Tom stood in the doorway, his tall, solid body almost filling the frame. His dark hair was damp with the heat of the day, his shirt crumpled now after the journey home. He could tell that something was up the moment he saw me. I was sitting on the sofa, frozen. His eyes darted around the room, but I was the only thing that was out of place.
“Ruby?” He sounded concerned and despite everything my eyes prickled. “Is everything all right?”
My throat was tight and I could hardly speak, but eventually I said, “Yes. Everything’s fine.”
He came farther into the room and instinctively I shrank away from him. He glanced at me and I knew he’d noticed that. Not much gets past him.
“What are you doing, sitting here in the dark? Are you ill?”
I shook my head.
“Your mum and dad? Are they okay?”
“They’re fine,” I said. I hoped they were, anyway. I hadn’t spoken to them for a few days. All I’d been able to think about was this moment; it wasn’t exactly something I could share with them.
He walked slowly around the room, his eyes on me, then sat on the sofa opposite me. I couldn’t pretend everything was normal. At this time on a Friday night I’d always be in the kitchen, cooking dinner. Right now I should be chopping lemongrass, garlic, and chillies, not sitting in a darkening room with my jacket and shoes still on and my handbag dangling from my shoulder.
I screwed up my courage. “Tom.” My tongue felt thick and dry in my mouth. “This isn’t working for me.” I wasn’t looking at him—I couldn’t—but I could sense he’d turned to stare at me. There was a heavy silence that I just had to break. “I need to go.”
“Go? What do you mean?”
“I need to leave. To move out.”
He was silent but he didn’t look furious, the way I’d imagined he would when I’d had practice runs of this, night after night while he lay sprawled beside me in bed, deep in sleep. When he reached out to me, I had to stop myself flinching, though I knew he’d never touch me now.
“I thought something was wrong, sweetie,” he said. “You’ve not been the same lately.”
My throat swelled with tears, both at the endearment and because I hadn’t thought he’d noticed. He’d been nicer than usual recently. For more than a year. But once some things are said, they can’t be taken back and no amount of being nice will ever make them right.
“Where are you going to?” His voice was steady and calm, so unlike what I’d expected.
I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t planned to tell him anything more than the fact that I was going, but I could see now that that wasn’t going to work. And he knew I wouldn’t want to stay with my family; my mother in particular would be horrified. As for friends—well, there was no one I could have gone to and he knew that as well as I did.
“It’s okay,” I said eventually. “I’ve got something sorted.”
“What about your bags?”
“They’re in my car. I couldn’t take everything, obviously. Don’t throw anything away; I’ll be back to pick up the rest.”
He continued to stare at me and I felt myself shrivel under his gaze.
“And I’ll call Josh,” I said.
“You will not.” For the first time that evening his voice was harsh and unrelenting, and I shrank back. “I’ll tell him.”
I had to accept what he said. I didn’t know what he’d tell him. This was the second time Josh had had to deal with a separation; I only hoped that now that he was seventeen he’d be able to cope with it.
I stood up. I needed to leave. What was the etiquette when you left your husband? Did you kiss? Shake hands? Glare at each other? Shout, See you at the solicitor’s? My hand reached automatically for my bag still slung across my shoulders, and I took my car keys from it. On the key ring were my house keys.
I hesitated. Should I leave them behind? The house was in my name, too, though, of course. In fact, more of it was mine than his, but as we were married that wouldn’t make any difference. My aunt had died not long after I met Tom; she’d left my sister, Fiona, and me enough money to put a good deposit on a house. Tom and Belinda had just divorced and she’d kept the house. He was broke and wouldn’t have been able to buy on his own. There was no mortgage on our house now; we owned it together. I had a right to those keys. I’d have to speak to him later about what to do about selling it, but for now I just wanted to get out of there. So I kept hold of my keys, said nothing about returning them, and walked toward the door.
“Is that it?” Now he was angry and that all-familiar panic flared in my belly. “You’re just leaving without any explanation?”
For a second I considered telling him exactly why I was going, but I stopped myself in time. My keys squeezed so tightly in my hand they nearly broke the skin. “I’m sorry. We’ve talked about this so many times over the years. I just can’t do it anymore.”
I’d just reached the front door when I remembered. “Oh,” I said, taking off my Fitbit. The skin on my wrist looked tender and pale without it. “I won’t be needing this.” I put it on the hall table and noticed the green cover of my iPad sticking out of his briefcase. “And it was nice of you to buy me the iPad, but you use it more than I do, so you can keep it.”
I didn’t dare look at him as I left. He didn’t follow me out to my car, but as I walked down the driveway I knew he was staring at me. When I started the car and sneaked a glance back at the house, he’d gone.
CHAPTER 3
Ruby
I drove as quickly as I could until I was a mile away from home, then stopped the car in a quiet street. My heart was pounding so hard that I had to close my eyes and breathe deeply, counting my breaths, until I started to feel more calm. I was hot and red and my palms were sweating, but all I could feel was relief. It was as though a huge weight had lifted from my shoulders. I’d thought it would be worse than that. Much worse. I’d envisaged a row, with me pleading, him blocking my path, berating me. Then his pièce de résistance: he would cry. He knew how much I hated that.
He’s let me go, I thought. He must have been as unhappy as I was.
Suddenly my face was drenched with tears and I pulled some tissues out of my bag to scrub myself dry. I’d been prepared for this. All those nights I’d spent rehearsing today, and now that the performance was over, I was exhausted. My phone beeped and I leaped to check it. It was a message from Tom.
I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to upset you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. x