Shivering slightly, I pulled my jacket more tightly across my chest. A car pulled into the car park and reversed into the space behind me, the headlights dazzling me as they bounced off my rear-view mirror. I squinted and waited for the driver to switch the lights off but, instead, they applied full-beam. I shivered again, but not from the cold this time. It was late. It was dark. It was deserted. It really wasn’t the place for a lone female to be. I started Bertie’s engine and pulled out of the car park, praying that the car wouldn’t follow. Thankfully it didn’t.
Where was I going? There were only three people I knew locally in whom I could confide, who wouldn’t treat my news as the gossip of the century, but none of them were options. I could hardly turn up at Sarah’s on the night of her engagement, could I? Jess and Lee were visiting friends in Leeds and staying overnight, and Kay had party guests staying at hers. I had no choice. I had to go home.
As I steered Bertie back into Abbey Drive, my heart raced. The house was in darkness. With any luck, Gary would have gone to bed and I could slip into the spare room unnoticed.
I parked Bertie next to the Lexus and gently closed the door behind me. I tiptoed up the drive, slowly turned the key in the lock, and tried to close the door behind me quietly, but failed. The hall light flicked on and Gary ran towards me, arms outstretched.
‘Li! Thank God!’ He wrapped his arms round me and drew me to his chest where I could feel his heart racing. ‘I’ve been out of my mind with worry.’
For months, I’d longed for him to hold me closely, but not like this. Not a hug laden with worry and guilt. Devoid of the energy to pull away, I remained rigid and unresponsive in his arms.
He squeezed me tightly. ‘You’re freezing. Where have you been? Are you okay? Do you want a cup of tea? Something stronger?’
‘I want tonight never to have happened,’ I whispered.
Gary released his hold and took a step back. ‘I’m so sorry. It shouldn’t have happened.’
My legs felt weak. I sat down on the stairs and looked up into the face I loved. ‘You were with a man. I know things have been tense but… a man, Gary. Why? I don’t understand.’ I had so many other questions, including how long it had been going on, but I was too afraid to know because what if he’d been seeing other men throughout our marriage? I wasn’t strong enough to hear that.
He looked down at his feet and shrugged. ‘I can’t explain.’ He looked up again. ‘I don’t understand either.’
I stared into his dark eyes, took a deep breath, and asked the terrifying question: ‘Are you gay?’
He kept his eyes on me. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.’
‘Do you love me?’
His eyes softened. ‘Of course I do.’
‘Then why? Wasn’t I enough for you?’
‘I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.’
I took a deep breath, then rose from the stairs. ‘I’m going to bed. Do you want to sleep in our room or the spare room?’
‘Li…’
‘It’s not negotiable, Gary. I can’t lie beside you tonight after what I saw earlier. Surely you understand that?’
He nodded slowly. ‘I’ll take the spare room. I’m really sorry.’
‘So am I.’
I couldn’t sleep that night. I felt absolutely drained, body, mind and soul, yet I couldn’t seem to drift off. Every time I closed my eyes, I could hear the water cascading and see their bodies entwined. I’d stripped the bed – just in case the action had started there – but as I lay between the fresh sheets, I could still smell Gary. At 2.38 a.m. I got out of bed, grabbed Gary’s pillows, hurled them into the en-suite and shut the door. The smell had gone, but the image certainly hadn’t.
My mind replayed over and over again the day Curtis identified Gary as being gay and every pivotal moment in our relationship from that point: engagement, wedding, honeymoon, holidays, anniversaries, birthdays, Christmases. They’d all been happy. Yes, we’d had the occasional argument, but didn’t everyone? They were always about banal things like him hating the lime green kettle I’d impulse-purchased, or me being frustrated with him for being a creature of habit and always wanting to dine out in the same three restaurants in town, including Sammy’s Steakhouse. Hello! Vegetarian here! They were never arguments about him lusting after other men.
He couldn’t be gay. He couldn’t be. But could he be bisexual? Had he always been? What about Rob? What was going on there? He’d definitely moved back to Whitsborough Bay after splitting up with his long-term girlfriend. Did that mean Rob was bisexual?
My head ached from so many unanswered questions. I rose and swallowed another couple of paracetamol then opened one of the curtains and stared out into the dark, deserted street. 4.17 a.m. Good grief. I needed sleep. I needed relief from the confusion raging inside me.
The sensation of someone sitting on the bed beside me awoke me with a jolt.
‘Gary!’ I squinted in the sunlight pouring through the curtain that I’d obviously forgotten to close again during the night. ‘What time is it?’
‘Eleven.’
I let out a sigh of relief, realising it was Sunday. Phew. No work. But a gay husband. Perhaps.
Gary pointed to a mug on my bedside cabinet. ‘I’ve made you some tea.’
I didn’t feel he deserved a thank you. A cup of tea in bed was hardly recompense for what he’d done yesterday.
‘We’ve got lunch at my mum’s,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to cancel?’
I closed my eyes for a moment and shook my head. ‘I just want everything back to normal.’ Much as I couldn’t bear the woman, Sunday lunch with Cynthia twice a month was normality, and I absolutely needed that right now.
Gary frowned. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure. What time?’
‘We need to leave in forty minutes.’
‘Okay.’ I peeled back the duvet and smiled sweetly. ‘I’ll just take a shower, then don my perfect wife clothes. Yippee! Lunch with Cynthia. My favouritest thing ever.’
Gary tugged on his left earlobe. ‘You’re acting strangely.’
I stood up, stretched and winced at the throbbing in my head. ‘Am I? I’m sorry. Is this not how a wife should act the day after finding her husband shagging another man in the shower?’ I flinched at the sarcasm in my voice.
‘We weren’t shagging.’
‘Oh dear. Did I catch you during foreplay and ruin the main event?’
‘Elise! That’s not called for.’
‘Neither was your behaviour last night.’
We stared at each other. My head thumped and I felt sick again.
‘I’ll go to my mum’s on my own,’ he muttered, turning to leave the room.
‘Oh no you won’t. I’m coming.’
‘I don’t think you should. Not while you’re like this.’
‘It’s your fault I’m… oh shit!’ I clapped my hand over my mouth and sprinted for the toilet.
The rest of Sunday passed in a blur of sleep, interrupted by dashes to the toilet. Gary cancelled lunch with his mother to bring me water, hold my hair back while I vomited, and plump my pillows. He was so attentive and caring that I could almost forget that last night had happened. Almost.