‘Lounge or kitchen?’ he asked.
‘Kitchen.’
‘It’s a bit messy too. Sorry.’
Talk about an understatement. There couldn’t have been any glasses, plates, or mugs left in the cupboards; they were all piled high on the worktops. Pans soaking in some dubious-coloured water filled the sink. Empty yogurt pots, spilled cereal, breadcrumbs and banana peels were strewn everywhere, and an obnoxious smell emanated from the direction of the overflowing bin.
‘It’s bad, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Sorry.’
I nodded. ‘Gary, I…’ I genuinely didn’t know what to say. I looked at his face and, although I longed to feel hate and anger still, my heart went out to him instead. He clearly hadn’t shaved for a couple of weeks. He often sported stubble, but this was a beard. The dark rings under his eyes, the hollow cheeks, and the haunted eyes reminded me of how I’d looked just before I moved into Kay’s.
‘I’m no good without you,’ he whispered.
He reached out towards me, but I stepped back, unnerved by the intimacy.
‘Look at me, Li.’
‘It’s Elise. You really should load the dishwasher after each meal, you know. It takes seconds, but if you pile stuff up like this, it becomes a mammoth task. And there’s a funny smell coming fro—’
‘Li! Stop!’
My heart raced as I turned round slowly and raised my gaze to meet his. ‘It’s Elise!’ I cried.
‘Sorry. I’ll try to…’ He shook his head. ‘I miss you. I’m lost without you.’ His dark eyes, so full of pain, filled with tears and the next moment he was sobbing. I’d only seen Gary cry twice before: when his dad died and when he received a card from his brother, congratulating him on becoming a qualified GP and enclosing a photograph of the four-year-old nephew and two-year-old niece he hadn’t known existed.
My hands twitched. I didn’t want to touch him, but every instinct in me screamed out to comfort him. I couldn’t just stand helplessly by the fridge and let him cry. ‘Come here. It’ll be all right.’
As I held Gary tightly, I willed myself not to start crying too. He’d said he was lost without me. What did that mean? Surely there was no going back. No matter how much it hurt both of us, we were better off apart. We had to be. Living a lie wasn’t healthy for either of us.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered into my hair, still clinging onto me.
‘It’s okay. We’ll get through this.’ I didn’t want him to hold me anymore. It didn’t feel right. I steered him towards one of the chairs. Thankfully, he didn’t resist. ‘You said you needed to talk and it was urgent,’ I prompted.
Gary sat back against his chair and wiped his eyes, then he turned to look at me. ‘You look really well.’
I shrugged. ‘Thank you. And…?’
‘I like your hair like that.’
I self-consciously reached up to my hair, which I’d let Kay straighten for me for the first time ever when I’d got in from school. I hoped he didn’t think I’d done it for his benefit. ‘Thank you again, but I wasn’t fishing for another compliment. Why am I here?’ I sat down, waiting for his answer.
He stared at me as he twiddled with his earlobe and I held my breath while the kitchen clock ticked, the fridge-freezer hummed, and my heart hammered. What was he building up to? It was going to be about Rob moving in, wasn’t it? I tried to mentally prepare myself not to flinch, cry, or scream.
‘I’m struggling. Will you move back in?’ He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away.
‘I’ll give you anything you want,’ he said. ‘We can even have a baby if that’s what you really want. We can act like a normal family.’
Oh my goodness! He’d just offered me the one thing I desperately wanted. At my session with Jem on Sunday, I’d admitted I still wanted Gary’s baby and he’d challenged me on why I needed a man – particularly Gary – to fulfil my dreams of motherhood. He’d really pushed until I’d broken down in tears and cried, ‘Because one parent isn’t enough. You need two for when one of them can’t cope with life anymore and finds the answer at the bottom of a bottle of gin.’ ‘You’re not like your mother,’ Jem had assured me. ‘You’ll never be like her.’
I stared at Gary as my body stiffened and my nails dug into my palms. Jem had insisted that a baby with Gary wasn’t the way forward and I hadn’t wanted to hear it, but, now that the offer was on the table, I realised he’d been right. He was always right. Gary was gay and, although he might be struggling right now, he’d get through it and what would happen to me if I agreed to have a baby with him? I’d be pregnant and he’d be with Rob, or someone else and I’d be even more messed up than I was right now because of it.
‘Are you still seeing Rob?’ I asked.
With his eyes down, he nodded. ‘He thinks I’m still in love with you. We’ve had a huge argument about it.’
‘And are you?’
‘No… yes… I don’t know.’
I swallowed hard on the lump in my throat. ‘You don’t love me, Gary. I’m not going to debate whether you ever did, but you definitely don’t love me now. Not in that way. You do love Rob, though, and I think you’ve panicked about what this means after years of lying to yourself and everyone you know. Getting back with me and having a baby would be like putting a sticking plaster on a broken leg: ineffective in solving or covering up the real problem.’ I reached for my bag and stood up. ‘I realise this is hard for you too. You’ve been fighting who you are for sixteen or seventeen years. I can’t imagine what that must feel like, but you’ve found the person with whom you want to be, the person with whom you can be you. Why not just accept that and stop fighting against who you really are? I know you’re worried about keeping up appearances and I’d be lying if I said there won’t be some gossip, but it will mainly be because people will be surprised rather than because they’re being malicious. If you’ve lived a lie and fought against who you are for more than half your life, you must be made of pretty strong stuff, so you can ride out whatever storm hits you when this all comes out.’
‘You really think so?’ Tears sprung in Gary’s eyes again.
‘I know so.’ I reached out and lightly touched his arm. ‘Let’s pretend this conversation never happened.’
He nodded.
‘Don’t ever put a proposition like that to me again,’ I said sternly. ‘I may desperately want a baby, but if it happens, it’ll be with someone who loves me and who’ll be around as a father and as a husband. It won’t be to keep up appearances.’
‘I’m sorry. I’ve really screwed things up, haven’t I? Not just today.’
I nodded. ‘Quite spectacularly as it happens. You’ll always hold a special place in my heart, so it hurts me to see you in this state. Look at the house. Look at yourself. Look at the crazy places your mind is taking you. You’re better than this. You said I look well, but don’t let a different hairstyle deceive you into thinking I’ve found it easy to walk away. I’m devastated that our marriage is over, but the last few weeks has given me the time and space to realise that the last couple of years together have been tough. Really tough. So, in some ways, I’m relieved it’s over. I’m equally devastated that we haven’t had the family that we planned to have, but I’m relieved about that too because it’s less complicated.’