The Affair

Chapter 12

I haven't spoken to Theodora since before my fathers' death. She's sent me messages and attempted to call numerous times, but I just can't respond to her. And she only knows because it's been in every tabloid and all over the internet. A famous authors father dying doesn't seem like it should be news. It's also brought Anya out of the woodwork, who sent me her condolences, and said she's in London if I want to get together. If I weren't involved with Theodora I surely would have answered her and asked her to meet me at my flat so I could fuck her. No talking, no conversation, no feelings. Just fucking.

The jealous part of me thinks of doing it anyway. Then maybe Theodora would understand how I feel about her Chanel ad that I recently saw. Maybe she'd understand why I'm jealous. Seeing her pressed up against another man who's kissing her neck, while she looks so provocative, lit a fire in me. It was obvious neither of them were dressed from the waist up and oozed sexuality.

Right now, I'm standing at the doors of the church. People are slowly trailing in, saying hello to my siblings and I, giving their condolences, and sitting in the pews. I have vague memories of coming to this church as a young boy and as a teenager. Every Sunday, without fail. The priest residing over the funeral remembered us and gave us his dearest apologies.

We move inside and I watch as both Sebastian and his wife do the sign of the cross before they come in. Neither Sophie, Leo, or his boyfriend do it, just as I don't. We stand in front of the pews and continue to be greeted and given condolences. It's exhausting. I haven't cried, just as I'm sure I won't, but Sophie has cried enough for the four of us. As bad as I am with emotions, I've held her plenty of times, and consoled her to the best of my ability.

I suddenly have to do a double take. Theodora is walking in with Hugh. He has his arm around her and she looks breathtaking in her black dress. I can't even feel jealousy. I'm too stunned that she's here. Emotion swells in my chest, in my stomach, and threatens to overwhelm me. They stop when they reach me.

"We saw where your father had passed," Hugh says quietly. "We thought we'd come, show you some support. I'm very sorry for your loss, Maddox."

I look from him to her, then back to him. That's very kind of him. It makes me feel for a moment that he's a good friend to me, even if he isn't. I wonder if he thinks of himself that way. He surely wouldn't if he knew I've been fucking his wife.

"That was very kind of you, Hugh. Thank you. And thank you, Theo."

I give him a half hug, then do the same to her. It's difficult not to embrace her, hug her tightly, hold her close. I can smell her perfume. It's subtle and so nice, a scent I adore, one that lingers on my clothes for hours after she's gone. In this moment I wish I would've called her or texted her back. What was I thinking? How could I be so ignorant?

I notice Sophie watching us closely as we part. I wonder when she'll bring up the fact that Theodora is obviously married, because I know she will. It isn't a conversation I'll have with her, no matter how angry she is with me.

I glance across the vast church at the confessionals as they sit on a pew. Could I go in there and confess my sins? Coveting my friends' wife and fucking her is surely my sin and I could confess, but what would I be confessing to? A god I no longer believe in? My dead parents? My sister? Who?

My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against You whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with Your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Amen...

I recite that prayer in my mind from memory. If I did confess, then what? Say ten Hail Mary's and then fuck her again? What a crock of shit.

My thoughts come to a halt and my entire body tenses up at the sight of her now.