Eva Mazza - Sex, Lies & Stellenbosch

Before Lee had proposed to her, he had admitted that her past was an issue, especially with his parents. He was a sought-after bachelor and could have taken his pick. And though he loved her, he had told her that he wasn’t sure she could be a loyal and steadfast wife and mother.

“You’re not royalty for fuck’s sake!” she had joked.

“Not true, darling,” he had smiled back. “We are as close to royalty as you can get in Stellenbosch. We’re known as blue blood.” She laughed. “It’s true. You’ve got to know that I’ve gone against what I’ve been raised to think and do, by marrying you. You can’t fuck it up for me. Tell me you won’t fuck it up.”

Frankie had wanted him, and she had never hidden the fact that she desired everything he had stood for: status, wealth and a lifestyle she had only dreamed of. She knew what a catch he was, and she had to admit that she had been shocked he would even consider her for his wife. Girls like her very seldom married a man of Lee’s standing. They shagged them, yes, but it seldom ended with a ring on their finger.

“That French diplomat you met in London◦– I see you’ve ended that relationship.”

Frankie did not respond. She knew he knew about the diplomat because John had told her. But this was the first time he had ever spoken to her about him.

“Is the affair over?”

Forgetting to breathe, she gasped for air.

“Well? Has it or has it not ended?” he shouted.

“Yes, it has. But look, Lee, you haven’t exactly been meeting my needs.”

Lee shook his head in disbelief. Frankie cringed at how pathetic she sounded.

“Are you really that cold hearted? I was diagnosed with diabetes. Give me a break. The medication suppressed my libido. I told you it wouldn’t be a permanent thing. How disappointing to find that my wife loves me only in health. How’s that for a rude awakening? What’s worse is that while I’m trying to deal with my illness, Frankie is only thinking about Frankie. Again.”

He downed his scotch and poured another. “It’s a pattern with you, isn’t it? We said we were going to try for two children, but you couldn’t deal with losing your figure for a second time. I’m diagnosed with a serious illness, and the only thing you give a shit about is whether you’ll ever get laid again. So much so that you screw a diplomat, and at my personal cost. Fuck! I footed your hotel bill!” His anger mounted again. “As if that wasn’t enough, you then move on to bang your best friend’s husband at the expense of your only real friendship. Was that even a consideration to you? And with my so-called best mate.”

There! He knew about her and John. Frankie recoiled. “You don’t give a fuck about anyone, do you?”

She looked up. Her husband towered over her as she sat at the table trying to steady her breath. He wanted, more than anything, to slap her. She could feel it, his eyes burnt into her. It was a look she recognised. It was the first time she had seen it in him.

But then he seemed to collect himself. He righted his chair and he slumped back into it across from her. His voice was softer this time. “What a win for you◦– Jen being away. You could spend the whole night with her husband, in their bed, or wherever it is you prefer to fuck. Pity Jen messed things up. How fucking inconsiderate of her to call you ’cause maybe she needed to cry on her best friend’s shoulder.” Frankie looked at Lee. He wasn’t looking at her. “I’m ashamed for you, for both of you!” His eyes met hers and Frankie’s head dropped. “I don’t know what a doos you think I am, but I will no longer be made a fool of and I will no longer allow you to make a fool of Jen.”

The last time Frankie had seen Lee even nearly this enraged was when she’d refused to try for a second child. Of course she felt remorse about Jen, but it had never been her intention to break up the marriage. What she felt most at that moment was afraid◦– afraid she would lose Lee, and as a result, lose absolutely everything.

“I’m sorry, Lee,” she said in a little-girl voice. “I love you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You’re my world.”

“Ag kak, Frankie! I’m supposed to believe your bullshit? Don’t insult me, please. That’s enough. Just shut up and let me speak. You’re not in a position to say another word. You hear me?”

Frankie nodded. Her finger throbbed.

“I’ll tell you what you’re going to do so that your Persian rug isn’t ripped from under you; because that’s what you’re really scared of, be honest, you gold digging, calculating…”

The unspoken word ‘whore’ hung in the air between them.

He finished his scotch and chewed on the ice as if this would cool his temper. It seemed to work, because when he spoke again, it was with calm control. “You will end this, uh, relationship with John. I don’t care how you do it. Next, my darling wife, he cannot know I know about your affair, d’you understand? I’m warning you, if you want to save what marriage we have, do not tell him I know about you two. And you will continue to be Jen’s friend, unless of course she finds out what you’ve been doing.”

Frankie was about to interrupt him, but she knew he’d meant it when he said she should shut up.

“Unless she figures it out on her own, she must never know. She’s dealt with enough, what with a cheating father and a fuckhead husband who has no fucking concept of the words loyalty and honesty. Come to think of it, you’re kindred spirits, aren’t you?” Lee’s laugh chilled her. “Except, I think that you were loyal to him. What a crap surprise it must’ve been to find out about Patty. But Patty is just a drop in the ocean of his lies and deceit.” Lee smirked. “Ag, please don’t kid yourself into believing that you’re the only one besides Patty. John has many, many women.” As he spoke, he placed a plain brown envelope in front of his wife. She looked at it but didn’t move to see what its contents were.“Aren’t you curious? Open it. Look at the pictures of your adoring lover. See how devoted he is to you.”

Frankie’s shoulders shook as she wept. She couldn’t believe how cruelly her husband was behaving. He had never spoken to her like this before. He hardly ever swore at her. And now she was made to open the envelope. She tore off the seal and shook the contents onto the table. Pictures of John with different women, some of whom Frankie knew or had seen around revealed themselves to her. She lifted one, looked at it then put it down replacing it with another. Lee stood over her, his arms crossed, making sure she had seen every one of them. One series of shots captured John sitting at a bar counter alone. A woman joins him, they talk and then there’s a shot of him lighting her cigarette. The final shot in the series is of him leaving the bar with his hand wrapped around her waist. Frankie was one of a multitude of women. Despite feeling anger towards John, it was Lee at whom she wanted to lash out; he had succeeded in humiliating her, and what was worse, it was her husband who had been the one to expose her lover’s sexual promiscuity.

“Hurts, doesn’t it, darling?”

There were no photos of her with John. She couldn’t be sure that Lee didn’t have any; he just hadn’t included them with the others. He’s been planning this for months. He’s been planning to hurt and humiliate me and now he’s enjoying it. Frankie did not believe she deserved this kind of humiliation at the hands of her husband.

“I only hope you’ve been taking precautions,” he said as he left the kitchen, “or else you’ve given yourself and me something more to worry about.”

Frankie followed him down the passage. When he emerged from their bedroom carrying an overnight bag, she started to panic.