Before We Met: What Happens When You Fall For The Same Man Twice But Don't Even Know It

by Madeleine Cardell

  ‘Risk?’ Mike looked at Tony. ‘The biggest risk of all, son, is doing nothing. And in its own strange way, it may actually result in something just as bad happening.’

  Tony sat in silence at his grandfather’s side. For most of his life, he’d felt confused at what chances to take in life, what avenues to explore. He felt obliged to please others, putting himself second. Yet today, right now, was the first time he’d allowed himself to ponder what he really wanted out of life. And just like that his crippling confusion went away. He felt no fear about the decision he needed to make, and for the first time in his life, he felt confident that he knew exactly what to do.

  CHAPTER 31

  Lying in her bed early in the morning, Vera reminisced on the events of the night before. She hadn’t slept very well, and when, yet again, she’d got to thinking about how much Anthony had disappointed her, she felt rejected and damaged. She really wanted to call him, hear his voice, see him, but couldn’t stop thinking about what felt like a betrayal. When it came to his job, if the worst came to the worst, she thought that she could put up with him being absent for half a year - she might even have joined him on his adventure while he was in Europe and traveled to see him by train. But his terrible confession - that he still loved his ex - was cruel, and that was something she couldn’t accept or forgive. But despite feeling broken, she was determined to get out of bed and carry on as normal. So in an effort to distract herself from thinking about Anthony, she got out the vacuum cleaner and some other cleaning products, and decided that it was time to do some housework.

  After cleaning the apartment until it was spotless, Vera dressed to go grocery shopping. At around 2.00pm, she walked downstairs and saw a ‘Sorry you were out card’ with her name on it. When she flipped it round and read it, she realized that the sender hadn’t paid enough postage. The other bit of information on the card told her that the letter to collect was waiting for her at her local delivery depot. Vera didn’t know where the depot was, or how to get there, but as she left the house and walked onto the street, a black cab drove past. Without thinking, she hailed it, and asked the driver to take her to the address.

  When she arrived at the depot, she stood in the queue, curious about who was writing to her. As she recalled, modern-day technology was all about electronic mail, not actual, penned letters. As she finally approached the counter, the postal worker, a woman in her early forties, greeted her with a smile.

  ‘Hello. My I see your card and ID?’ she asked.

  ‘Would my bank card be okay?’ Vera replied.

  ‘That would be perfect. Thanks.’

  Vera handed her debit card and the delivery note to the woman.

  ‘There’s probably going to be a small fee to pay. The sender obviously attached the wrong stamp.’ She searched in the pile of envelopes behind the counter. ‘Here it is! Yes, I was right, there’s a small fee to pay.’

  After Vera paid the remaining postage, she was handed the letter and she walked away from the counter towards the back of the room. Initially she thought that she would wait until she got home to open it, and go to the supermarket next, but curiosity got the better of her when she held the colorful envelope with an international stamp in her hands. So she ripped open the top of the envelope.

  Seeing she was still in the room, the postal worker asked from behind the counter, ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ Vera answered.

  And after taking the letter out of the envelope, she started reading.

  Dearest Vera,

  How are you? I’m so sorry (again!) for the late response. Believe me, it’s not that easy to find a moment to yourself when you have two small kids. And I only got your letter after Bali, so it seems you were busy too.

  Things are good here …

  Vera sat and carefully read the letter from this person, not recognizing any of the people or situations described in it, but she persevered. Suddenly the sender changed the subject and asked about Vera.

  I was so sorry to hear how upset you still are about Tony. You’re doing the right thing not searching for him on the internet, but I can’t help but wonder if not voicing how you really feel towards him is doing you any good. You know that I’m all for respecting yourself, but maybe you should tell him how you feel and know where you stand and see what he says. It’s not all about pride, Vera. That way you would at least get closure. Or maybe, you and him are back together already? So happy for you if that’s what’s happened.

  I have heard about this book published in the UK called “A Fair Affair” - and that it’s a best seller. You must have heard about it too. Or maybe you’ve already read it? The author’s name is Vera Smith. What a coincidence! It has not been released here, maybe in a future. The lucky woman has made a lot of money. It’s all right for some, I guess.

  I’d better be going now, hun, Luke will be wanting his lunch. He just woke up after his nap and looks adorable – he’s looking at me standing in his cot. I wish you could see him now. Oh, I almost forgot. I’m finally sending you the photo of you and Tony. (The one that you asked for.) I hope you’re all better now and please, write soon. (Or when you can!)

  Love,

  Em

  Vera’s hands were trembling as she folded the letter and placed it on the table next to her. She felt a strange sensation in her stomach; nerves had clearly got the better of her. Whoever this woman was, she clearly knew her well - well enough to know about her life, well enough to know about a guy called ‘Tony’. The second envelope with the pictures inside was still lying on the table. Anxiously, worried for what she may see, Vera picked it up and slowly took them out.

  Almost breathless, she flipped through the holiday pictures of the author of the letter. She saw a slim, blonde woman and her family. And as she was dropping the photos on the table, one by one, she knew that the one she was looking for, the one she almost feared to see, would imminently appear in front of her eyes. Vera tried to take a deep breath. The postal worker, who was watching the whole scene asked her again if she was okay, but Vera barely heard her. Finally she looked at the last photo. Within a split second her face turned to stone, and she broke into a clammy sweat all over her body. She looked up at the woman then, breathing fast, trying to say something. Her ears were ringing and dark spots appeared in her eyes. She felt lightheaded and dizzy, and she managed to say - ‘No, I’m not all right’ – just before she collapsed and slid unconscious to the floor.

  Vera had been lying on the floor for about a minute before she regained consciousness. Her head was spinning, and she felt weak and confused. The only thing she could see clearly was the face of the woman from behind the counter - who was now kneeling above her. She tried to get up, and eventually, with her help, sat down with her back against the wall.

  ‘What just happened?’ she asked touching her head.

  ‘You fainted, love. Are you pregnant?’

  ‘No, I’m not pregnant,’ she said, rubbing her eyes. The dark spots were still there, but were getting smaller. ‘I can’t be pregnant,’ she muttered, ‘I dumped my ex-boyfriend six weeks ago, so no chance. And I better not be, I’m broke.’

  She tried getting up. The woman offered her hand to help her.

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right, love? Maybe I should call an ambulance?’

  ‘No!’ Vera protested. ‘I have a party to go to! I have to go!’ She looked at what she was wearing and tried to remember where she was. The last thing she knew was that she was walking down the street heading for the station.

  ‘A party? This time of the day? You look awfully pale. You should at least sit down here for a few minutes. If you’re not pregnant, then something in that letter has shocked you to the core.’

  The letter! Vera instantly remembered what she’d read just minutes before. She turned around and slowly reached for the messy pile of pictures on the table. She went through them quickly, throwing the pictures of Em and her family to the side. And then she’s saw it ag
ain - the picture of her and Tony! In an instant flash, the last few weeks of her life flooded back to her: the break up; the accident; the hospital; the book deal; seeing Anthony on the train … and finally last night … and what he had said. Her head felt so heavy that she had to hold it in her hands. She could barely take it all in. She went down onto her knees and lay on the concrete floor in fetal position, as she heard the woman say, ‘That’s it, I’m calling an ambulance!’

  ‘Don’t …’ she said faintly, with her face turned towards the floor. But she wasn’t sure the woman had heard. ‘I’m okay. I just want to lie here for a moment. Just for a moment…’

  PART V

  CHAPTER 32

  Once upon a time, just over a year ago, a struggling freelance writer, Vera Smith, interviewed Tony Peters, a passionate designer and a rising star on the London art scene. At the end of that meeting, he asked for her phone number and the two had fallen in love shortly after. But nine months later, their relationship was over. Vera wanted lasting commitment, and Tony, well, he wasn’t sure what he wanted, or he just needed time to figure things out.

  After the split, both of them decided to wait for the other to call, in the meantime trying to cope with their respective heartbreaks by partying with friends or going on holiday. Eventually, though, both had become plagued by guilt. Vera - because she’d pushed Tony away by giving him a silly ultimatum, realizing that she was too impatient and too controlling. And Tony - because his fears had got the better of him and he was too scared to fully embrace life, and because he had not given Vera enough of his time.

  Then Vera had been struck by a car, and her memory, together with all the knowledge of Tony and their relationship, had disappeared. And in the craziest coincidence she could ever imagine, a few weeks later, their love had been resurrected.

  It was a cold morning in early December, and Vera was sitting at her kitchen table, sipping coffee. As she recalled Tony’s, or Anthony’s, erratic behavior over the past few days, she smiled to herself. Because none of that mattered now. Yes, she now knew that he’d lied to her, but only because he loved her, and because he wanted to be with her - and that felt amazing beyond anything she’d ever felt before. She looked around the kitchen. It was hard to believe that this place was now hers. That, and the fact that she no longer had to worry about money, which was, of course, down to the book deal she’d signed.

  Vera had remembered the evening in early September when she’d gone to meet Shane in the City, and how during that evening the idea of a rich banker she later called, Arnaud, and his mistress, Meredith, came to her head. And who would have thought that the man serving them delicious champagne in the bar that night, would turn out to be the one who tamed her non-committal best friend and turned him into a love puppy! She smiled to herself again. She was meeting Shane today. He didn’t know anything about her recovery, and she certainly wanted to surprise him. She finished her coffee and went upstairs to get ready.

  An hour later, Vera left the house looking the epitome of the confidence - a little ragged around the edges in her skinny jeans and high heels, with smudged eyeliner and red lipstick on – but composed. Yet again, even though she was only dressed casually, she realized people were watching her, noticing her presence. She had a slightly austere look today, focused and collected, and she headed to the station in the self-assured manner that came from knowing the area like the palm of her hand - something that she’d lacked for the last few weeks. When she emerged from the train at Liverpool Street, she saw Shane waiting for her. She gave him a big hug. Then they headed for lunch at Corey’s in Old Broad Street – now one of Shane’s favorite places. Shane had the day off, but Milan had to work, so by eating at Corey’s - where his boyfriend still worked - they could at least see each other for a couple of hours.

  When they walked into the lower level brasserie and were shown to their table, Milan winked at them and then approached the table with the menus. After ordering their meals, they sipped on sparkling water, and exchanged funny looks concerning a couple arguing at the table next to them. Shane and Vera were both happy and in good moods - especially Vera. But little did Shane know why, or what was on her mind, and she wasn’t about to give away her big secret just yet. He hadn’t exactly been honest with her in the past few weeks, and she’d decided to make him sweat.

  ‘The airport in Venice got evacuated yesterday. We couldn’t land, and were just hovering in the skies before we touched down. A lot of passengers looked really nervous,’ Shane said, sipping on his water.

  ‘Exactly why I don’t fly!’ Vera replied, still looking at the couple sat at the next table. She wondered if she could somehow make up a story, based on what she was witnessing. She knew that she had to submit a proposal for another book to Suzy and very soon. Since the evening at the bookshop, Ed was on Suzy’s case, and the pressure was filtering down to her.

  ‘Don’t start again, babe. I’ve told you a hundred times that it’s perfectly safe! It’s a shame that your fear of flying wasn’t wiped out of your head after the accident. And stop staring! It’s rude,’ he cautioned her.

  ‘I’m trying to come up with an idea for my next book. This place is lucky for me, don’t you know? My idea for A Fair Affair was pretty much born as I waited for you the night we came here.’

  The moment she said it, she realized she’d given too much away. Immediately Shane looked at her oddly, and after a brief moment of silence said, ‘I thought you didn’t remember how A Fair Affair came about …’ He watched her face carefully.

  Vera twitched slightly, but remained calm.

  ‘Maybe I was lying, or wait …’ She looked him deeply in the eyes. ‘Maybe I wasn’t telling you everything.’

  Shane gulped, feeling guilty. She held his stare for longer that he wanted her too, and as Milan entered the room with their lunch, he tried to change the subject.

  ‘Look at him,’ he said, pointing to his boyfriend. ‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’

  ‘He sure is,’ answered Vera. ‘Do you think you could ever forget dating him?’ she fired, unfolding the napkin and placing it on her knees.

  It seemed like an odd question. On top of that, Shane wasn’t crazy about her tone and manner. He’d known Vera for years, and was just starting to realize that something wasn’t right. But he tried to remain calm; perhaps he was just being paranoid.

  ‘So …’ he said nervously, ignoring her previous question. ‘How is Anthony? Are you going to tell me more about him, or will he just remain an international man of mystery?’ he laughed.

  But Vera didn’t engage; she wasn’t even smiling.

  ‘Some things are apparently best left unsaid,’ she said, and stared at him.

  Shane tried turning his face away to avoid her stare. He wasn’t sure what was happening. But whatever it was, he knew it wasn’t good. He felt that he had to say something, rescue the situation, but she was looking at him with her big, slightly freakish, eyes and he was crumbling.

  ‘So, when will I meet Anthony then? You may not remember it, but you’ve introduced me to all your boyfriends in the past,’ he joked, hoping to diffuse the situation.

  ‘I sure remember,’ said Vera. ‘And I remember all of them …’ she said, slightly louder, and then quite theatrically - ‘I remember all my ex-boyfriends!’

  ‘You … you do remember them?’ he asked, terrified. He knew it could only mean one thing.

  Vera picked up her glass of water. She put it to her mouth and drank from it until the last drop. She then put the empty glass on the table - loudly - loudly enough for the people eating nearby to turn around and look. She fixed Shane with her demented eyes.

  ‘Not as well as I remember Tony Peters though!’

  Instantly, waves of hot flushes went through Shane. His mouth was empty but he felt a choking sensation, and then he broke into a cold sweat, and his heart started beating wildly and irregularly. The expression on his face suggested that he looked like a lost child or someone in severe pain. His hands were
trembling and he seemed out of breath. Vera looked at him the whole time, like an executioner waiting to strike the death-dealing blow.

  ‘And,’ she said. ‘Please don’t tell me you’re lost for words, Shane, ’cause knowing you all these years, that would be a first …’

  ‘Vera…’ he whispered, ‘you’ve remembered everything. When? How?’ He rubbed his face with his hands. ‘I can’t believe it!’ he said, trying to cover up his embarrassment. But he knew she was angry; very angry.

  Vera leaned towards him, and not wanting to make a scene to rival the one at the next table, whispered angrily - ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Tony, Shane?’

  Shane was in turmoil. Noticing his obvious distress, Milan, who was serving at a table nearby, came over and with worry written all over his face asked, ‘Shane, is everything okay?

  To which Vera answered shortly, ‘Everything’s fine, Milan. But I think Shane could do with a glass of wine.’ She did not take her eyes off her best friend.

  ‘Large,’ said Shane, clearing his throat.

  ‘Coming up!’ said Milan, walking away.

  Vera angrily leaned across the table again.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Tony?’ she repeated.

  Shane knew he had to give her an answer. He’d always known that what he’d agreed to with Vera’s parents was wrong, and that she deserved better than being lied to.

  ‘Vera, babe, I know how this seems ...’

  ‘Really?’ she asked him, sneeringly.

  ‘Well, no, of course I don’t. But, Vera, please understand - you were unwell, you were in an accident, you could have died ...’

  ‘But I didn’t die, did I?’ she got up. ‘Last time I checked … I was still here.’