The Loving Game

She never really knew when it all started. She had always believed that nothing would come between them and that they accepted each other’s faults and little idiosyncrasies well.
 
When she noticed the difference, it was way too late to do anything.They had always given each other space, for quiet thoughts during the three years relationship that they had.  
 
Living together in a small house, entailed them to be at each other’s face all the time. So at times she would go out for a walk alone in the evening.  Or he would go for a short drive on his own during the weekend. They never questioned each other about where they went. Just that they came back together again in the house and went on as usual.
 
She had always been a stickler for time tables, time to eat, time to bath, and time to sleep…it was always perfectly planned. She believed in her putting her ducks in a row. It was a perfect setting for both of them; a very neat pretty house and a good relationship, always so quietly contented with each other.  
 
Or at least she thought it was perfect until he started to come back from work late. She did not notice it immediately of course,  it took months for her to realise that he has started to  miss their 6 o’clock tea together and he would come home just in time for dinner at 8 o’clock.  
 
He then started to come back only before midnight.  She wanted to understand that he wanted his space and also go out with his friends once in a while.  She loathed confronting him about his gradual change in attitude but she had to ask.
 
She was met with silence, a cold stare and even longer absence from home. She only vaguely hear him come in after midnight and then he would be up and going again in the morning. He also took to sleeping in the spare bedroom.
 
They had always enjoyed a healthy relationship, although she did not know why women shouted about it; the slap and tickle was only that to her. He was the same, he believed in a higher form of love than the physical.
 
But that day everything came into focus for her. She did not know whether to laugh or cry and she did neither. She just quietly packed her bags and put them all into her little Honda. She did not have much as the house belonged to him.  
 
She started her car and looked back at them, standing near the verandah.  The two men stood together holding hands, like Hansel and Gretel, near a clump of flowers.
 
Ends