When I invited my friend home for a casual get-together, I had no idea that his proficiency in French would uncover a shocking twist in my family’s history. Even though my father was using the term casually, his quick reply made it clear that there was more to the story.
A simple get-together quickly devolved into the revelation of long-kept family secrets, for which none of us had prepared.Chad invited his friend Nolan to stay with him and improve their French when his wife Camille and her parents were in town from France. Once they were seated to eat,
Aside than mon chéri and a few other dishes, I don’t know much about French cuisine. Recently, my in-laws have been Now picture this: Everyone is enjoying their bouillabaisse while seated at the table. At work, Nolan and I were talking about an audit, while Camille and her parents were happily conversing in French. Everything appears well, doesn’t it? Untrue. As we talk about work, Nolan’s complexion becomes remarkably pale, giving him the appearance of a ghost. Then he strikes his elbow sharply at my arm.”When you go upstairs, look under your bed. Have faith in me,” he exhorts. My initial response was to laugh it off since it was so ridiculous. But I could tell by looking into his big eyes that this was no joke. “Pardon me,” I said to the table. “I’ll return immediately.”I reluctantly headed for my bedroom, feeling as though I I scooped Camille’s silver silk robe off the floor and bent to look under the bed.My heart was racing so fast I thought I might pass out from the stress. Still, there it stood—a single black box. I pulled open the box with trembling hands, quickly going through its contents for fear that Camille would come seeking for me. I discovered more barely dressed photographs of Camille around the bottom. My heart started to beat more quickly, and I started to feel terrible. What have I learned lately? I asked myself several questions.
Everything went dark as I was about to rearrange everything.A few hours later, I woke up in a medical ward surrounded by empty beds. The bright light continued to shine down on me even after my eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar surroundings and the strong smell of detergent. “Woah,” I exclaimed, my throat raw.
That’s when I noticed Nolan sitting beside me with his arm resting on his head.He answered, “You passed out in your bedroom, mate.” “What took place?”Then I realized everything. My frenzied interest mixed with my racing heart rate from a panic episode behind the bed, Camille’s box. I opened the box out of curiosity, only to find my own Pandora’s Box inside.
When I opened it, I found a tale of treachery woven from priceless pictures of Camille, adoring letters to a man named Benoit, and other trinkets. Camille had lied to people about having an affair, it turns out.It was “you were taking forever,” Nolan replied. I decided to go after you when you were unconscious on the ground.
I called Camille and an ambulance, then closed the box and placed it back under. I asked, keeping in mind Nolan’s warning, “How were you aware of this?” “Chad, I studied French my entire high school career,” he replied. “I am aware that Camille talked about concealing items under the bed during their conversation. I apologize. I said, “What happened to Camille?”She stated that she had to visit the Give me another chance,” she pleaded. All of it was not what I wanted, though.Camille contested all provisions of the agreement, including the house and spousal maintenance, during the brief divorce process. She even demanded that I pay for her annual trip to France. I declined everything but the house. In any case, I was tired of being there.
My new abode is a bachelor pad that’s closer to my office.Yes, I do have heartbreak. At least I’m not lying anymore, though. And it feels liberating. I also want to thank Nolan for being upfront with me and helping me through our divorce. Now that I’m wondering, is Camille going to end up with Benoit? If so, I’m sure her parents would be ecstatic.If you had been in my shoes, what would you have done?