‘This is nice,’ he said. ‘Sometimes I love living alone but sometimes I go back to an empty house and it feels so lonely.’
‘Have you dated? Since your divorce?’
‘No. I was holding out until I met the right person – it’s soul-destroying being with the wrong person.’
‘Was holding out?’
‘We can find happiness in the most unexpected of places, Anna. It’s a question of being brave enough to let it in.’
I downed my wine. The warm bloom of alcohol loosened my tongue. ‘I want to be happy but I’m not brave enough.’
‘I think you’re stronger than you think.’ Ross placed his hand my knee.
Was I?
It would take courage to leave. Courage to stay.
Thinking of Adam, I stood. I was lost, lonely, desperately unhappy, but lying to my husband was a new low.
‘I should go.’ I meant it this time.
‘Can I drop you home?’ he asked.
‘Please.’ I directed him, not to my house but to the neighbouring street, asking myself why, if it were nothing more than a friendly drink, I didn’t let Ross drop me home. But I knew why.
As I unclipped my seatbelt, he leaned across and cupped my face in his hands.
‘Anna.’
He kissed me.
And I let him.
Adam was sprawled on the sofa, ‘How was it?’
‘What?’
‘The staff meeting?’
‘Oh, that.’ I was caught in my web of deceit. Unsure what to say but he had turned his attention back to the TV. I curled up on the armchair, watching my phone screen illuminate as Ross texted me over and over.
I’m sorry.
I’m not sorry.
I shouldn’t have kissed you.
I had to kiss you.
I want you.
I think I’m falling in love with you.
Do you want me?
It was the last one that threw me into a tailspin. Did I want him? Or was it that I didn’t want this – my eyes flickered to Adam. He was fixated on the screen.
My mind strayed to Ross. His hands. His laugh. His lips. He wasn’t my boy from the bar. He would be different.
But it might be better.
In the kitchen, while I waited for the kettle to boil, I splashed cold water onto my face, which was burning with the shame of my illicit kiss. The fact that I had wanted it. The fact that I had enjoyed it, entwining my fingers in his hair as I returned his kiss.
Back in the lounge, Adam held out my phone. ‘You got a text.’
I snatched it from him, studying his face for signs he had read it, shoving my handset into my pocket like a dirty secret I was trying to hide.
Do you want me? Ross had asked.
Later, in bed, I was still examining the questions from all angles when Adam reached across to me. My entire body immediately tensed.
He pressed his lips against mine but all I felt was Ross’s lips. His hands caressed my back but all I felt were Ross’s hands.
‘I’m not in the mood, sorry.’ I gently pushed Adam away. He muttered under his breath. I couldn’t make out his words but I probably deserved them. The truth was I didn’t want Adam unless I knew I was ovulating and even then it lacked any passion. Sex now a task to be checked off from a never-ending list of mundane things to do.
Empty the dishwasher – tick.
Try to make a baby – tick.
Was it wrong to yearn for something exciting?
Someone who excited me?
I thought about everything until Adam fell asleep and then I reached for my mobile.
Do you want me? Ross had asked.
I gave him my answer.
Chapter Nineteen
Adam
Dawn was pushing the darkness aside when my phone vibrated under my pillow. I hadn’t risked the alarm, not wanting to wake Anna. Not wanting her to know. Not yet. I watched her sleep, her face unguarded.
My certainty of the previous night dipped and swelled. I was changing my mind about four million times a minute.
Could I do it?
Should I?
Anna and I had been so unhappy for so long, in some ways it seemed like the right thing to do but… I wasn’t sure. It was early but her mobile lit up with a text. I looked at the screen and then I knew for sure.
I crept around the house, shoving things into an old rucksack, praying she didn’t wake. When I had everything I needed, I took one, last lingering look at my wife. I contemplated kissing her goodbye but instead I slipped out of the front door, closing it silently behind me.
Chapter Twenty
Anna
The bed was cold and empty when I woke. The house too still. Too quiet. I wondered where Adam was. I tried to remember whether he’d mentioned going out but we’d barely spoken last night.
I reached for my phone. There was a text from Ross. It said, If you ever change your mind… I felt a momentary pang of regret but turning him down was the right thing to do. He wasn’t the answer. I didn’t know what the answer was.
Saturday stretched before me long and languid. It was ridiculous that during the week my alarm startled me from sleep, but at weekends I was always awake impossibly early. I got up. Once we would have relished a lie-in, fingers greasy from buttered toast, tongues hot from coffee and later with kisses. We assumed our selfish time was precious, short. Convinced that before long we would have a Moses basket nestled at the foot of the bed. A toddler to take to the park. Weekends would be spent feeding ducks, riding bikes, cutting men from gingerbread before pressing Smartie buttons into the dough. Bath-time. Bedtime. It would all centre around them, the children we hadn’t yet been able to bring into the world.
By ten I had showered, dressed, changed the sheets and cleaned out Hammie’s cage while he hared around in his plastic wheel. There was still no word from Adam. I had an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. I lit a vanilla candle before I retrieved the bills we had stuffed down the side of the microwave. I might as well do something useful with my time before he came home. The house felt different without him here. For a moment I pretended he was never coming back.
You should leave. That would make me happy, I had said Thursday night, but would it? I didn’t feel the same about Adam when I looked at him anymore but had my shame, my guilt, clouded my vision? We never used to bicker like we did now. Would we be happier apart? Would Adam? Should I set him free? Set both of us free? It was hard not to cling to the familiar. The comfortable. I still remembered crying in my old cat Pugwash’s fur, reluctant to let him go despite knowing it would be best for him. Wanting him to be pain-free but unable to contemplate a life without him.
I opened the kitchen drawer to fetch our banking folder. Instead of being under the clean tea towels I had placed there yesterday morning, it was on top of them.
Unease squirmed in my belly as I scanned the contents. Our savings account book was missing. A chill swept through me. Adam must have taken it, but why?
He’s leaving you.
The thought popped into my head.
I reached for my phone and called him. His photo smiled up at me from my screen. There would be an innocent explanation. Adam wouldn’t use the money we had been saving for our family.
He wouldn’t just take it.
My palm was clammy by the time his answer service kicked in.
He had rejected my call.
By lunchtime Adam still wasn’t home. I had rung him incessantly. I was driving myself crazy with theories because the fact was too painful to face. Adam had taken our savings book without discussing it with me.