Refuge in her kitchen, where she was supposed to retrieve the vegetable appetizers to serve her guests, she looked anxiously at her phone in her hands. Her fingers trembled, her vision blurred from the steam on her glasses. The screen of her smartphone became damp from the tears spilling over her delicate frames.

She removed them to wipe her eyes, knowing she couldn’t appear teary-eyed before her guests and her son, Tony, who were seated in the luxurious dining room next door. It was time to rejoin them, after all. All the dishes were ready and perfectly aligned on the massive marble countertop. Her absence was beginning to be felt on the other side of the heavy double doors.

The tissues weren’t enough to stem the silent tears running down her cheeks, nor could she stop her arms from trembling. Suddenly, a sharp pain gripped her from within, and she let out a barely audible cry before collapsing to her knees.

— Sandy? Sonia called. As she entered the kitchen, she saw Sandrine on the floor. She rushed to her and helped her up, sitting her down on one of the chairs and handing her a cloth handkerchief.

— What’s going on, my friend?

— It hurts. It hurts…! I’m struggling to breathe. Sonia poured her a glass of water and directed her portable mini-fan towards her face.

— Feeling better, Sandy?

— Yes, thank you. I don’t feel the pain anymore.

— But what happened?

— I’m fine! It was just a faint spell.

— It’s Mikhail, isn’t it? Did you finally reach him? What excuse did he come up with this time for being late?

— No, I didn’t get him on the phone. I called him five times without success. But he did send me a message and… She hesitated, then decided to keep silent. Approaching the sink, she rinsed her face. Her makeup, though subtle, had been completely ruined by her tears.

— Either way, I always preferred you natural, said Sonia. You’re so cute with those lovely freckles. You don’t even need that whole new makeup collection of yours… huh? I mean, I do. And I’d make good use of it! So, when are you giving it to me? Sandrine instinctively giggled, which reassured her friend.

— Thank you again, Sonia.

— Don’t give me another scare like that, girlfriend! Sonia discreetly opened the kitchen door to peek at the guests, ensuring none of them had heard what had just happened.

— They’re all comfortably seated in the lounge. Nothing to report.

— Good. It’s a pity Marco couldn’t be here. Are you sure he won’t join us?

— Positive! You know my husband; he’s such a homebody. He claimed he had to stay with the kids tonight to take them early to their school sports tomorrow morning. For Marco, Friday night is either church or home. Nothing else.

— At least he takes time for his wife and kids. He’s a real blessing to you.

— Yes, that’s true, I’m lucky to have him, she muttered. But sometimes, I wish for a bit more adventure in our relationship. More surprises! I hate monotony. And I could use more cash, too. On that front, with Mikhail, you hit the jackpot.

— You know, money isn’t everything.

— But it sure helps a lot!

— Right, she sighed. Tell me, what good is it to have a king-sized bed with silk sheets if you end up alone in it, unable to sleep?

— I’d say it’s still better than two people cramped in a supposedly double bed with cheap polyester sheets that make you itch all night. They burst into laughter.

— Be grateful for your home, Sonia, and be content.

— Says the woman living in a 200-square-meter Haussmannian duplex with a pool, right in the heart of Paris’s 8th arrondissement.

— Enough, Sonia. Stop being sarcastic; it makes me uncomfortable.

— Alright, I’ll stop. And I admit, you’re right, my sister. I’ll be satisfied with my harmonious yet dull home, in my tiny three-room apartment in the suburbs. “So be it!”

— “So be it!”

— Besides, your choice of surprise guest this year has me stunned. I must say, you didn’t hold back, dear. We had an interesting chat on the rooftop earlier. I hope your husband’s reaction will be less intense than last year’s with Pastor Christophe.

— I’ll admit, even after thinking it over for a long time, I’m still not sure I made the right decision.

— Anyway, there’s no turning back; he’s already settled in your living room. Sooner or later, the truth must come out. I admire your courage in this. Besides, if it reassures you, I’ve been closely observing the atmosphere since the beginning of the evening, and I can assure you he’s getting along well with your parents.

— Come on! That’s hardly exceptional! Who wouldn’t get along with mom and dad? Mr. and Mrs. Carteron are sweethearts. They’d even get along with the devil himself.

— He’s also getting on well with Tony.

— Really? That’s a strong sign that everything’s going well. You know Tony; he doesn’t pretend with people. It either works, or it doesn’t. In that regard, he’s just like his father.

— Anyway, we’ll find out how your husband reacts when he finally decides to show up. But let’s not wait for him any longer. Follow me. Let’s finally bring these plates to your guests. They’re starving. And so am I. We’ve been here since 9:00 p.m. It’s been an hour and a half of forced fasting.

— You’re right. Besides, I doubt Mikhail will be arriving anytime soon.

— Why do you say that?

— I told you earlier he sent me a message… she replied, handing her phone to her. Sonia read Mikhail’s message: “Can’t wait to see you too, babe, my Caribbean beauty. I’m on my way! But I won’t be able to stay long.”

— You’ll agree it’s impossible this message was meant for me, Sandrine continued. Or have you ever seen a Caribbean redhead? Sonia restrained herself from smashing the phone to the floor…

This text is an excerpt from the book THEY ARE LEFT written by Teddy NGBANDA.

We invite you to read the following article “A Marriage in Peril“.

The silent ordeal of Sandrine. The silent ordeal of Sandrine. The silent ordeal of Sandrine. The silent ordeal of Sandrine.