The Eternal Mistress
Lily had an unusual hobby—she stole married men from their families. Her fascination with husbands began in her youth. At first, it was just harmless flings, but over time, it became an obsession—or, as she called it, a sport.
Long ago, when she was young, she had fallen madly in love with a man. Their romance blossomed quickly; he even proposed and met her parents. He was in her town for work and, before filing for marriage, decided to visit his family to share the news.
Then he vanished.
A week later, she discovered she was pregnant by Paul (that was his name).
Knowing his surname and hometown, Lily searched for him.
She found him—only to learn he had been happily married for three years.
The shock caused her to lose the baby. She sank into depression but eventually pulled herself together, vowing to move on.
From then on, she despised married men and swore revenge.
Lily was striking, the kind of woman people called a temptress.
At 44, she still had a slender figure, thick hair, and smooth skin. She had no children, but her high-paying job meant she wanted for nothing.
And she changed jobs often—all because of her obsession with married men.
Every man she had ever seduced ended up divorced and then abandoned.
Women loathed her, but men couldn’t resist. She wasn’t classically beautiful, yet something about her drew them in.
Countless marriages had crumbled because of her.
She had no interest in weak men who chased anything in a skirt. Her preferred targets were successful men, those with long, stable marriages.
For the past year, she had been seeing just such a man.
His name was James, and he was the commercial director at her firm.
48 years old, three children, and nearly two decades with the same woman. A tough nut to crack.
James occasionally indulged in flings with younger women—just for fun. But he loved his wife and guarded her peace fiercely. He always came home on time, never turned off his phone, and was always reachable.
His wife was plain—no plastic surgery, no plump lips, none of the “upgrades” women used to keep men interested.
Lily didn’t win him over easily. She was careful—arranging “accidental” meetings, brushing against him in narrow office corridors, dropping files in front of him. Every trick in the book.
Eventually, she noticed his lingering looks. After the Christmas office party, they left for a hotel together.
After that, James couldn’t go a day without her. He called constantly, summoned her to his office over trivial matters. Evenings were spent in their love nest—a cosy flat he’d rented in the city centre.
But for all his passion, he never mentioned divorcing his wife. He never stayed long, always hurrying back after an hour or two. Weekends were strictly off-limits for Lily.
Once, she spotted James with his wife in a supermarket and decided to approach them.
“James, hello!”
“Oh, Lily! Out shopping too?” He turned to his wife. “Mary, this is our accountant.”
James went pale, then flushed. His wife smiled warmly.
How does he live with her? Lily thought.
Plain, plump, unpolished.
And he’s not leaving her. We’ve been together so long, yet he’s never once stayed the night.
This wasn’t the way things usually went. Her past lovers had cracked much faster.
The doorbell rang. James stood there, clutching a huge bouquet.
“Lily, I missed you so much—I can’t be without you!” He wrapped her in a hug.
Is he finally going to leave her? she wondered.
But he said nothing of the sort.
James admitted his wife was growing suspicious, so they’d have to meet less often.
“Of course, darling. Whatever you say.” She batted her lashes. “But it’s my birthday soon. I’d love to celebrate at that new little restaurant on the edge of town. No one we know will be there.”
“All right,” he relented. “But after that, we only meet at the flat. No risks.”
Inside, Lily seethed. Hiding from some frumpy housewife? Waiting like some discarded secret?
Enough.
She picked up her phone and typed:
“If you want to know what your husband does in his free time, come to ‘The Three Bells’ tomorrow at 7 PM. You’ll be surprised.” She attached a few photos and hit send.
She’d bought the SIM card weeks ago, and James’s wife’s number? Snooped from his phone long before.
The next evening, they sat in the nearly empty restaurant, soft music playing.
James held her hands, kissing them as he ordered expensive wine.
“James? Is this true? Are you cheating?” His wife stood behind him, lips trembling, face twisted in pain.
“Mary! It’s not what you think! This is just—business. Celebrating a deal!”
“And was this another deal?” She thrust her phone at him—a picture of him and Lily in bed.
Mary turned and walked out without another word.
James sat frozen, staring at Lily with disbelief and hatred.
“Why?” he demanded.
“Why? A year of my life wasted on you! I thought you’d leave her! I waited!”
“Leave her? Are you insane? I love my wife. You were just fun—beautiful, exciting. But I’d never live with someone like you.”
James and Mary divorced. His children took her side, refusing to speak to him. A month later, he had a stroke. The doctors fought, but it was too late. A once-happy family, destroyed.
Mary never remarried.
Lily quit the firm, found another job, and carried on as before. But lately, she’d been craving something different—a man of her own, a child.
No such luck. To them, she’d always be the mistress. Never the wife.
