Love and politics

Standing under the shower, enjoying the heat of the water that slowly rinsed away the traces of their lovemaking, Carol thought of Therese. Never before had being with another woman given her so much pleasure, such fulfilment. Their bodies had matched perfectly and the instant trust between them had made it natural for Carol to signal her needs and to show her vulnerability, something she had always avoided in the fleeting affairs that constituted her love life since her marriage to Harge. Therese had eagerly answered to those needs, in return giving herself without restraint.

It had almost been noon when they finally had been able to leave each other’s arms. Standing next to the bed that during the night they had turned into a mess of rumpled sheets and scattered pillows, they both laughed.

“My God, we’ve been … enthusiastic…”

Carol’s voice betrayed the many emotions their night together had woken in her. Therese smiled, wrapping her arms around her tall lover, pressing her slender body against her once again.

“I liked it…”

Carol raised her eyebrows.

“Liked it? Is that all you can say?”

She started to tickle Therese, who tried to wriggle herself out of her grip.

“Okay, okay! I loved it!”

Therese took Carol’s face in her hands, kissing her firmly until she stopped teasing her and gave in to her embrace.

Carol turned off the tap and stepping out of the shower wrapped herself in her checked robe. She had left Therese soon after they had been able to detach themselves from the bedroom. She needed to prepare herself for lunch with Harge. He had texted her earlier that morning, asking her to join him at a quiet restaurant outside the city. She had accepted his invitation, knowing they would have to talk about the changes that were taking place in their lives at such breathtaking speed.

She felt more alive than she had in ages. Her body was still on fire from the lovemaking with Therese. But it was more than that. It was as if her mind was liberated. Free from the expectations and conventions that had dominated her life for so long now. She had become aware of new, unexpected possibilities. And, and here Carol smiled, Therese made her laugh, making her rediscover her playful side that had been hidden for a long time.

Standing in front of her wardrobe to select a dress suitable for what no doubt would be one of the hardest conversations of her life, Carol sighed. She did not want to hurt Harge or bring their life with Rindy in jeopardy. But she realised she had already taken the first steps to a future that did not include them in the way they were accustomed to. There was, she knew, no turning back.
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Harge Aird could hardly hide his anxiety while he waited for his wife. He had arrived early at the small restaurant, one of Carol’s favourite places. It would have to do as the décor of the conversation he already dreaded when they were driven home the night before.

That morning, although he knew he would not find her there, he had gone to Carol’s bedroom. After his knock there indeed had been no answer, but he had opened the door anyway. Entering, he felt like an intruder. He looked around the subtly decorated room, noticing the neatly folded quilt on the bed that clearly had not been slept in. Slung over the chair of her dressing table was the beautiful dress she had worn at the Governor’s gala. She had changed before she went over to the guesthouse, he concluded.

Softly he sat down on the bed, his hand caressing the softness of the satin sheets. He had never spent the night in this room. But he could still remember the times, now more than ten years ago, that he had been with Carol in this bed to perform the act that would hopefully make them parents. It had been awkward at times, but they had been able to laugh about it too, helped no doubt by the drinks they both needed before they had been able to get to the point. He would never regret those bewildering but also tender encounters. They had given them Rindy, after all.

“Mr. Aird …?”

Harge felt a hand on his shoulder, arousing him from his thoughts about his clandestine visit to Carol’s bedroom. The maitre d’h coughed discreetly.

“Your wife has arrived.”

Harge rose from his chair to see his wife graciously make her way through the restaurant, making several heads turn, both male and female. Noticing him, she smiled nervously. He waited until she arrived at the table and the maitre d’h pulled her chair out for her. Only after she was seated, did Harge sit down again.

“Always the true gentleman.”

Carol touched his sleeve to thank him for his courtesy. He looked at her hand: he had always admired its light skin, the long, elegant fingers with their carefully clipped nails. Her hands were like her personality: strong, full of willpower, but sometimes also showing anxiety, a slight tremor even when her emotions took over. Through his sleeve he could now feel her nervous grip. He put his hand on hers.

“Thank you for coming.”

They exchanged some pleasantries while they ordered and waited for the maitre d’h to pour their wine. It had a soothing effect on both of them, and also made it easier for Harge to open with the confession that he had visited her bedroom earlier that day.

“I went to your room this morning, but you were not there.”

He saw how a blush coloured her cheeks.

“No, I…” She hesitated, then decided to be honest with him. “I was with Therese.”

Her eyes, shy and defiant at the same time, sought his. He blinked, then lowered his gaze to the glass in his hand.

“What can I say.”

He took a sip of his wine, then returned his gaze to Carol, who was still looking at him.

“Are you in love with her?”

This time she did not hesitate.

“Yes, yes I am.”

He had prepared himself for this answer, but he was still overwhelmed by its significance. In all their honesty and simplicity Carol’s words meant that he could no longer take his carefully built career as an ambitious, promising politician and most of all his harmonious life with Carol and Rindy for granted. He remembered how during her speech at the Governor’s gala Carol had made it clear that they could not go on like this. Wincing, he searched for words, trying to give expression to the great uncertainty that was triggered by Carol’s confession.

Aware of the pain her words caused, Carol felt her heart go out to the man who had been her companion for so many years. She grabbed his hand.

“Harge…”

“Please… don’t!”

He freed his hand from her grip, bringing it to his forehead, trying to hide the tears that were blinding his eyes. Just then the waiter brought their plates, unaware of the exchange that had made the air between them heavy with emotions. Carol waited until the man, after he had refilled their glasses and wished them a good meal, retreated.

“Harge, I want you to know that I did not seek this. But what happens with Therese, it’s… it’s what I want. I don’t know where it will lead me, but I do know that I cannot go on with my life as it is now.”

Until then Harge had most of all been bewildered by Carol’s words, but now he felt a growing anger mingle with his initial grief. He clenched his fists.

“You cannot decide that on your own, Carol. What about me, what about Rindy, our careers, the election? And all because of this … thing, this fling with a young girl you hardly know. Forget her! She’ll be gone tomorrow, anyway.”

He pushed away his plate and signalled the waiter to refill his glass. Carol put down her knife and fork, trying to remain calm.

“Listen to me Harge. You know me well enough to realize that I’m not acting on a whim. And I am well aware of the arrangement that exists between us. You must believe me when I say that I will do everything in my power not to hurt you and Rindy. But things must change …”

Once again she grabbed his hand, forcing him to look at her.

“And I need your help in achieving that.”

His eyes shot fire.

“Well, that’s bold, Carol...”, he sneered.

“You just want me to destroy everything that I care for …”

Nodding, Carol did not flinch.

“Yes Harge, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”