The other woman

I’ve been thinking about her all day.

I wonder if she’s there, what she’s doing, how she’s doing it, how will it make him feel about me and what – if any – affect she’ll have on our expectations of each other.

Angel and saviour, I’m so glad she’s in our lives even though I’ve never met her. She’s considerate and discreet, always throwing away the little notes left, but always leaving things just so, small signs for me that she was here.

We know about each other but we’ll probably never know more than that. I’ve promised not to interfere and she and Oliver agreed that she’d have her freedom. A clean, safe way to fufill a need. A peaceful, separate co-existance.

A modern solution to an age-old problem.

Plenty of people say that it comes with marriage, a duty I’m obligated to fufill, but I’m glad we found a surrogate before saying any vows. If that’s a requirement, then I’ll never be able to do all my wifely duties in full. But just because the women before me grinned and bore it doesn’t mean I have to.

Oliver already has a little extra spring in his step. It was the right decision, one woman just cannot juggle so much these days and I can’t be expecting him to do it solo. How lonely and selfish.

The money doesn’t even matter, he leaves it on the night stand. It’s gone when I get home from work after 7:30 and then I know we’re good for a few days. I can have my peace and concentrate on other things. In the long run it’ll be better for our relationship, of that I’m sure.

Things are good in Munich, we’ve found a Putzfrau*.

*cleaning lady


2 responses to “The other woman

  1. In some ways it must be hard for you. Wondering if he might leave you for her. I have always thought that myself. Is she better than me. How can I impove myself. What can we do to have a happy family once again. Etc..

  2. sounds like good, clean fun