The Other Man's Child

ond I couldn't breathe. Tom stood up abruptly, pushing her gently aside. My voice quivered. "What's the meaning of this, Tom?" Tom's brows quivered; he pointed a finger in my direction. "You, wh

e to talk about this. We would meet at home." He walked past me and opened the door. "Go and freshen up, Selene." I stood, gazing at him. This wasn't the Tom I had married on the pulpit that day. I steadied myself and walked into the car. He shut the door and waited. Till I drove out of the premises. I never looked back. I knew there was trouble when I overheard his sister's excited voice when she spoke to Marilyn, Tom's mother, about Lisa coming back a few weeks back. "I am so excited, Mother. Aren't you Tom?" She nudged Tom at the dinner table. Tom had pretended not to care, but I caught the curve of his lips before he rolled the pasta into his mouth. She had left without a trace after Tom had an accident a few years ago. The diagnosis was that he wouldn't walk again. But he did. Tom was heartbroken; he claimed he would never love again. A rumour sufficed that he wasn't interested in women. That wasn't a good reputation for his father's company. Our marriage was a form of damage control. I wailed. Tears blurred my vision as I drove. All my years of dedication thrown down the drain. I couldn't go home. I couldn't let Amira see me this way. I drove to Sophie's house. My best friend for the longest time. As I stepped down from the car, she opened the door and walked out. "Sophie," I called out in between sobs, unable to stand without wobbling. She ran to me, pulling me into a hug. "What's wrong, Selene?" I tried to speak, but the tears wouldn't let me. "Let's go inside," Sophie said. She guided me in carefully. We sat on the sofa while she stroked my hair. I buried my face in her shoulder, taking in