Pooja had long since accepted that all the passion between her and Adam had gone, which, she figured, was pretty typical after eighteen years of marriage. And now that she was on the wrong side of forty, and with her boobs and bum rapidly going south, she figured that if she occasionally caught him looking at a younger, more beautiful woman from time to time, she shouldn’t be too upset.
As long as looking was all he did.
Until recently, she had never had cause to suspect Adam of playing away. Although their sex life had been in a rut for years, Pooja dutifully spread her legs whenever Adam was in the mood. Of course, she no longer indulged his revolting and painful BDSM fetish, but she did enough to ensure Adam didn’t need to go elsewhere for a quick and easy release. Sporadic bouts of vanilla lovemaking seemed enough to keep him happy, and Pooja had little appetite for much else.
But recently, Adam had started behaving oddly. Whether it was a mid-life crisis or something more worrying, Pooja couldn’t be sure. Taking out a gym membership and buying sharp new suits was one thing, Pooja thought, but she became seriously suspicious when he began applying moisturiser and dyeing his beard. It all seemed wildly out of character and planted unsettling thoughts in her mind.
She told herself the signs would be obvious if Adam were having an affair, but so far, they were absent. For example, he had never phoned to say he was working late or going for an impromptu drink with colleagues after work. On the contrary, he came home directly each evening, and she always knew exactly where he was, day or night.
Nevertheless, Pooja raised her concerns with her friend, Nisha, who suggested Adam might suffer from what she called ‘Peacock Syndrome’.
“At the moment, I’m sure it’s nothing,” she told a concerned Pooja over coffee one morning. “He’s only seeking attention like most guys do as they reach that age. But you do have to worry about the kind of attention he gets. All it takes is one slapper to turn his head and suddenly his problem becomes your problem. After all, he’s a good-looking man, your Adam.”
Unsurprisingly, this didn’t allay Pooja’s fears. Of course, Nisha could be making a mountain out of a molehill, but there was truth in what she said, and Pooja decided to do something about it. With Valentine’s Day approaching, she decided to give Adam the attention he craved by planning a surprise romantic weekend.
Unfortunately, Valentine’s Day fell midweek, so Pooja decided to book a hotel in central London for the weekend after. But despite buying new lingerie for the occasion and reserving a table at an expensive restaurant, the nagging thought that Adam had already lost interest wouldn’t go away.
“All it takes is one slapper to turn his head.”
Pooja replayed Nisha’s words over in her head. Was there a new team member in the office, perhaps? A young, lithe beauty who Adam had responsibility for mentoring? Or a close colleague unhappy in her marriage and seeking affection elsewhere? Although the evidence suggested that Adam hadn’t yet started an affair, his new-found care over his appearance indicated that he might be receptive to embarking on one should the opportunity arise. Pooja needed to know if her husband could still be trusted.
While driving one afternoon, an old song came on the radio about a woman testing her husband with romantic letters written under a pseudonym. Pooja wondered what would happen if she sent Adam a Valentine’s card, apparently from someone else. Would he tell her about it, then laugh and throw it in the bin, as she would hope? Or would he keep it secret and try to identify the sender? Either way, his response would give her a good indication of Adam’s ongoing loyalty.
Pooja considered what the repercussions might be if she sent such a card. What if he did keep it secret, as she feared? Of course, she would have to confront him. But he might say he had never received it or was too embarrassed to mention it to her; if so, it wouldn’t be solid evidence of any wrongdoing. No; unless he proactively replied to his imaginary admirer’s advances, Pooja couldn’t pin any blame on him.
But Adam couldn’t respond to the card unless Pooja added an address or number. He would immediately recognise her details if she used those, so a burner phone was the best option. She figured he would likely text if he replied, so recognising her voice wouldn’t be a problem. And if Adam called instead, she needn’t even pick up the phone. The fact that he had phoned would be damning in itself.
Pooja figured she had nothing to lose. Of course, in the worst-case scenario, he would own up to looking elsewhere, an argument would follow, and there would be a few days of frostiness between them. But that was preferable to having a lying, cheating husband sharing her bed. She had to nip any adulterous thoughts in the bud.
The card and phone were bought well in advance to avoid last-minute difficulties. The phone was easy to set up and only cost her fifteen pounds. Pooja decided to use it to call a client to check it worked, then, satisfied that it did, she switched it to silent and hid it in her underwear drawer.
The card was typically vulgar, with roses and hearts on the front, all in a shocking shade of pink. Still, Pooja imagined that Adam would be less concerned with the card and more interested in the sender. So she kept the message brief and to the point.
“I long for you, Adam, and I know you yearn for me too.
Be Mine.
A Friend.
-X-
07569432500”
Pooja addressed the card using her left hand, then hid it next to the phone.
The following week passed painfully slowly as Pooja waited to enact her plan. She decided to post the card near her work in London; that way, the postmark wouldn’t be local to their home. In the meantime, she took the opportunity to occasionally rifle through Adam’s pockets and briefcase when he wasn’t looking in case he had hidden a card or gift intended for someone else.
Pooja found nothing to incriminate Adam, but she noticed his mood darken in the days leading up to Valentine’s Day. He was often abrupt when speaking to her and spent long periods sitting in his chair saying nothing. Pooja guessed he was stressed at work, but she hoped their romantic weekend in London would help put that right.
When Valentine’s Day arrived, Pooja was beside herself with anticipation. Adam always left for work before she rose each morning, so they usually exchanged cards and gifts in the evening on special days. Pooja figured that would be his opportunity to come clean about the card. So she decided to work late so Adam would be first home and pick up the mail. That way, she could be sure he would have opened the card by the time she got home.
Pooja didn’t know what to expect as she rode the tube back from work. Would she find the card shredded in the bin and enjoy a romantic dinner and sex with her husband, or would he have hidden it, leading to an argument and several days of antagonism? She prepared herself for both eventualities.
Unfortunately, neither scenario was awaiting Pooja on her return.
