A Confession Of The Other Woman
The Knife
Katya* closes her eyes, and presses Knife against her chest. This book by Jo Nesbo is one of the latest in the series that she has faithfully followed. The current “King of Nordic Noir” has become one of her few favorites when it comes to crime thrillers in the past ten years. Just like the rest of the series, this book is a murder story with a woman as the victim.
But Katya’s thoughts suddenly drift to the main protagonist, Harry Hole. A man who is so brilliant in his professional career but in his personal life everything is as complicated as the cases he has been solving. Hole is a psychological study of individuals who either sabotaged their human relationships because they are afraid of heartbreak or suffer from a broken heart because of their fear to fight for those commitments.
Brain and beauty
Katya is neither, she believes. She is currently in a relationship which gives her that feeling of being whole again. And she is willing to fight for it. The problem is, the relationship is forbidden and unacceptable. She refuses to stare at it head on for the past two years. With her so busy life – as a single mom and a well-respected doctor – she really hasn’t had the time to reflect on it.
She is approaching forty gracefully inside and out. And could pass for being less than thirty, colleagues would swear . She teases them that, in fact, she is still in her prime. Her two teenage sons – who almost tower over her petite 5’5″ frame – once told her that some of the guys in their school found her hot. It made her feel so good about herself, although she feigned being disrespected . And coming from her two boys she felt a little uncomfortable about it; she had a suspicion that those schoolboys surely had used the code MILF when talking about her. Well, it is still a complement, isn’t it?
The apple of her eyes
Her boys were still in preschool when their father died serving in Iraq just as the war was winding down in 2011. And since then, they have become her main source of courage that made her grieving years more manageable and shorter. Or were they? Well, it was very true in the first few years, she confessed at that time. Juggling her life between being a good single parent and the demands of med school during this period, there was not much time and energy to spare even to notice men or make any effort at getting noticed by them.
How it all started
Until she met a guy seven years into her being a single mom, the one who is in her mind right now as she reads Knife. He came at the exact time where she needed someone like him. It is now late in 2020, and the pandemic lockdowns are still at their peak. People suddenly must find ways to make their isolation productive, if not just to save their sanity. The 450-pager or so hardcover has now come in handy. It is time to take stock of her love life.
Grief, love, guilt
Katya lays down the book on her pillow and rises from her bed. Grief is a lifetime experience; this she has been aware of. It does not actually go away. Rather, it is only measured by the degree of pain, and in the manner of how you manage it. And, of course, the important role of social support. The relationship she is now in, she admits, has greatly made a big difference. It has brought back life’s fun and energy; it has made her mind and body alert and younger again. In fact, more than once, in their intimate moments, she would whisper to him that she credited him for her youthful looks. But questions linger these past couple of months. Why am I still in this relationship? Can I not find a “normal” one? How can I just settle for a very married guy?
The self-examination
Introspection is one silver lining forced on people during this pandemic. Life has been put into a standstill. You either put this lull to good use or be paralyzed by fear of the many unknowns. And this is where she is now. Re-examining a relationship that, honestly, its direction is not yet totally clear to her.
The first romance
She was twenty-five when she married her high school sweetheart in 2005. So many things happened during this period that most of its details are now a blur; the whirlwind honeymoon, the pressure on the final year at med school and two successive pregnancies that slowed it; the patriotic fervor over the war on terror, her husband’s decision to enlist in the military in 2007. Through it all, her parents and in-laws were their strong pillars of support.
When death takes more than just life
And Katya was thirty-one when her husband died; she had just finished her residency program. Thrust into the role of a single parent, she felt her world turning upside down. She was grieving, for sure. But at one stage of her grief there was something she felt was unfairly denied of her. A boyfriend is totally different from a spouse. Although they started their budding romance toward the end of their high school senior year, she realized that she barely had the chance to really know her husband. Two tours in Iraq meant a huge part of their married life was missing.
She thought this was the most painful part of her loss – grieving over someone she knew she loved dearly as a person but also the husband she hardly had the opportunity to get acquainted with. Six years of marriage now actually felt much shorter than its number. They took it for granted thinking they would have all the time in the world ahead of them to grow up and know each other. Wasn’t it supposed to be that way?
Crossing the red line
She first met her mentor, five years her senior, in 2012 at the onset of her medical practice. However, it was not until 2018 when they crossed that red line. For years everything was that of a fidus Achates, confidant turned soulmate. He was a very decent man and a devoted husband and father. But he had one very soft spot. His heart easily melted when confronted with people in tears, be they male or female. This high level of empathy endeared him greatly among his peers, and most especially to his patients. He was, no doubt, a beloved doctor. His family’s bond was rock solid. Of Persian descent, he was so attractive as any hunk in Hollywood.
The high hanging forbidden fruit
He was also a perfect image of a forbidden fruit. In a profession rife in high burnout rates, stories of extra-marital affairs among peers had become a small elephant in the room. And he was greatly mindful of this. Besides, his happy marriage had withstood the test of time. With a beautiful family, he could not ask for more. This keen awareness made him successful in making sure he was not to become a low hanging forbidden fruit. Until one day, when the fruit allowed itself to fall freely to the ground.
The scary thoughts
That event in 2018 occurred during the lowest of her many lows. Until then, the theory of five stages of grief was just that, a theory. But in that moment she was so deep into it; she discovered that there were times it was hard to identify which stage she was in, it was a roller-coaster experience. Now for the first time in her grief, she entertained the thoughts of pinning the blame on her late husband for his decision to fight in a war that turned out to be fairly discredited by more than half of his beloved country. And she wished he didn’t have to commit to another tour of duty. Is the young family not enough argument against putting oneself in harm’s way?
She got scared, the moment these thoughts entered her mind. And so guilty. After all, there was never a decision made without the two of them owning it. And it was scary because she felt that she was about to betray the sacred memories of the only man she had ever loved.
His soft spot and her meltdown
Her good mentor instantly recognized the sign of a breakdown. During her low moments he would always encourage her to let her feelings out and set her buried anger free. These past six years, he was always ready to lend his ears and offer fraternal comfort. But this time was different. She was visibly shaking. He determined they needed more privacy. He ushered her to his inner office, against his own wise judgment. It was at the tail end of their shift. After a couple of hours, she emerged from his office. No longer shaking but looking more highly conscious of the surroundings.
There is no turning back
On her mentor’s part, crossing that red line had led to his own realization that everyone had their own lowest point, after all. That was his Rubicon moment, he tearfully admitted to her. The exact time on that day was the perfect storm, and things would never be the same. It would take six months before that act of intimacy would repeat. And, instead of working together at stopping it, that instance marked the launching of a liaison that just grew stronger with each passing month, peppered with rationalizations and justifications.
Affairs are a sort of addiction
Oh, yes, they both faced together the weight of their carnal indiscretion. Or error in judgment, as they called it in the beginning. They went through the different stages of guilt. After all, they were two very decent human beings. But in the end, it was decided that, while at it, they just had to slow things down. That way the withdrawal would not be painfully sudden to both. However, just like a sort of addiction, proximity and availability made it almost impossible to get out.
Time to revisit it
It is now late October in 2020; from her bedroom window, she can see the bright colors of autumn leaves below. Two years have passed since they started the affair. The Covid19 pandemic has exposed one vulnerability of an affair like this: with whom do you choose to be when riding out this contagion? Or, rather, whom are you expected to be with? She misses him a lot. But it is the hard truth, they do not belong to each other in the eyes of the public. It is not distance or absence that makes her heart grow fonder of him, their proximity to each other during their hours-long shift at the hospital creates a very painful reality. You cannot touch it but it is there in front of you.
For Katya, this is an eye-opener. She paces around in her spacious bedroom, which is getting smaller by the day with all the restrictions going on. Then she smiles and shakes her head. I cannot even call him. And her next shift would not start for another three days; she is not sure how long she can tame her inner restlessness. She picks up her phone and decides to call her very best friend.
Remembering a dear friend
Katya’s friend is the only soul who knows her secrets. They have known each other since grade school. And Katya has become the closest human being her friend could have in life. They always find humor in their predicaments. Both acknowledge they both are in a trap, it’s just a matter of looking at which trap is more comfortable. And both agreed that Katya’s glass is hall full, and the friend’s half-empty. All the same, they both laugh at it, the reality is each glass has been found wanting.
This glass is half-empty
It’s been said that when a relationship is constantly barraged with all sorts of unkind words toward each other, that marriage is sick.
And if it is enveloped in silence it only means two things: deep unity has been reached and no words are necessary, or it is hopelessly dead.
Katya’s best friend has been married to her husband for twenty years, and with a grown-up son now. Their passion for each other had started fading just two years into the marriage. Since then, they have been sleeping separately; their exchanges are now mostly limited to hellos and the hollow how-are-things-going stuff. They are now way past the screaming and cursing stages. A truce had long been settled.
Her friend is just in her mid-thirties. Asked why she remained in that so-unhappy purgatory, the friend answered: Then what? I married at sixteen, and all I know is that men are the same. So hard to imagine myself starting a new serious relationship. It is so draining. At least for now, the big house is very comfortable, more than enough room to avoid any skirmish. At the end of a very exhausting day at work, at least I know when I get home I am not alone. Why not get a dog then? Katya was tempted to tease her friend.
The irony of Faith
But Katya has forgiven her friend for not being totally honest. This friend is highly involved and visible at her Church. And her parents, and all relatives, are devout Catholics. Divorce is totally out of the question. Besides, they can continue to maintain that facade of a happy couple in the eyes of the community. But it is naive to believe that the same people around are blind to Katya’s friend’s occasional dalliances.
The grown-up son has found a way to cope with this; he has long decided to make a lemonade out of this soured atmosphere – he stays neutral throughout his young adult life, and he is assured all his material needs are met by two competing parents. He is now living on his own and focusing on his studies. And he surely knows it is a sort of manipulation. He also obviously sees it as some kind of punishment for both; when he turned 18, he had two separate dinner celebrations, and when asked during each dinner what his wish was, he told them that he just wished they had never deprived him of a simple and happy home.
At first, her friend thought that maybe divorce would be something to consider once their son turned eighteen. For once in her life, maybe she could defy her very old-fashioned parents’ expectations. By the time he did, she no longer saw the need for it. She blamed it on hormones.
This glass is half-full
Katya feels so sorry for her dear friend – living in such a loveless trap of a marriage. She cannot imagine herself being in her friend’s shoes. In front of her full-length mirror now she begins to question her own belief that for the past two years she has been in a far better trap than where her friend is in. Her friend heroically fights to keep the world from knowing that absence of love. Katya looks at herself closely in her reflection and asks, isn’t it that when you are in love you want to shout it to the whole world? She remembers a quotation her same best friend would often tell her:
” For whether it be a strong wire rope or a slender and delicate thread that holds the bird, it matters not, if it really holds fast; for until the cord be broken, the bird cannot fly.”
The phone call
Katya dials her friend and sits down comfortably. She does not expect the call will be the longest that she can remember. Her friend, though, like the rest on the planet nowadays, has all the time in the world to stay on the phone. Katya asks her, for once in their long friendship, to be a brutal devil to her this time. She asks her friend to revisit and revalidate with her all those justifications that have given Katya’s conscience the freedom to enter into an affair which her well-informed mind disliked with some ambivalence but wholly embraced by her lonely heart.
Parental guilt
Let’s start with your relationship with the boys, Katya’s friend begins. How do you think they are going to handle it when this truth ultimately comes out? Katya takes a long pause. Well, she finally says, one thing I am sure of and counting on. I have their unconditional love; they know how much I love them. And it is my hope that they are old enough to give me a pass on this.
For a long while Katya’s two kids have been assuring her that it is okay with them if she finds a serious relationship. Mom, whoever you choose it is fine with us. They always tell her. It is no secret to them that since becoming a widow – nine years (!) -at a very young age she had been on a date just less than ten times, scattered between seven men. And none reached a third time.
Her boys also introduced her to some dating apps. I do not have time for that. That was her common refrain. And I am fine. Do not worry, if it comes you will be the first to know.
The 10th Commandment
I know you are not comfortable with this, says the friend. But it’s good to revisit this. Katya is quick to jump. But I thought we had eliminated this ground already. It only says, “thou shall not covet your neighbor’s wife“, so it does not apply to me here. And they both laugh. Katya then takes a more serious tone. To be honest with you, I still struggle with this. His wife is a very gentle soul and easily a likeable person. And I don’t believe it is because of naivete or a lack of a woman’s intuition that all this time she has failed to notice anything. I believe it is more about trust and decency.
They have been married for twenty-five years; Katya continues as if these details are new to her friend. And she probably thinks her husband has long passed the so-called litmus test in their marriage. Besides, her time and energy are too valuable to waste instead of harnessing them as she continues to climb the ladder of the corporate world. I am fully aware of my betrayal.
It hurts too. I always try to avoid any occasion where the three of us find ourselves in one space and time together. And, believe me, those traditional family celebrations that I cannot avoid are very difficult. But both our families have been able to manage it. Still, the balancing act remains very challenging. I am still learning.
The proper place of the other woman
So, how do you manage this guilt? The friend continues. Katya has a well-rehearsed response: For one, I always know my proper place. I am not taking anything away from her, or the family. And I have accepted the fact that I should be content with the “crumbs” that fall from the table. Mind you, I do not expect any material reward, either. No, never. To be fair, as things stand now it suits me perfectly well. My number one priority is still the well-being of my kids. I do not really need a full-time man in my life. And the least I can give back is to not let this relationship cause him added stress.
Maybe it is destiny?
And do you still believe it was about destiny? Katya does not see it coming. The first time she tried to justify the budding affair, she felt silly herself: “Maybe there is a version of Murphy’s Law that applies to human situations like this. If he is bound to have any extra-marital affair sometime in his life, he would be glad it was with me.” Yes, she emphatically replies. I still believe so. Look, it took us the full six years to finally set our passions free. Six years. Can you imagine that?
What now?
They continue to talk about the topic for another hour. At the end of their phone conversation her friend softly says: Love, you do what you believe is right this time. Whichever road you take next, I am always here. Katya feels her eyes well up. Before you let me go, the friend continues, I have a confession to make. I supported you this whole time because I wanted you to be happy. Never do I look at it through any lens of morality. I wanted to see myself in you. The self I would have wanted. Since I was sixteen, I have been guided by a set of moralities ingrained in me. Look where it has gotten me.
It is time
They say a long goodbye. Katya rises from her chair and notices the book, Knife, lying on her pillow. She smiles again; so funny my thoughts of guilt are being provoked by a crime thriller with a humanly flawed protagonist. She looks down outside the window. It looks like the autmumn leaves are starting to fall, she says quietly. It’s time, she sighs.
