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The Mistress' POV

The Mistress' POV



General Romance

A mistress is often perceived as the antagonist of marriage but for once, can a mistress be the protagonist of her own story? Harriet Ivien Tuffin is a 26-year-old girl who has almost everything – a decent family, a stable job, a continuous paycheck and most especially, a mature boyfriend, Althird Grange Miller. All are going smoothly in her life – they already have plans for their marriage, they are both open with their families and they are both striving hard for their dreams. But things slowly became rough when they celebrated their seven years of being together. As time passes by, Vien is already seeing the flaws of their relationship and becoming hopeless because of their situation. She spent a lot of time getting clues and connecting signs in order to discover the truth behind the drastic change of their relationship. All throughout, she expected that there’s another woman in Third’s life, and she was not mistaken. But what surprised her the most is.. The man who’s been with him for so long is married to someone. And she is not that someone. Rather, she is the other woman. She is the mistress.

I smiled seeing how he turned our room into something amazing. With the lights off, there are scented candles on the floor that smell like apples, white rose petals scattered everywhere even on my bed, and there’s my man, wearing a blue polo, holding a book while walking towards me.

“Happy 7th anniversary, my love!” he immediately embraced me as I stepped a foot inside my room. I buried my face in his neck, wanting more of his smell.

This man never fails to amaze me. True to his words during the time we officially became together, he really makes me feel special every now and then.

“Thank you, love! I told you, a date is enough for me. But thank you, I really love you.”

I am not the one who loves surprises, he is just the one who loves surprising me. He keeps on saying that even though I won’t admit it, he knows that I get used to it and I’ll expect something in every special occasion we celebrate together. Well, it’s true that I am always expecting something because I really want us to celebrate special moments, but truth to be told, just being together is enough. My boyfriend is just being so extra.

He always loves to pamper me. He gives me all my needs. Many years had passed but never did we ever talk about breaking up. Of course, we also surpass petty fights. But we already planned our future together. If it weren’t for my career, we could be married by now. But we can both wait. He never pressured me to enter married life with him. Now, how can I ask for more if I already have my person?

“I love you more, baby. I have a gift for you.” He handed me the book he was holding earlier. “Here, add it to your collection, Ma’am.”

I am a Secondary English Teacher. Believe me when I say that his hobby is buying me books that could help in improving my skills. I don’t mind it either since it is crucial for my skills. Now, he just gave me the fourth edition of Raymond Murphy’s Grammar In Use. Where is he getting those?

“Mind you, it is your collection. I never bought any book on that shelf. It all came from you.” He just chuckled as he put the book on the shelf, which he apparently also bought. It’s like that side of my room belongs to him.

Third also wants to become a teacher, but he was obliged to handle their shoe businesses so he couldn't follow his own dreams. He shifted to a different course in the middle of college. That's why during my college years, he never got tired of reminding me of my dream, especially during the moments where I almost gave up because of pressures and self-disappointment.

I was the first to graduate with the degree of education and after two years of waiting, he also graduated with his degree of business. Now, we are both professionals who are doing good in our respective jobs.

We met way back in college, same course, same block, same major. I was a happy-go-lucky type of girl and he is the type of boy that was always alone, reading books, or sometimes sleeping. We just crossed our paths because he chose to be in my group even though we are all girls in there. His reason was because our other guy classmates don’t take group activities seriously. Well, he is correct though. He was the only boy in our class who’s interested in reading 80-page novel stories. It is a cliché story about how a girl and a guy met, but that was really how we started.

When we became a couple, it was only then he admitted that he joined my group with an aim of impressing me with his intelligence. He didn’t fail though. I developed an infatuation towards him because of that characteristic.

“Why? What are you thinking? You’re in deep thoughts, huh?” He’s already in front of me when I finished reminiscing about our first encounter together.

“I just can’t believe that it’s been seven years since I met you.” Or more than that? Well, we became friends for months, courted me for a year and have been together for seven years. Almost half of my life was spent with him and I don't regret those. I felt loved and he knows his limits towards me.

He just smiled and gently caressed my hand, “Love, I love you always. Please remember that. Whatever may happen, I will always be with you. I don’t care if it takes a decade, a century or even a millennium.”

“What are you saying?” I laughed at the thought of being with him until our hair was already white. I can’t imagine his face sixty years from now.

Third is really handsome. Well, it runs in their blood. When I saw his mom and his younger sisters, I thought that God has his favorites. How could he put too much effort in planning the life of this family? It’s too perfect – the looks, the height, the body, the status, the personality – everything is just good.

When he graduated college, he dyed his hair grey and he wanted to keep it that way so every time he saw a brown strand of hair, he would always go to the salon and dye it back to grey. He even convinced me to do the same but because of school rules, I can’t. Plus, I don't think I could pull off that hair color.

I am not saying that I look like a potato compared to him and his family. My dad is an engineer and my mom is also a teacher. I have an older sister that runs a business and is happily living with her husband and two kids. I also came from a decent family, just not as rich as them. I may not be as tall as him but compared to other girls at my age, I am quite taller. I have fair skin which I got from my dad who is an American and I have small eyes that I got from my Asian mom. Well, just to justify that I am not really that bad.

Our family and friends often see Third and I as a blessed couple. Not only in looks, but also in lifestyle. It always makes my heart happy when they say that we are really match made in heaven. Everyone around us knows that it'll be us together until the end. We have some friends whom we have seen crying because of breakups and they would always tell that we are lucky because we are not experiencing any of those. Well, as I've said, Third is the perfect partner for me.

“Cook food for me. Please?” One thing that God didn’t give to Third is the skill of cooking. In our seven years together, he only cooked for me on our second anniversary and I advised him not to do so. The dishes and kitchen were a mess back then. We ended up ordering food in a nearby fast food restaurant just to satisfy our hunger. He is really a bad cook.

“All right. What do you want?” He went outside my room and went to the kitchen. I followed him and saw him opening the fridge. Wow, this guy is really acting like he owns my condo.

“Hmm. Carbonara, love? Please?” He turned his head and I saw those pouting lips of his. His favorite, carbonara. How many times in a week are we eating this pasta?

“Okay, Sir. Wait on the sofa. This will just be quick.”

He helped me prepare all the things needed before he proceeded to turn the TV on and patiently wait for his food.

I was so immersed in cooking that I didn’t notice that Third is nowhere to be seen. I tried calling out his name a few times but I didn’t receive any response. I just shrugged it off thinking he was in the bathroom and placed the food on the dining table and also prepared some drinks. I washed all the utensils I used in cooking while waiting for him.

Few minutes passed, and the pasta’s getting colder so I decided to call him. Where did that man go?

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Something doesn’t seem right. After checking the doors in my condo, I left thinking that he might have just gone for a walk in the park near us. I was about to ride on the elevator when I saw a silhouette of a man near the fire exit of my condo floor. I stepped back and when I confirmed that it was my boyfriend, I slowly went to him, planning to surprise him. I didn’t hear any sound at all, but as I opened the glass door, his voice echoed.

“How many times do I have to tell you, don’t call me when I’m with her. Let me have a life, please. Let me breathe for Pete's sake!” He was so angry that I saw his back panting heavily like he was out of breath.

I am sure that I’m the ‘her’ he is pertaining to, but what I’m not sure is, who is he talking to?