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Well, banish the collywobbles, because I’m here to remind you that whatever your mind may be telling you, things are going to be okay. This rough time of Petra’s increased workload will pass, and life will go back to normal. Perhaps she hasn’t reminded you recently how lucky she is to have you – but WHOEVER you were with romantically, they would be the luckiest person on Earth. You are everything, and you need to remember that.
I blinked away tears. She was right – Petra should be the one to be telling me this. But in her absence, Gemma was probably the next best person. Somehow, without me noticing it, she’d become my closest confidante over the last month.
Did I say the right thing? she said, and I realised that I’d gone silent for the last few minutes.
The perfect thing. Thank you, I replied.
I’m serious, she said. Petra is the luckiest woman in the world, because she has you. I just wish I was that lucky.
Whoa. Hold on a second.
Was she flirting with me?
Now the pace of my heart skyrocketed. If it was possible to feel tension between two people over the Internet, this was what I was experiencing. I suddenly remembered Gemma hugging me, on the two occasions we’d met. The way I’d been the taller one for once, and the way she had nestled close, like a little limpet, but not for long enough to weigh me down. Something swirled in my abdomen – or slightly lower down – and I leapt out of my seat involuntarily.
It would be so easy to fall for Gemma. To start an emotional affair, without it ever being the least bit physical. To make that choice, and bathe myself in her love every day. My heart actually yearned for it, in a way that I hadn’t felt since falling for Petra.
You know – anyone would be far luckier to have you, I typed, intending to inject a flirtatious tone into my own words, but then froze before I could send it.
What would an affair do to us? Petra and I? We were married, and even if I suspected her of having an affair, having one myself would lower me to that level. The next step would be divorce, surely. Then feuding, and a slow descent until we ended up on some hideous airing-dirty-linen TV show.
This realisation was like a cold bucket of water to the fire that had started flickering inside of me. I had to put an end to this… fraternisation with my online friend. Quit while I was ahead, before I had any stronger thoughts of starting something with her. Quite frankly, I didn’t trust myself not to. Not after the way I’d acted after Lyndsey died, that utter breakdown that made me lose myself.
Thank you, Gemma, I typed back instead, then signed out of the chat room and closed the laptop. I almost wanted to burn it in case Petra ever saw the messages. She’d be hurt, undoubtedly, that I was seeking in another the comfort I’d always sought in her. I couldn’t allow that, and I certainly couldn’t allow anything else to happen.
Not when we’d sworn. For better, for worse. As long as we both shall live. This was simply one of the ‘worse’ times, but like Gemma said, we would get through it.
Forsaking all others. That was the crucial one today.
As long as we both did.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Petra came home that evening, positively bouncing. It was in her gait before she even said anything: a lightness. A floatiness that wasn’t just down to the chic summer dress she was wearing. Sourly, mired in a post-adrenaline crash, I wondered to myself whether Stella McBride had had anything to do with it. The floatiness or the dress choice.
“My to-do list is officially ticked off,” she announced, plopping her tote bag on the sofa next to me before sinking onto the other one. “I pushed and pushed and pushed, and I’m finally on top of things.” She smiled at me. “Are you proud of me?”
“Always,” I replied, affixing a smile to my face with some effort before returning to my laptop.
“So you know what that got me thinking? A free day tomorrow. A whole day off, with no work to be done whatsoever. You’re off tomorrow, right? Hang on… right?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Great! So… us, tomorrow morning… the car boot sale!”
I squinted at her, and she deflated a little.
“Okay… it’s not exactly the average location for a hot date. But the one at Thorney Hill starts tomorrow and it’s always good for finding knickknacks. They have an ice cream van and a burger van and a donut stand… and all manner of knickknacks! It’s shaping up to be a decent day weather-wise tomorrow, so I thought… unless you don’t want to, obviously…”
“No!” My voice sounded over-bright, and its pitch made Petra jump along with my sudden animation. “No, I’ll definitely come! I’ll take any chance of quality time with you. What time does it start?”
“Ten,” she said, and bit her lip. “What you just said… that makes me feel like the worst wife in the world. Like I’ve been neglecting you.”
“You have,” I said before I could stop myself, and she flinched. I froze. She looked genuinely hurt.
What I should have done was stayed quiet, and let her absorb what I just said. She needed to hear it, to hear how I was feeling, even if it did hurt. But, me being me, I rushed to rescue the situation.
“But I don’t blame you,” I said, going over and sitting next to her. “You’ve been rushed off your feet. And it’s only for a little while, isn’t it? It’s not so long until the summer holidays. Mid-July. That’s… what… seven weeks away? And then I’ll have you back. I can wait until then.”
