Based on the Film the End of the Affair.
"You come into my life, like an infestation, and want my life to be perfect? You'll never give me what Henry gave me."
"And what exactly did Henry give you?
Sarah stopped in her tracks. She dropped her velvet green bag by the door and spun round to face Bendrix, his shadow overpowering him as the light of the moon streamed through the windows casting a ghostly glow on his face.
"We've been like this for so long" she trailed her words; regretting letting them slip from her mouth. "I am always Jealous Sarah. I worry. I wonder..do you love me?"
Sarah opened her mouth in protest but nodded. They always had this before Sarah left for the cinema.
"I am jealous of that screen. The one you watch. I even envy those tattered red seats that ensure your comfort for two sodden hours a week."
Sarah marched up to Bendrix and clipped his ear before passionately kissing him. He held onto her face and stared into her eyes.
"Jealousy is something God created"
"God has already punished me enough" she sighed, and walked out of the house. The creak of the garden gate opening and the clattering of her heels until it were silent again. Bendrix retreated to his typewriter, which every letter on the keys was fading into obscurity. Part of Sarah's terms was for Bendrix to never write about what happened with Henry. It wasn't fair to crush a man's heart and then squander any reputation he had. It was so tempting. Bendrix often kept secret notes on the affair, reading a little every day until he choked up and stopped. The part where Sarah got ill, Bendrix wrote in such extravagant detail that it was a shame he was not going to publish it. It was surely a bestseller in his eyes. He rubbed his fingers around the corners of the page marked "The Betrayal" until he nicked his finger and a prick of blood spurted onto the page. Thoughts attacked his mind. Rich and famous he would be, could he risk losing Sarah? The blood dried as he diminished the thoughts to the back of his mind. Since his sudden belief in God, Bendrix gingerly read a section of the bible every day. He turned to the story of Job, a man who lost everything by the Devil, being tested for his faithfulness to God. Sarah's unfaithfulness. Slamming the book shut Bendrix raced back to the pages of blotted unpublished work.
I'm starting from the middle, because frankly I've started from the beginning dozens of times and it still doesn't explain by the end what happened the way it did. Sarah and I were lovers, indeed it has already been established that we would meet every day in the wartime squander of bomb alerts. Living in London was something Sarah and I would discuss most frequently. She had thought about living in Surrey with Henry, a large townhouse, amidst the quiet suburbs. Henry wanted to buy it. She was determined to keep somewhere busy. I laughed at this point. Busy as a bee Sarah, although it was Henry doing all the government business. We rarely discussed what was going on with Westminster, although being a few bus stops away from the place in cosy Clapham. Her house was always a treat for me as the maid was always in keeping a well trained eye on the situation. The first time we made love was at hers, I remember it clear as a starry night sky. What was she wearing, a breezy cotton skirt that flowed with her dainty walk, red patent heels that had a slight tear in the point and a silk chiffon top that accentuated her amazing breasts, the top button sneakily undone as if she knew I was watching. She knew that I couldn't wait to tear the clothes off her. I knew it was meant to be.
Bendrix kept most of the explicit descriptions of lovemaking in a locked drawer with the key hidden around the neck of a 1942 bad South African wine.
Miracles do happen. That's what Sarah always said to me. That time, knocked out and bleeding heavily she prayed. Praying I always thought of to be a lonely man's job. The thing you do when you've lost everything apart from your right arm. Miracles? Only a deep religious incantation would've brought me back to "life" so it says. I'll envy Sarah right to the end. Envious of my love for her? Or envious that she brought a connection so deep to me. Me. Bendrix Morrissey. I, was kissed by someone even more loving than Sarah. The angels. I'll always be cynical about the whole theory, but will never forget what she did for me. Most humans are raised into love, and leave from love of others, but how many could raise their hands and say someone looked into another person's faith and prayed so hard she promised to give up herself for me. I am just one man. I am a fraud. I do not deserve this.
By the time Sarah was back, Bendrix was slouched in his chair, asleep. She kissed his forehead and fed her hands through his hair. She kicked off her heels and tiptoed upstairs to her bedroom where a rather fancy victorian dresser was. It was pink patterned; swirly white roses surrounded the immaculate mirror that greatly reflected Sarah's face. She looked radiant, her pale skin tone smooth with the first touch of her fingers. Underneath the array of cosmetics she kicked open a broken part of the dresser, a shabby bottom drawer where the painted roses almost wilted. A brown tatty book and a cotton bookmark frayed right to the end where it was only a couple of wispy strands. She picked it up and inhaled it all in. The only remains of Henry she ever had. She turned to the first page, yellow and hanging off, a note "Happy Birthday Sarah, I hope this Diary is useful to you in many ways, All my love Henry." She let out a possessive laugh and opened to the second-to-last page in the book, blotting an ink pen and holding it respectfully in her hand. She signed the date.
The book is getting heavier and heavier each day. The pages have gone. My time is up. When was my time up? When I started this audacious affair? When I was dying? No love is as strong as your love, because You are who I serve. You saved him in return for my end of the precious affair, yet I did not die when you punished me. Did I find the light before it was too late? I know you work in mysterious ways. I have seen many of these miracles, too many for a selfish being like me. I prayed in your home again, like I do every Wednesday. This time it felt different. I could feel your calling. You have been so kind to me and Bendrix, but as this diary ends I think it's time to start a new chapter.