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The Wife – Part Three Page 5


  Sitting down on the edge of the bed I reach for my phone. I need to check where Michael is. He’s at home. Of course he’s at home, it’s six in the morning. And he’s made a call, to that number, to Ava. Late last night, he spoke to Ava. Because he realized I’d gone? Why didn’t he call me? Didn’t he care where I was? Didn’t he fucking miss me? And then I double check his tracker history. He went out last night, too. Just after he made that call, he went out, to that address in Chester-le-Street. He went to her. He came home an hour later. And he still didn’t care that I wasn’t there?

  Everything from anger to a crushing sadness fills my gut, tears streaming down my face, I want this to end, so badly it hurts. It kills me.

  ‘Put it down, Ellie.’

  I quickly wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, put the phone down on the bedside table. ‘He went out. Last night. He called her, and then he went out.’ I turn around, I look at Liam, another wave of sadness washing over me so fast I almost can’t breathe. ‘Why didn’t he call me? I’m his wife …’ I drop my head, let those tears fall again, I can’t stop them.

  ‘Hey, come on.’

  Liam tucks a finger under my chin, tilts my head up so I look at him. His eyes are kind, it’s almost like he’s forgotten how much of a crazy person I was last night. How desperate I’ve become. That’s why I need him, to pull me back. To keep me this side of sane.

  ‘Listen, Ellie, if Michael is having some kind of affair with this student, are you really going to forgive him?’

  ‘Would he forgive you, Liam, if he knew you were sleeping with me?’

  It’s a mess. It’s a god awful, complicated mess. Secrets and lies, betrayal and paranoia, they’re all part of our everyday lives, now. There’s no trust anymore. We’ve dug ourselves so deep into this pit of deceit we can’t see a way out. There’s so much we can’t come back from.

  I need to go home. I need to see Michael. I need to talk to him, and this time I’ll make him listen. We can’t go on like this, we can’t, it’s destroying everything around us. But Liam’s pulling me back, towards that beautiful bubble we’ve created. Is there time? I need to see Michael …

  He pushes me down onto my back, gently nudges my legs apart, his hand trailing up the side of my body as he pushes inside me, and I don’t fight it. I don’t want to fight it. It’s like a shot of calm, an injection of peace. When he’s inside me I can think straight. I become the woman I want to be instead of the woman I’ve become, so I’m never going to fight this. Instead I close my eyes, arch my back, let him take my hand and push my arm above my head, my fingers gripping his as we make love slowly. He’s flooding me with that calmness, it’s like everything’s running in slow motion, he’s giving me time to catch my breath. And I don’t even realize that I’m crying until I feel him kiss the tears away, feel his lips damp against my skin. He’s telling me it’s okay, everything’s going to be okay, but it isn’t. It can’t be, not when we’re surrounded by so many lies. So many secrets. So much betrayal. Nothing’s okay. Maybe it never was. The lies started so long ago. That perfect life I thought I’d lived with Michael, it wasn’t perfect at all. Not really. Even then I was lying to him.

  The sex is over now, but Liam’s hand still holds onto mine, and as I turn onto my side, as I face him, I remember those peaceful Saturday mornings when Michael and I would lie in bed like this in a post-sex bubble of happiness. I remember when he used to make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world; his special girl, that’s what he used to call me. Now I feel nothing but an emptiness that only Liam can fill. He makes me feel everything Michael doesn’t. And that breaks my heart, but if I give this man up I risk losing myself completely. I can’t afford to do that.

  ‘I should go, soon,’ I whisper, running my fingertips lightly over his jaw line, the roughness of his beard sending tiny shivers shooting up my spine.

  He takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing it gently, his eyes locking on mine. ‘I used to pray that you and Michael wouldn’t last.’

  His words don’t shock me as much as they should. Not after what he told me last night. Things he obviously meant. While I was asking him to smuggle me truth serums from his laboratory, he was telling me he loved me. That he’d always loved me. That he’d only married Keeley to distract himself from me.

  I’m not that special, Liam. I’m really not that special.

  ‘I’m not proud of it, but that’s how I felt. I wanted something to come between you, to split you up, tear you apart, but believe me, Ellie, what happened – I wouldn’t have wished that. Not that.’

  I smile weakly and lean in to kiss him, let him pull me back into his arms, I feel safe there. But I can’t stay here. I need to go.

  I pull away from him and slide out of bed. I start to get dressed and he doesn’t stop me. He knows the score. He can tell me he loves me a hundred times, it won’t change anything. I love Michael, Liam’s just my escape. My respite. My support. That’s all he can be. And he knows that.

  ‘Are you going to be all right?’ he asks as I reach for my phone and slip it into my pocket.

  ‘I’ll be fine.’ I try to give him a more convincing smile, let him know I’m really not that crazy. ‘Liam, really, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you.’

  ‘Ellie?’

  I turn around, wait for him to come to me. He looks concerned. Worried. He needn’t be, I’m okay now.

  ‘You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?’

  I frown. ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s just, last night you were talking truth drugs and …’

  ‘And you were telling me you loved me. You changed the game, Liam.’

  ‘This isn’t a game, Ellie.’

  I look at him, up into his grey eyes. ‘I know.’

  *

  He’s in the kitchen, when I get home, drinking tea and reading his newspaper like it’s just another ordinary day.

  He looks up from his paper, his expression almost impassive, although there’s a hint of a slightly puzzled frown there too.

  ‘You’ve been out early.’

  ‘I’ve been out all night, Michael.’

  He puts down his paper and takes off his reading glasses. ‘What do you mean, you’ve been out all night?’

  ‘You really didn’t know?’

  ‘Where the fuck have you been, Ellie?’

  No. No, he doesn’t get to sit there and lecture me. That isn’t happening. But at the same time, he can’t find out that I know he went out too. He’d ask questions, and I can’t have that; I’m not handing him an excuse to become suspicious of me. He can’t ever find out I’m tracking him, I need to know where he is at all times. I don’t have my proof yet.

  ‘Where were you, Michael? If you slept in our bed, how could you not know …?’

  ‘I slept in the spare room.’

  That throws me slightly, but it also explains how he could easily have missed the fact I wasn’t home last night. The way we are, the lengths he goes to in order to avoid being with me, he wouldn’t have bothered checking to see if I was in bed. He would’ve just assumed that I was.

  ‘Why?’ I whisper, because I’m scared now, that it’s come to this, that point where he doesn’t even want to share a bed with me. After coming home from seeing her? It’s like another piece of that already fragile world I’m trying desperately to hold onto is crumbling around me.

  ‘I went out, Ellie. Last night. I just – I needed some air, that’s all. I went out for a drink, a walk, to clear my head. And when I came back I assumed you’d already gone to bed and I didn’t want to disturb you, so, I slept in the spare room.’

  I stare down at my feet. He’s lying to me. I know where he went, and he’s lying. Again.

  I try not to let the mess of emotions swirling around inside of me take hold, but it’s hard. Almost too hard. And then I raise my head, I need to look at him now. ‘It’s happening again, isn’t it?’

  He frowns, but then his expression change
s, becomes colder. ‘No. Don’t do this, Ellie. Don’t go there.’

  ‘Where, Michael? Don’t go where? I mean, if you can’t see the signs …’

  He gets up, sending his chair toppling backwards. ‘What fucking signs, Ellie? Jesus, are we really going over this again?’

  ‘Where did you go, when you went out last night? Where did you go? Did you go to her?’

  He’s confused now, but there’s something there in his eyes, something he can’t hide.

  ‘To who? What the hell are you talking about?’

  ‘Did you go to her? To Ava …?’

  Lie to me now, Michael, come on. I’m waiting …

  ‘Ava? What’s going on here, Ellie? Because, right now, you’re making no fucking sense.’

  He’s pushing me. I didn’t want to mention her name, I didn’t want to do that, but he’s pushing me.

  ‘Did you learn nothing? After everything that happened? You let them get too close, Michael. You let them get too close, give them too many signals …’

  ‘Ava is a student, Ellie.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘How do you know anything about her?’

  ‘I don’t know anything about her. Apart from the fact you’re letting her get too close. And when they get too close …’

  He shakes his head. He thinks I’m being irrational, I can see it in his eyes. He’s going to make it sound like I’m imagining all kinds of shit that doesn’t exist, like my crazy, mixed-up, over-emotional mind is making me see things that aren’t there.

  ‘I don’t know how you even know about Ava – I don’t know how you know about any of my students, but whatever you think is going on, you’re imagining it. We’ve been here before, Ellie, it’s all in your fucking head. I didn’t encourage anyone, I didn’t lead anyone on. And nothing is happening again. Okay?’

  See? I knew he was going to do that. To think that. Because he assumes I’m nothing more than a messed-up wreck now. Too damaged. Too broken.

  ‘Ava is one of the students I’m mentoring. That’s all.’

  ‘That’s all she was too, Michael. The woman who kicked our baby out of me, the woman who killed our child. You were mentoring her, too.’

  His eyes are fixed on mine, and even though I’m sure I see a brief flicker of sadness in them, his expression is mostly one of pity. He’s constantly frustrated with me these days, but he just needs to know that I’m doing this to save us, he needs to realize that.

  ‘Do you understand how dangerous your behaviour is becoming, Ellie?’

  No, Michael, what you’re doing is dangerous, I’m just trying to keep us safe.

  ‘If you don’t let this go …’ He turns away from me, rakes a hand through his hair before he turns back to face me. ‘You need to let it go. Now. For all our sakes.’

  There’s something else in his expression now – fear? Panic?

  Are you nervous, Michael? Of what I might know? What I’ve already found out?

  ‘What exactly do you think is going on, Ellie?’

  ‘I don’t know, Michael.’

  He holds my stare for a second or two before he laughs quietly, he’s dismissing me as crazy again. ‘No, you don’t know.’

  ‘Then tell me.’

  ‘It’s none of your business.’ His eyes harden, he’s looking right into me, and I feel my stomach contract with a new type of fear. Something darker. Something I can’t explain. ‘None of your business.’

  He’s my husband. Everything he does is my business, but before I can tell him that he’s left the room. Left me alone.

  He goes upstairs, I hear him, just one flight this time. He hasn’t gone up to his office, yet.

  I stay rooted to the spot, I can’t move. The room feels like it’s spinning and I reach out to grasp the counter behind me, to steady myself. I can’t remember if I’ve eaten today. I can’t remember the last time I ate at all, I don’t have much of an appetite anymore. Eating isn’t high on my list of priorities, there are more important things to think about. But I need a drink, and I turn around and reach for the whisky on the counter. I fetch a glass from the cupboard, pour out a large measure and drink it down in one mouthful. The feeling of calm that spreads through me is instant, flooding my body and I close my eyes and breathe in deeply. Exhale slowly. I’m calm. I’m okay.

  ‘Ellie?’

  I open my eyes. Michael’s standing in the doorway. He seems calmer now too. His eyes don’t seem as cold.

  ‘I’m going to spend the weekend at a hotel.’

  I frown. I don’t understand … ‘A hotel?’

  ‘I fly to Cardiff on Sunday evening, so … I’ve booked myself into one of the hotels at the airport. I think we could both do with some space, don’t you?’

  How much more space does he need? He couldn’t be any further away and now he’s walking away, again. Like he always does. He walks away, he leaves me alone, and he still doesn’t get how much that hurts me.

  ‘We both need some time, Ellie. To think.’

  About what, Michael? About her? Ava? About how you’re going to leave me?

  ‘And when I get back …’

  He trails off, and slides his hands into his pockets. I feel sick, I feel like everything’s falling apart, like I’m losing him too quickly, and the room, it’s spinning again.

  He eyes meet mine, and I reach behind me for the counter, gripping it tight. If I let go I’ll fall, I know I will.

  ‘When I get back, if things haven’t changed – if you haven’t changed, Ellie, then I think it’s best if I move out. For a while.’

  I feel my knees give way beneath me, feel them weaken and I grip the counter tighter. I will the room to stop spinning.

  ‘I’ve done everything I can, to help you. I’ve tried, to help you …’

  Have you, Michael? Really?

  ‘I did my best to make this all go away, but you refuse to leave it alone. And this is the last time I’m going to tell you this, because I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting this, of fighting you …’

  ‘I’m not fighting, Michael.’

  ‘You are. You’re fighting against everything I told you … Everything I tell you.’ He looks away again, and I see his shoulders tense up, hear him sigh heavily. ‘Let it go, Ellie. Please. Because if you don’t … if you don’t …’

  He doesn’t need to finish that sentence, and I feel my stomach clench up, feel my heart start to beat so fast it hurts. He’s slipping away from me and I’m scared. I’m so fucking scared.

  I watch as he turns and walks away, and again I can’t move. It’s like I’m frozen; paralyzed. Have I just lost my husband? Have I given him, to her? Has he been using my behaviour as an excuse, to give himself a reason to leave me? A reason for him to feel better about leaving me for his teenage distraction?

  A wave of nausea rises up from my clenched stomach, so fast I only just manage to turn around in time to vomit into the sink.

  I hear his car start up, but I keep my head down. I hear him drive away and I feel a mixture of pain, anger and sadness sweep over me, so intense it’s suffocating. He’s left me alone, again. He left me alone that night, and he promised he would never do that again. He promised he would never leave me alone again.

  Sinking to the floor I sit back against the kitchen cabinets and look around the room. The silence is terrifying. This house, I’m growing to hate it, it’s just a reminder of everything we almost had.

  Everything we lost.

  I’ve lost enough …

  Chapter 8

  I sit at the kitchen table watching Liam as he makes breakfast. I had to call him. I didn’t want to be alone last night, the fear is becoming too much to bear. I can’t cope sometimes, when I’m alone here. Every creak, every random, harmless noise, they all remind me of that night. They all bring back memories, cause those images I’ve tried to push aside to surge forward again. They make me realize that what happened, it’s never going to go away. If I’m alone I can’t cope with that realization. If Liam’
s with me, I’m okay. I can manage.

  ‘Here. You need to eat something.’

  He places a plate of scrambled eggs down in front of me. ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘I don’t care. You’re losing weight, so you’re obviously not eating. And I’m not going to stand around and watch you make yourself ill.’

  Michael hasn’t noticed I’ve lost weight. Because Michael doesn’t notice anything anymore. He chooses to ignore instead. To bury his head in the sand. He chooses distractions.

  ‘I’ll eat when I’m hungry.’

  ‘Stop acting like a petulant child, Ellie, and just eat something. If not for yourself then do it for me.’

  I scoop up a forkful of egg and swallow them down, but I’m resisting the food so much it almost sticks in my throat. It takes a mouthful of tea to dislodge it.

  ‘I thought it might be nice to have a walk along the river this morning.’

  I look at him as he joins me at the table; as he sits back and drinks his tea. He’s made himself at home, but then, this place was always his second home anyway. He’s always been too close. ‘Okay.’

  He looks at the plate of eggs in front of me. ‘Eat some more, Ellie.’

  He’s talking to me like I’m a child, and I don’t want that from him. He’s supposed to make me feel like the woman I need to be, not some weak, pathetic person who needs to be looked after.

  I eat a little more of the scrambled egg before pushing the plate away. That was enough, I don’t need too much food. It upsets my stomach.

  ‘While we’re down by the river we could have some lunch. The weather’s looking okay, we could sit outside.’

  I pick up my plate and take it over to the sink.

  ‘Ellie? Did you hear what I said?’

  I turn around and stand with my back against the counter as he gets up and comes over to me. ‘Our first date was a walk, down by the river.’ I look up into his eyes. Am I pushing him away, too? ‘Mine and Michael’s. That was the night I knew I was in love with him.’