This is a story about a selfish wife who cheats on her husband. If stories that involve wives being anything other than loving wives is not your thing, then please give this story a miss. So called loving wives cheat for all sorts of reasons, as do loving husbands. As the reader it is up to you to decide whether to accept this or not.
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In retrospect, everything that I am about to relate could have been avoided. Perhaps I was, or am naïve. Some would say stupid, definitely a cuckold. Possibly fair observations, but then everything was so out of keeping with my wife and what had gone before in over twenty years of marriage that I was perhaps blindsided. Anyway, I can't turn back time, only ponder whether I should have been more attentive to my wife. I should definitely have spotted what she was up to, but then hindsight is a wonderful thing.
It started with a partially overheard telephone conversation between my wife Sarah and her best friend Sandra. The snippets I heard went something like this:
"You are joking Sandra, aren't you?"
"You mean you had sex with another man while you were there?"
"Does Ken know?"
"No, Sandra I don't believe you, but I mean, you're forty, it's, I mean..."
At that point I was so intrigued by the conversation that I quietly picked up another handset to listen to what they were saying. I just hoped the ladies wouldn't notice. I was just in time to hear my wife say:
"When is it due?" and Sandra replied;
"Next February I think."
What I heard next was my wife saying "I'm very jealous Sandra, you know I always wanted one more. Perhaps I'll have to do what you did then."
"Ha" replied Sandra, "you always were a copycat Sarah. But you wouldn't dare do what I did."
"Oh really, well you'd better give me the details and I'll prove to you I'm serious."
"Well, if you are sure... yes here we are, his name is Nikos and the taverna is called the Olive tree. Its only 400m form the apartment so you can't miss it."
"Right, I'll let you know what happens then."
At that point I put the phone down and beat a hasty retreat to make sure I wasn't caught listening. After a few minutes Sarah appeared looking slightly flushed and sat down next to me. "You'll never guess what, Sandra is pregnant."
"What" I gasped in genuine shock. "Pregnant, but I mean she's the same age as you." That was obviously the wrong thing to say however as it prompted an angry response.
"So what are you saying Peter, that I'm too old to be a mother at forty two?"
"Well, no, that is yes, I mean, women don't normally get pregnant at that age, do they?"
"No, they don't" replied Sarah, "but these things do happen. Some women get wistful about being pregnant and want to prove that they can still have a baby. Don't forget a lot of women put off having a baby until later anyway, so it's not that unusual anymore."
As I thought about what she said I realised that she was correct. I often read about women having babies in their late thirties and early forties, so it really wasn't that big a deal. As I mused about this, Sarah said:
"Oh, and by the way, I have booked us a week in Greece in two weeks' time."
"What, why, that's sudden?"
"Well, I thought we could do with some late summer sun and I had a tip off for somewhere nice and quiet."
"I, er alright" was all I could think of to say in reply. Although I didn't know what was going on, I suspected it was related to Sandra and given the history of competition between her and my wife, I felt a slight unease and trepidation about this suddenly booked holiday. I know in retrospect I was a bit dim and could have, no should have put all the pieces together, but I didn't. perhaps because I knew, or at least thought I knew my wife. She was a bit of a prude and certainly had never given me any cause to doubt her fidelity.
Anyway, fast forward two weeks and we arrived on the island of Crete. It was now late September, but that hadn't done much to dull the heat. Still some good weather is what we both wanted and a week there would do us good. After a shortish trip to the village where we were staying, the taxi dropped outside an apartment block where we were met by a charming Greek owner and his wife. We exchanged pleasantries and finally made it into our first-floor apartment.
"Well, this seems very nice" said Sarah, "you can see the sea from our balcony."
She was right. The apartment was great and the views superb. Having unpacked we went in search of a taverna to eat. Fortunately, we found one close to the apartment and we spent an enjoyable evening unwinding after our flight. As we sat talking after the meal Sarah mentioned that she had heard of a good taverna nearby. When I asked her how she knew, she said that her friend Sandra had told her all about it. I suggested that we could go there the next night if she wanted and Sarah seemed delighted by that idea.
The next day we spent lazing on the beach and when we got back to the apartment, I noticed that Sarah was excited as she got ready for our evening out.
"I presume we're still going to this taverna tonight?" she inquired.
"Yes, fine by me. You know I like to try different places to eat."
And so, an hour later as dusk was falling, we set off to the taverna. "Do you know what the place is called?" I asked.
"I think it's called the Olive Tree."
That's interesting I thought, can't wait to see what the attraction is!
After a 15-minute walk we found ourselves at a secluded taverna on the outskirts of our village. It looked very pretty, and we noticed that there was only one other couple eating when we arrived. As we hovered looking around and deciding where to sit, a man appeared and welcomed us.
"Hello, hello, please have a seat. Sit anywhere you like, we are not busy tonight."
As he spoke, I noticed my wife was looking at him intently. I didn't know why until I looked back at the man and realised that now he had come into the light, he was a really good-looking man. I guessed he was about 50ish and had longish dark hair flecked with grey. He had classic playboy looks. Whilst I was appraising him, he said he'd fetch some menus.
"He seems very nice" said Sarah.
