Whether We Knew It Or Not

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Her

I hadn’t quite got used to living alone when I moved in next door to him. Our kitchens separated by a single wall of bricks, our gardens by planks of wood.

I still jumped at the groans a house makes when it’s not quite sure who you are, still turned the lights on when the sun began to set as if there was something to fear in the shadows the door frames created. There wasn’t. But a woman living alone always had something to fear.

I remember the first time we met. It was nothing special. We said “Hi”, “Nice to meet you” and went on with our day.

Looking back, I still think it was too unremarkable to have been the beginning, too mundane to have been the start.

Looking back, there was no way I could’ve known.

Him

She was pretty. I remember thinking that. A friendly smile and warm eyes. She didn’t seem nervous meeting her new neighbour as some might have been. But then again, I’m good at meeting people, she had nothing to fear.

I mentioned meeting her to Sarah, my wife, that she seemed nice and that I thought the two of them would get on. She could do with a friend — both my wife, Sarah and Hayley. Moving to a new town must have been daunting, and Sarah didn’t go out much, always lost in her own head to bother getting close to anyone.

At least the dog seemed to like her. He had gone right up to her and looked up expectantly tail wagging and hitting me in the shins in his excitement. My normally sedate dog was very keen apparently.

I always wondered if he knew something I didn’t. Dogs have that sixth sense, don’t they? He knew it was the start of something even if I didn’t.

Her

We were always laughing. The four of us. It hadn’t taken long of us to become friends, convenience playing a key role in our friendship at the start. My boyfriend came to stay a couple of times a week and fit into our little group quite well. We played games, smoked, drank and generally did what most twenty-somethings did in their spare time. We had fun.

It was easy, never tense.

They were married, I learned, Chris and Sarah. They seemed happy together, a sweet couple, kind-hearted, the kind of couple that didn’t have any troubles. He looked at her like she was the centre of his world. James didn’t look at me that way, never did. I know now that it wasn’t the same as what they had, what he felt for his wife. 

I should’ve known that James wasn’t for me, but I couldn’t see what was coming, didn’t see the signs. I still don’t think I could’ve guessed. Even now.

Her

I could see they were struggling, even when we were all together. They both were. Sarah seemed ill, seemed to be getting smaller and smaller as the weeks went by, a fragility surrounding her, drowning her. She looked like she could shatter with one wrong move. 

So did he. I remember there being no light in Chris’ eyes. He still smiled, but it was the empty kind, the kind where you can’t bring yourself to try and hide your misery. It wasn’t my place to get involved. So, I watched, my heart breaking for him. She wasn’t trying anymore, I could tell. And it was hurting him. I wouldn’t say anything, though. I couldn’t. 

Him

I didn’t see it coming.

After everything we’d gone through together, after what I’d stuck by her through. I didn’t understand. How could she? I had helped her through her illness, helped her through the darkest parts of her mind, for this?

She had sat there and looked at me, tiny among the cushions, eyes filled with a guilty remorse that made me want to comfort her. But I wouldn’t do that anymore. The moment Hayley had walked in on the two of them, limbs entwined on her sofa and their lips hungrily taking advantage of their secret, it had been over. I can’t imagine the sight it must’ve been. I hadn’t spoken to Hayley about it since it happened. She had to tell me, of course; she was just as shocked and heartbroken as I was. 

Looking at her then, I knew she had been hiding this dirty secret for a long time and that maybe I hadn’t been the one to help her after all.

I held my breath, willing the tears not to fall. I was a fool.

All the sleepless nights, she had never said a word, kept her feelings locked up. She had never wanted to share what she was thinking, what she was feeling. She had left me in the dark. About a lot of things. And now she was leaving me again. Not that she really had a choice. It was over.

Her

I watched through my blinds as she struggled with her bags down the path that joined our two houses to the road, watched as his wife put her belongings into the boot of her car and drive away, all while he stood in the doorway. He wasn’t crying. I knew he would though, in private, his clenched hands gave away just how hard he was trying to hold it together. 

I had shed my tears for James already, we had never been in love. I think I even knew it then. Not that it didn’t hurt to be betrayed like that. It did hurt, and on either side of our kitchen walls, I knew we were both in pain. 

Him 

I didn’t think about her for a while, our paths not crossing much for weeks. In the back of my mind, I knew she must have been hurting too, just next door, on the other side of the wall. I was lost in my own pain. Everybody had loved Sarah. Nobody could believe she had done it. I couldn’t. But it was all supposed to happen, I guess. It led me somewhere better. To her.

Her 

“Are you okay?”

 It was the first time I had seen him, really seen him, since it all happened. His dog had run straight over to me as I walked out my door. I remember chatting, him smiling as I tried to urge a little light back into his eyes with my words.

He still looked sad, looked broken but he was talking, he was out in the fresh air, and he was smiling. He would be okay. She had hurt him. But he would be okay. We both would.

Him 

We fell into a steady pattern, talking, cooking, playing games, just spending time in each other’s company. The fence between our gardens came down, letting the dog have free run of the grassy areas behind our houses. We spent a lot of time together, friends despite what happened. She was easy to get along with, easy to love. That’s what it came down to, I guess. We understood each other. I didn’t have to worry with her. She was right next door, and she was always there. 

If I was asked if it was worth it, the pain and the hurt, I would say yes, because it had led me to her, it had led me home.

Her 

When he asked me the question, after a year, I didn’t have to think twice. Pulling the Christmas cracker to find the ring inside had been a surprise, his eyes so full of happiness and hope as he looked at me holding the gold band in my palm. From neighbours to partners, this had always been the plan, whether I knew it or not at the time. He had always been what was coming; he had always been home.

by Chloe Aston

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