

You’ll either love this book, or you’ll hate it, and that is fine by me. Different strokes for different folks, as they say.

Sonja L Myburgh

A Special Thanks

To everyone that helped with the reading and re-reading, editing and re-editing, designing and redesigning, it means the world to me!

To everyone that I observed, and those who inspired me, thank you for adding a bit of yourself into this work of art.

To the love of my life, that made me believe in the power of true love again, despite what other people considered to be real!

xxx S xxx

If You Only Knew

Chapter 1

Aimee

You know that moment when you meet someone and you know that your life is about to change drastically, and it will never, ever be the same again? The moment when your perfect life with all its perfect decisions don’t seem so perfect anymore? The moment when you start doubting everything you have ever decided on, everything you have ever heard and perceived to be real, and everything you have ever felt? Well, that was exactly how I felt last year, middle February, right after Valentine’s Day. The moment that made all these things happen.

My name is Aimee-Lee Crawford. I’m twenty-seven years old and live in the beautiful city of Chicago with my husband of three years, Jason. I’m a photographer, by trade and passion, and have my own private studio, Optical Allusions, in the upper side of the city.

It was a cool Friday afternoon in the middle of February when he walked into the gallery for the first time. I was in my office overlooking the gallery floor, watching Sam and Demi – my two lovely and capable assistants. They were moody because they had to endure another dateless Valentine’s Day. With miserable looks and slumped shoulders, they were setting up a giant display in one corner of the gallery using photographs I took a few months ago of the Grand Canyon. As soon as the door opened and they spotted him coming through the door, their moods evaporated and they were practically glowing. Wearing a dark gray, and obviously expensive formal suit paired with a black tie, he strutted confidently towards them. They were falling over their feet to get to him first, but he looked at them in a nonchalant way, as if he didn’t even notice them. I knew who he was, the whole Chicago knew who he was, but I had never met him officially. Eventually Demi started talking to him, and Sam retreated out the door, probably jealous because Demi was hogging the poor man. When he flashed her the most charming smile I had ever seen, I swear Demi melted right on the spot. I saw them exchange a few words and Demi turned and walked in the direction of the office. My door opened and she walked inside.

Oh my god, he is so hot, Demi whispered breathlessly.

I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. She was flustered and fanned herself with her hand.

Breathe Demi. I shook my head as she took a few deep breaths.

He’s here for your services, she grinned suggestively at me.

Right. I grabbed my notepad and pen from my desk.

I’m so jealous.

Demi, please. You’re being ridiculous.

I shook my head at her in disapproval as I walked towards the gallery floor, Demi was following closely and I frowned at her.

Too bad he’s married, she whispered.

So am I, I frowned and looked at her. Are those enlargements ready yet?

I’ll get right on it. She scrambled towards the dark room and I shook my head at her again.

What on Earth would she be jealous about? Well, let me tell you, as soon as I saw him, intensely studying my photographs, I knew why they were all swooning like a bunch of teenagers. I’ve seen a lot of hot men in my profession, but he was definitely amongst the ten best ones, ever.

Mister Roarke, I believe. I walked over to him and he turned to face me. Aimee Crawford.

His striking gaze took me by surprise and I stopped abruptly. His eyes were incredible, unlike any I have ever seen. Not even Jason’s eyes had that effect on me.

Miss Crawford, he smiled.

Missus Crawford. I tactfully corrected him.

Even better. He raised his eyebrow slightly and chuckled.

Even better? What the hell did that mean?

Well, Missus Crawford, Derek was definitely right about you, he gave me a crooked smile.

Why is that?

He said you were fantastic and for once he was not exaggerating.

I felt my heart start to pound in my chest and it confused me. Was he talking about me or my photographs? What the fuck, Aimee? Of course he meant your photographs.

Your photographs are mind-blowing.

Mind-blowing... Say what? I have heard a lot of different descriptions of my photos, but this was an absolute first. Mind-blowing. Fuck, he was mind-blowing.

That’s a compliment, I assure you. He turned to me and flashed me a smile.

Thank you so much.

He was gorgeous and not ordinary executive gorgeous. He was totally delicious model gorgeous. No wonder all the women in Illinois were after this man. When he smiled, the corners of his mouth curled, revealing a dimple on his right cheek.

Derek referred me to you. You did the photos at his wedding, he explained.

Derek and Lauren, of course. How do you know Derek?

Derek is my best friend. We have known each other for many years, he smiled at me and turned towards one of my favorite shots. It was an underwater shot of three clownfish swimming amongst the sea anemones that I took a few months ago when Jase and I were in Australia. The colors were magnificent and it felt as if you could reach out and touch them. He smiled slightly, before turning to me and gave me a nod.

I definitely want you, he said suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.

You want me? Um, okay. Just say when and where, handsome.

After I sneaked a quick look at his left hand, I was strangely disappointed by the fact that he was indeed married. Oh my god Aimee, stop it! I scolded myself as I looked down at my left hand and watched the light reflected off the diamond in my own wedding ring. I shoved those feelings out of my mind and concentrated on being professional at all times.

Your services. As a photographer, he said with an amused nod.

Obviously Aimee, why else would he be here? Not like the guy wanted to sleep with you. Get real.

Of course. What’s the occasion?

Family photographs. The ones we have are outdated.

And you trust Derek’s judgment?

Absolutely. My wife insisted I find the best photographer in Illinois, and by the looks of it, I think I have just found her, he said and his eyes were sparkling. They were magnificent.

I don’t know about the best in the whole of Illinois, Mister Roarke, but definitely in the Chicago area, I chuckled and winked at him.

Confidence, I like that, he laughed. What a laugh! You certainly know how to get someone’s attention.

I’ll take that as a compliment. I bit my bottom lip and usually it hid my suggestiveness, but for some reason, it did not this time. Just in case, I turned away from him, and let out a silent breath. I have different packages available, depending on your needs, of course.

I walked over to the front desk and could feel him looking at me, or was I imagining it? I grabbed a price list with all my packages and handed it to him. He took the list from me, scanned it over and looked at me.

The Couture will do perfectly.

Typical. If he wasn’t so hot, I’d almost think he was being a bit arrogant.

My Couture package was the most intense and the most expensive of all of my packages. Only well-known companies choose those, so it does not happen often that one person comes in and wants a Couture for family photos. Of course I knew he could afford it, so I didn’t question him at all, since he was already looking at me as if I was a little slow.

Of course. I jotted down a few notes in my notebook.

Good, he said, clearly satisfied with my quick response. When are you available?

Thankful to break eye contact with him, I paged through my diary checking which dates I had available. Business was good, I must admit and I was booked up for the next five weeks. The only other spot I could find was this coming Tuesday. Usually Tuesdays were my printing days, but for Tristan Roarke, I could most certainly make an exception.

Tuesday morning at nine?

Perfect, he nodded. A request if I may.

Of course. I tucked a strand of dark hair behind my ear and awaited his request.

I trust you will do something innovative and different, if you know what I mean. The last thing we need is another lot of photographs of us looking like posing idiots, he said and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Luckily for me, he also had a sense of humor and he chuckled as well.

I know exactly what you mean, Mister Roarke. I’m not the most conventional photographer, as you might have noticed.

Perfect, he took out his wallet and followed me as I walked to the front desk.

Normally I do require a deposit - I started, but he handed me his platinum Amex card.

Charge the full amount, Missus Crawford.

Please, call me Aimee.

Aimee, he said slowly, as if testing out my name for the first time. My name sounded so good coming off his lips and I wished he would say it again.

I took the card from him and charged the seventy five hundred dollars onto his card. It didn’t even seem to bother him and he signed the receipt in typical businessman fashion – without saying a word or batting an eyelash.

Here’s my business card. I trust you will pick out a suitable location for this session.

Actually... I smirked at him, handing him back his Amex. I was thinking of Millennium Park.

The Bean sculpture?

Yes. How did you- Oh my god. Did he just read my mind?

That is my favorite place in Chicago, he smiled, slipping his card back into his wallet and tucked it back into his jacket pocket.

Mine too, I said and studied his expression.

I look forward to seeing you Tuesday morning.

Same here. I had the lamest grin on my face and felt like an awkward teenager. What the Hell was wrong with me today?

Have a good weekend, Aimee.

You too, Mister Roarke. I watched as he turned and walked out of the studio.

I stared at the receipt in my hand for a few seconds and raised an eyebrow. Even the man’s signature was abnormally attractive, with all the right curves in all the right places. Oh boy, there I go again. I discarded my inappropriate thoughts of Tristan Roarke’s ‘curves’ when I saw Sam coming in through the front door, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. Her choppy blonde hair fell onto her face and she stopped abruptly, probably noticing my lame expression.

What’s wrong, Aimee?

Nothing. Liar!

Are you sure?

Yes. Sam, I need you to drop off the proofs on Monday afternoon, if that’s okay with you.

Of course, but why Monday? Don’t we normally do the printers on a Tuesday?

Normally we would yes, but we have an important Couture session Tuesday morning, I said calmly. And I need you and Demi to assist.

Both of us? Sam asked with a frown. She narrowed her eyes and looked at the door. She hesitated and I put my hand on my hip as I waited for the penny to drop. She looked back at me and her eyes went wide. Oh my god, don't tell me he -

Indeed. I tore out the perforated sheet and handed it to her.

Are you serious? she shrieked and grabbed the paper from me. Oh my god!

I nodded, Oh my god indeed.

Oh my god, she shrieked – more high-pitched this time – and Demi came running out the office.

Sam, you’re shrieking again, Demi said and rolled her eyes at Sam.

For good reason. We’re doing a session with Tristan Roarke, Sam shrieked again.

Oh shit! Are you serious? Demi also shrieked. Clothes or no clothes?

Uhm, with his wife, I rolled my eyes at Demi and Sam doing their happy dances and shook my head at them.

Party pooper, Demi frowned.

Why do you have to rain on our parade? Sam put her hand on her hip and looked at me.

Because I’m your boss, and that’s my job. I truly enjoyed those two girls, never a dull moment. I’m going to the darkroom. Could you two just try to be civil and get some work done?

We’ll try our best, Demi grinned and Sam nodded with a toothy grin.

Tuesday morning I had to give Demi and Sam a lecture about professional behavior and not to make it blatantly obvious to everyone that they thought Tristan Roarke was the hottest thing on the planet. They behaved themselves well, even when we did individual shots of Tristan. Gwen – his pretty blonde wife - was constantly hovering behind us, as if to keep a close eye on him. Oh my god, she was so beautiful! They looked good together, but I could see that she was territorial over him. But we had the same ideas of the setting of the photographs and how they were to be taken. The only thing that was odd for me was the way he looked at me, or should I rather say at the camera. He had the most intense eyes I’d ever seen and they literally made my pulse race faster than a roadrunner on Speed. After the shoot was over he came up to me as I was packing the last of my equipment. His eyes were bright and he looked excited and jovial.

That was fantastic, he smiled. You were fantastic.

My eyes scanned him over – for the millionth time today. The dark jeans and black button up shirt – sleeves rolled up to his elbows – that he was wearing truly did him justice. Then again, he did the clothes justice.

So were you. Be professional, for Heaven’s sake. Both of you.

When can I expect the proofs?

Editing takes about 3-4 weeks, normally, but I'll make yours my highest priority. I closed the lid of my silver lens case, trying my hardest not to look directly at him. I'll contact you as soon as they are done.

That would be great. Thank you.

You’re welcome, Mister Roarke.

I can’t wait to come see you.

Wait, what? Did I just –

For the proofs, I mean.

Sure. Yeah right, like that’s what he meant. For a second I swore his cheeks flushed slightly. Then again, I could feel my own cheeks flushing. Thank god for full coverage foundation.

Tris, I heard Gwen call behind me.

Coming, he answered her and looked at me. I will see you soon. Thank you again. You were mind-blowing.

You’re welcome, Mister Roarke. You were pretty mind-blowing yourself, sir.

As he walked over to his pretty blonde wife, I shot a brief glance at his ass, and the way his jeans hugged them made me feel all warm and fluttery. He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and I frowned to myself. What the Hell, Aimee? Oh my god! I can’t believe I thought something like that!

Normally a Couture took four weeks to edit, as there were about five hundred photographs to sift through, but I managed to get through all of them in only two weeks! Hooray for me! I devoted all my time on those shots, using any excuse to stare at his face. He was so photogenic, so natural, that I hardly needed to edit them at all. God, I sounded like an obsessed school girl!

Jase would drag me to bed most nights – he loved calling me a workaholic – as I lost track of time, and the next thing I knew it was morning. After I was sure that Tristan’s proofs were as perfect as they come, I left a message on his answering machine. He was impressed with the photographs, as well as how quickly I managed to complete them and ordered about a dozen enlargements. We started talking as I showed him the proofs and it was easy talking to him. He seemed intimidating in his formal attire, but he was the complete opposite. Besides, people don’t intimidate me!

The strangest, and most comforting thing about Tristan was that he seemed to share my views on everything, which was a pretty big deal, because there are few people that I had met in my twenty- seven years of existence that thought the same way as I did. Because I was so open-minded with everything, people tend to think I was either very indifferent, or very injudicious. Tristan didn’t seem to think so and our conversations had substance, meaning, and were intellectually stimulating. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a conversation like that with someone. Actually, I’ve never had that type of conversation with anyone, not even with Jason or Tori, or my mom for that matter. It seemed that we understood one another on a whole different level. It was familiar, and comfortable. To me that was strange, as well as intriguing. He came in more often, to see what I’ve been up to, what new shots I’ve taken. I wondered what his wife thought about his frequent visits to the studio, but she most probably didn’t even know. If she knew, she’d waltz in here with her perfect blonde hair and beat me to a pulp. I wasn’t in the least bit worried, as I had loads of chemicals to my disposal that could easily scar that pretty little face of hers.

Tristan

Allow me to introduce myself; I’m Tristan Matthew Roarke, CEO and top level engineer of ACEG Limited based in central Chicago. I’m thirty eight years of age and married to my pretty and, more often than not, challenging wife, Gwen. She’s an accountant and we have been – mostly - happily married for the last eleven years. We have no children, as our schedules are too demanding. Having children was never a necessity for either of us, and we are quite happy not to have any. We wanted to live our lives first, without worrying about where the kids would fit in. Gwen, being four years younger than I was, was beginning to grow weary of hearing about the risks of pregnancy at her age, so the subject sort of drifted out of general circulation. Gwen was a complete control freak, very aware of health risks and she had a tendency to act like a slight hypochondriac.  She insisted I went for regular checkups for my cholesterol and blood pressure, even though I had an extremely active lifestyle.

Less oil, Tris. You don’t want all that oil clogging your arteries, do you? she would say. I had learned not to argue with her regarding health matters, as she clearly knew better. Who was I to argue with Know-it-all Gwen?

A few months back, Gwen had complained about our outdated family portraits. She was up my backside constantly nagging with me, and frankly, I did not have the time to go photographer shopping. It was only when I was having a drink with my loyal best friend, Derek, and venting about Gwen and her incessant nagging, that he handed me a business card. Dude, here’s the girl’s number who did our wedding photos.

I took it from him and frowned at the white and blue business card.

A wedding photographer?  Like I was going to take that bullet again. I don’t think so.

Trust me, dude. She’s good. Besides, she doesn’t just do weddings. Derek took a large swig of his bourbon and looked at me.

Aimee Crawford, I read the name on the card.

Yeah, she’s hot too, Derek smirked and I frowned at him. Hot girls will always be hot to me, whether I’m married or not.

An amused laugh escaped my mouth and I shook my head at him. Derek has been my best friend from school days, and even though it had been twenty years since those days, Derek Mason was still exactly the same laid-back, fun guy. Sure, he grew up – all of us eventually would – but his appreciation for beautiful women never faded.

Thanks, Rick, I nodded and tucked the card into my wallet.

Of course, Gwen was so happy when I handed her the card, she dashed off to the study and spent about two hours on Aimee’s website, going through each and every photograph that was posted.

I heard lots of oohs and aahs coming from the study, so she had to be impressed. As long a Gwen was off my case, I was happy.

You should go over to her tomorrow and see when she has time for a shoot. Gwen skipped down the hallway with a happy smile.

Why don’t you go? You girls like talking about things like that, I suggested, but the look on her face left me semi-terrified, and I held my hands up and surrendered. I’ll go in the morning.

Thank you. She spun around and headed back to the study.

Her ideas for the shoot were very impressive and the proofs were better than I had ever imagined. Best of all, Gwen was out of her mind happy with them. She was completely in love with Aimee’s work and often hinted to me that I should pop around there and see if she doesn’t have any new work on display. I never complained, because I got to see her. Ever since the shoot, Aimee had constantly been on my mind. The conversations that we had, stuck in my mind the most.

I’ve been reading up about the Civil War, she said out of the blue one day.

Interesting subject.

I know, right? Her smile was breathtaking and she looked like an excited little girl. I read, and this is so incredibly fascinating, a woman called Mary Edwards Walker, was the first woman doctor to get a Medal of Honor for her services during the Civil War.

Alright, and?

And, I happen to be a Walker. Well, I used to be. She looked at me and I could not help but smile at her.

You were Aimee Walker?

Yes.

I did not know that.

Well, now you know, she said with a smile, that smile that I loved on her.

That’s pretty amazing.

Anyway, that’s not all. I actually traced back to our family tree, and it turns out that we are actually related.

I leaned forward and rested my hands on my knees. You don’t say.

Yes, doctor Mary Edwards Walker is the cousin of my great great-grandfather. Aimee nodded and a piece of her fringe fell onto her face.

Wow, that’s truly amazing. I had to admit, that was impressive. Quite appropriate as well.

And it’s kind of ironic, don’t you think?

Oh yes, I do think it’s kind of ironic. Indeed. Seeing as you are the only one of the Walkers that is not a doctor.

That too, also because I married a doctor.

Yes, that as well. Oh yes, The Doctor. I had to change the subject, and quick. Then I remembered the cd that I made for her this morning at the office. I reached for my inside pocket and smiled at her. I brought you something.

As I held out the cd in its plastic sleeve, her face lit up and she held her hands out excitedly, like a little child would with a new toy. She was so different to anyone I have ever met before. When I met Aimee for the first time, I thought she was another rich Daddy’s girl that drove an expensive car, but she was nothing like that. She was brilliant at keeping her guard up towards new people, without seeming cold and distant, I had to give her that. Once I got to know her a little better, I saw her come down from her tower and she revealed the true person that she was. Usually I was a great reader of people, but with her I was dead wrong.

She was far from a Daddy’s girl – never once has she talked about her father without me asking about him – and everything she had, she worked damn hard to get. As soon as she opened her mouth and started to talk, I realized the actual depth of this girl’s soul and the profound things she thought about. She saw the world differently to anyone I had ever met, and it was completely refreshing. She was a broad-minded artist who thrived off art and history, and was besotted with old school rock music. She had a great appreciation for anything out of the ordinary and she was extremely musical, playing guitar, as well as piano. She painted, she drew, but the thing she did the best, was captivate me with her beautiful heart and soul.

I think I might have been born in the wrong time, she told me one time.

Well, you’re an old soul.

Totally, she nodded. I’m not meant for this complicated new-age world.

I can see you in medieval times, running barefoot in a field, I nodded.

With flowers in my hair, she giggled. And you better be there too.

Being the old soul that I am?

That too, she said shyly.

You want me there?

Absolutely.

Then I’ll be there.

One day, I wanted to see her in a field like that, with flowers stuck in her hair, barefoot and carefree.

She leaned forward a bit and whispered, Just don’t bring your wife.

As long as you don’t bring the doctor, I winked at her.

I won't, she chuckled.

It had been so long since anyone had caught my attention in this way, if ever in my lifetime. I had never encountered someone like her. What was this unfamiliar attraction I had for this beautiful, intriguing girl anyway? No-one, had ever made me feel like that before.

Not even Gwen.

Chapter 2

Tristan

Well, today – the second week in June – was yet another interesting day for me, even though that only meant it consisted of work and family responsibilities. I was in and out of meetings the whole day, but fortunately I had a break from the norm where I was able to visit Aimee at the gallery. It was close to my own place of work, so whenever I was sure she was available, I would pop in for a visit.

Over time, and especially after those pleasant visits, I began to analyze emotions and human patterns. It was something that should be very simple and clear.

You met someone.

You fell in love.

You got married and started a life together.

This was the natural progression in life. Was it not? I needed to hear what she thought about this. Aimee, don’t you feel that we’ve been lied to?

By whom?

Our parents, society in general?

I don’t follow, Mister Roarke.

You meet hundreds of people every month, right?

Right.

People that interest you more than your husband?

Sometimes yes, she let out a giggle. Do you meet people that interest you more than your wife?

Absolutely. I’m referring to you, you beautiful intriguing woman! As we’ve been taught from a young age, the concept of meeting another person that interests you more than your spouse, should not feature, or play any role in our lives whatsoever.

So you think that’s what our parents, and society, has been lying to us about all these years?

Exactly.

Are you questioning that your wife is the one for you, Mister Roarke? she raised an eyebrow at me.

Of course. Please don’t make me say it out loud, as I will get too carried away and I might just...

I might just what? Roarke, pull yourself together for god’s sake.

That’s not what I am saying.

Then what are you saying, Mister Roarke.

You are way too formal. Please, call me Tristan.

Answer my question first. She crossed her arms and I could see her breasts pressing together. Whoa.

Focus Roarke.

All I am saying is that you are bound to meet other people, that interest you more that the person you’re married to, and that’s when you start to question and consider the what-if’s, the maybe's, and the how-nice-it-would-bes.

She seemed confused by my response, as if she was not entirely certain what I meant by that. Did she not feel the same way? I left shortly after, to let her chew on our conversation and went back to work, happy – more ecstatic – that I got to see her today.

I was glad when the work day was over and a solid after-work workout with the suggestive banter at the gym with the guys proving most entertaining. The drive home was one of the best parts of my day, because I got to listen to the music I enjoyed. I was driving down the freeway, singing as loud as I could.

Home now, should be happy, right? I frowned to myself when I walked into my home. Why did it feel so unwelcome and cold?

Gwen was in the kitchen, cooking up a storm and I was thankful for getting her a dishwasher when we first moved into the house. The day at the office was grueling and I would not be up for all those dirty dishes.

Hello love! How was your day? she smiled at me, but something was wrong. It was as if I was expecting someone else to smile at me. Maybe more wishing than expecting.

Hello poppet. I walked over to her and gave her a swift kiss on the lips. The usual. Yours?

It was good, she answered and turned back to the stove. How did your appointment go?

Fine, as usual. I am not dying yet, I smirked and thought of Aimee’s comment regarding Gwen’s excessive obsessive compulsions. She thought it was completely ridiculous to send me so often. She believed that whatever was meant to be, will happen when it was meant to.

Well, you can never be too careful these days.

Would you please make me a cup of coffee? I asked and smiled tiredly.

Okay, she nodded. Have you been over to the gallery again?

At the mention of the gallery I froze slightly and looked at her. No. Why?

I wanted to know if she has any new shots on display.

We don’t have any more wall room to hang another frame, I frowned and motioned to the walls of our house, filled with Aimee’s photographs.

I was thinking of redoing-

No, absolutely not. We just managed to get all the dust out from the previous renovations that we did.

Oh come on, Tris. She crossed her arms, but I shook my head again and stood my ground.

The answer is no.

For now, she mumbled and turned to the stove again. You know how much I love her work, and I know you do too.

Gwen- I sighed and pulled off my jacket.

Are you going to deny it? She raised an eyebrow at me and I noticed that she had a metal spatula in her other hand.

Maybe you should lose the spatula, just to be on the safe side.

She chuckled and shook her head. You’re sidetracking me.

You know I love her work. She... I wanted to say so many things about Aimee’s work, but as my mouth opened to expel the words, I realized I was going to sound too excited and my feelings for Aimee might be exposed. Suddenly confusion set in, so I swallowed my words, dropped my tone and shrugged. All I know is that Derek was right. She’s the best at what she does.

It’s nice to know he’s good for something, she shrugged as well and turned away from me.

I breathed a silent sigh of relief and was glad that the conversation had been dismissed. I walked to the bedroom, loosening my tie and felt my body cry out for a hot shower.

As the water flowed over me, I thought about Aimee again and how hard it was for me to hide those feelings from her when we were together. The girl with the most perfect skin, like velvet, the most striking eyes, that would soften the hardest heart, the love she had for the world, seeing the beauty in everything around her.

These things and so many more I could never reveal to anyone, not to Derek. I didn’t think anyone would understand, except Aimee, my Aimee. I could barely deal with these rollercoaster emotions and desires for this girl on my own. Besides, it would be so embarrassing if the feelings were not mutual. It could destroy this perfect something we had. I think.

Being married to Gwen, and I believed being married in general, wasn’t always as easy as we were lead to believe. Sometimes it was good, and sometimes it was very bad, there was no in between either. We fought most about typical life issues and the challenges that accompanied them. Also, our personalities clashed a little bit, a little more than a little bit. She was serious, and organized, and very possessive. She also tended to have a very jealous streak, hence why I didn’t tell her about anything related to female attention, no matter how insignificant the moment was. You should think that after twenty years of being together, she would hold off on the jealousy. Could she not realize that if I wanted another woman, I wouldn’t have stuck around as long as I had? Women were strange specimens that I would never in my life understand. The few brave men that had tried failed miserably.

I also believed that Gwen didn’t need to know everything, she would go completely insane. Women tended to overreact completely about the most trivial things. I don’t freak out when she goes out for drinks with her girlfriends, I actually encouraged her to go, so she could vent to them, instead of me. I may sound like a chauvinist, but I was not. Some things were