Life Is A Foreign Language by Rayne E. Golay Read Free Book Online

very pretty.”
    “Never mind, we’re friends. Go ahead, I’m listening.”
    Nina searched for the right words—where to begin, what to say, how to say it? “It was … I left …” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know where to start.”
    “Doesn’t matter. Just start talking.”
    Nina took a deep breath. “It happened last March, an unseasonably warm day as I remember. I’d given a lecture in Geneva that finished earlier than expected. I was so looking forward to going home and relaxing in a sunny spot on the terrace.
    “When I arrived at home, I was surprised to find André’s car in the garage. It was way too early for him, but I can’t say it worried me.” She kept her voice low. Later she could give in to the anger, the shame and disappointment that were always just below the surface, but not now, or she’d be unable to continue.
    Briefly, Sophie covered Nina’s hand with her own, giving it an affectionate squeeze.
    Her eyes met Sophie’s. “The door to the den was ajar. I pushed it open … all the way. Just stood and stared. There, on the daybed, was my husband humping this woman.”
    Nina took a few thirsty swallows of her Diet Coke. “Maybe the opening of the door caught his attention—I don’t know. Anyway, he turned his head and spotted me. I can still see his face, round like Swiss cheese. His mouth wide open, his eyes blinking as if he couldn’t believe it was me. For an endless moment we glared at each other. I felt a curious fascination that this should be happening in my own house.” She paused to catch her breath. “He’d finally brought it home where I couldn’t ignore it.”
    Nina stood and rotated her shoulders. Again the memory of that day made it difficult to breathe. Using one crutch, she limped the length of the kitchen and opened the fridge. She held up a bottle of water. “May I?”
    “Go right ahead. Here’s ice on the table.”
    After filling her tumbler, she returned the bottle to the fridge. She sat and ruffled her hair with both hands. “You know the cliché, ‘Time stood still?’ Well, it’s true. Time had no meaning. I turned away from the door. My first reaction was to get my passport, but I kept it in the safe and the safe was in the den. The need to seize something that would preserve my identity was irrational, a knee-jerk reaction not to drown in the pain. I grabbed my purse from the hall table, got in the car and drove to Geneva. On the way I called my lawyer to make an appointment for the next day.” She put her elbows on the table, chin on hands. “Gosh, do I wish I had a cigarette right now.”
    Sophie stared at her. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
    “I don’t. Gave it up several years ago, but now and then I want one. Then the craving passes.” She nodded at the box of chocolates. “I’ll have one of those instead.”
    Sophie handed her the box. After a moment’s indecision, Nina chose one that looked as if it might have crème filling and took a bite. She leaned back in the chair, eyes half closed. “The next day, I filed for divorce on grounds of adultery. End of story.”
    Sophie, always perceptive, shook her head. “No, it’s not. There’s more, I can tell,”
    Nina sighed. “You’re right, there is and that’s the really hard part.” Hiding her face in her hands, she sobbed.
    Sophie sat on her haunches next to Nina’s chair and enfolded both arms around her, moving her hand against Nina’s back in a soft, circular motion. “There, Nina, cry. Let it all out.”
    Nina cried hard, with long exhalations and shuddering intakes of breath. An infinite unhappiness and despair made her entire body hurt—even the palms of her hands ached. It was a letting go, a surrender of years of sorrow and disappointment and anger and loneliness.
    The storm subsided, Nina’s breathing calmed. Sophie handed her a wad of tissues from a box on the table.
    Nina used them as a towel to wipe her face. She shook her head, coughing. “Nothing is for