Block 2

The door was shut but that hardly kept out the sounds of persistent fucking that were coming out of the 2 bedroom apartment. The neighbours of Block 2B had varied opinions. The men lived vicariously through the owner's indiscretions and thought he was a right stud. The women gave him dirty looks whenever he was around and gossiped viciously about the girl that was with him.

They usually arrived seperately, him in his gold four-wheel drive and her in her black sedan. But they walked hand in hand through security, she the blushing ingenue, and him the self-assured gentleman. They usually gave him a thumbs-up followed by a cheeky grin if they were feeling particularly sociable. The women said that the innocence was a facade. She was a gold-digger, trying to get her manicured claws deep into the man who was obviously well off.

But something was different today. She was sitting outside the pad-locked door, alone and waiting.

Mrs. Unit C had been watching her for 3 hours. And all she had done was stare resolutely in front of her. At times her eyes were brimming with tears but as the minutes ticked by they became dry again. Mrs. Unit C continued to keep watch, taking a good look at her in the process.

No fancy nails or designer purse. She was wearing her hair up with a simple tank and shorts. Her breasts were firm and her hips soft with the gift of youth. Was this the picture of a vile mistress that they talked about during the day? In spite of herself Mrs. Unit C opened her door and spoke to the girl behind the grille.

"You can get the key from security if you want."

The girl was surprised, but smiled at her and shook her head.

"No, that's alright. I don't want to bother anyone, I'll just wait here for him. I'm not the owner anyway, I have no legal right to the keys."

She looked down as she said it, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

Not knowing what else to say, and surpressing the urge to comfort her, Mrs. Unit C closed her door, feeling conflicted at her view of Unit 2B. The next day she mentioned it over coffee with the other women of Block 2.

"She looked so sad."

Mrs. Unit A looked at her in disbelief. She was a single mother whose husband had left her for his secretary. The affair was very distressing and all, but the most painful thing about it for her was that it had been so cliche. Because she had never thought they would fall into that pattern and into that box. Mrs. Unit A certainly had no illusions about love, but she didn't begrudge it either.

"The minute she got involved with him she made her choice. She has no one to blame but herself."

Her voice hardened.

"Tell me, what kind of a person gets involved with a married man? Its like eating someone's leftovers!"

Mrs. Unit C tried to defend her.

"But maybe she really loves him?"

"How you feel is not a choice, but staying with someone is a choice. Having an affair with a married man, now that's a choice, not something that is beyond your control."

"But when love comes into play, shouldn't all logic go out of the window?" Mrs. Unit D chimed in, always keen to be the devil's advocate.

"Everybody has a choice. He made a choice when he married his wife. He made a choice when he chose NOT to divorce her. And he makes a choice everytime he fucks her. WE'RE the ones without a choice and are forced to listen everytime they're here!"

They grimaced together.

Mrs. Unit A continued softly.

"My ex-husband had a choice too, and he made it so quickly that sometimes I wonder if what we had meant anything to him at all."

Her words hung in the air. It was the first time she had talked about it openly since it happened. The other women had noted that there had not been any arguments or shouting that came from Unit A. In all appearances it had been a happy and fulfilling marriage, and at all group functions they had seem the most well adjusted and were doting parents. The divorce came out of nowhere, but they naturally assumed that there had been problems within their walls.

Now they realised that perhaps Mrs. Unit A had been the most shocked of them all.

Mrs. Unit C reached out and touched her arm. She looked up, a resolute smile on her face.

"Don't worry, I chose to move on."