What Did She Say

© Andyhm. 2022

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.

I have no clue where the idea for this story came from, but it only took me 20 minutes to rough out. That's when I realised it could potentially fit it into the 750-word concept. I failed as the final word count for the story excluding the authors notesis 768 words. I chose the LW category, but it could just as well gone into non-erotic or romance.

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I'd spotted an old friend and he had invited me to sit and have an after lunch drink with him. So I sat at his table on the golf club terrace. I was about to ask my friend a question when from behind me, a hesitant female voice spoke my name. Glancing over, I saw an attractive middle-aged woman sitting at a nearby table.

The woman called my name again, and I walked over to her. She looked familiar.

"Hi," she said. "I don't know if you remember me; I'm Lucy Thijs. We met a couple of years ago at your ex-wife's gallery, at that exhibition of Carlo Ribeiro's paintings."

Funnily enough, I did recall her. I'd spent an enjoyable couple of hours talking to her and her husband while Sara had been busy dealing with the artist.

Carlo Ribeiro had been everything I'd disliked about a person; arrogant, Spanish, believing the world worshipped at his feet. In his early days, he'd been an incredibly gifted artist, but he'd gotten sloppy in recent years. His only redeeming feature was that he was dead. Sara was his British agent, and he, her best client, had to spend a lot of time dealing with his ego. She'd quickly learned that it was best not to discuss anything about the man or his paintings in my presence.

He'd died in a private plane crash a few weeks ago. Not a significant loss to the art world, in my humble opinion, but Sara had been upset.

"How is she holding up?" Lucy asked. "His untimely death must have been such a shock for her."

I heard her words and started to say yes, but something she'd said earlier finally registered with me. She'd called Sara my ex-wife, yet Sara hadn't mentioned anything about divorce at breakfast this morning.

I was about to correct Lucy when she added. "They seemed such a loving couple when I last saw them."

"And when was that?" I asked, more than a little confused by the turn in the conversation and concerned by the implications.

She paused to think, "Oh, it must have been a couple of months ago. James and I stayed at the Baumgartens, and they were as well."

"Who, Sara and Carlo?"

She gave me a puzzled look, "Yes, of course. Who else?"

The only time Sara had been away recently was a short trip to Malta with her sister. She'd gone to negotiate with a promising artist she'd heard about to host an exhibition of her work later this year. Afterwards, I got the impression from Sara that Tina had been a bit of a handful, and she regretted inviting her.

"Where was this?" I'd never heard of the Baumgartens, nor where they lived.

"We were spending the summer at our place in Italy, but they invited us to spend a few days with them in Malta. They were holding a big party for their thirtieth wedding anniversary, and as we were old friends of theirs, they put us up."

I struggled to understand the convoluted conversation, but I couldn't ignore the point the party had been in Malta and she was convinced that Sara and I were divorced.

"Why do you think that Sara and I are divorced?" I asked.

"Well, you are, aren't you? Carlo told me that they have been together for a few years."

My mouth was dry; there was a jug of water on the table, and I poured myself a glass and drank half. I racked my brains, trying to recall any indication that Sara had been unfaithful, but none came.

"You don't look well; sit down before you collapse." She pulled a chair out, and I sat down, trying to make sense of everything.

"I'm sorry if bringing up your divorce has upset you." Although she didn't sound that upset.

"It's finding out that I'm divorced. Only this morning, I was under the impression I was happily married."

"You mean she's not divorced but been having an affair?"

"Sounds like it," I replied bitterly.

"Well, I saw Sara earlier. I'm going to give her a piece of my mind."

She stood up and walked swiftly around the corner of the terrace before I could stop her. I followed; this wasn't something I wanted to be aired in public. I heard the raised voices before I saw them. Lucy was shouting at a very familiar person who looked shocked. I hurried over, and Lucy wasn't the one who wanted an explanation.

"So, Tina, just what the fuck have you been up to?"

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