‘Yes.’ His hangdog expression was doing nothing to warm Netta’s. ‘I love you so much. I know I screwed up and I’m so sorry.’
Netta squinted her still-sleepy eyes at him. ‘So, you’re asking me to marry you because you messed up and I caught you out?’
‘No. I’ve had the ring for ages. There just hasn’t been the right time. I’ve been so busy with work and everything—’
‘And sexting with Tracey.’
Pete looked at her, unblinking, and snapped the ring box closed.
‘I think maybe it’sstillnot the right time to ask you to marry me.’ He lowered his gaze sheepishly. ‘I know you’re pissed off. And so you should be. You deserve better from me and I’ll give it to you, Netta, I promise.’
She scooted away from him and scrunched the doona to her chest. ‘If I hadn’t seen that message, how long would it have gone on? And how far would it have gone?’ she said. ‘Do you have any idea how stupid I feel?’
‘You’re not stupid, Netta. I am.’ He at least had the decency to look her in the eye for the admission. ‘You’re wonderful. I don’t know what I was thinking.’
‘Clearly I’m not wonderful enough, Pete.’ She gestured from him to her and back again. ‘Clearly,wearen’t enough for you. Because if we were, I don’t see why you’d need a Tracey.’
Pete shook his head. ‘That’s not true. You’re more than enough.’
Netta held his gaze and her tongue, for just long enough to make the biggest decision she’d made for a long time. ‘The thing is, Pete,’ she started, ‘you’ve made it pretty clear we want different things.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying that if I think about what I want my life to look like in ten years’ time, it’s not this. It’s not me wondering if I should be checking your phone every time it beeps. It’s not me freaking out every time you’re late home, imagining you having sex with someone else. It’s definitely not me feeling sad that we never had a baby because you changed your mind. Or if wedidhave one, it’s not me being made to feel like I trapped you with it.’
‘Netta, what is this?’ Pete’s eyes flared. ‘Are you breaking up with me?’
Netta twisted her fingers into knots, unable to grasp the words she needed. She cast her gaze down to the blanket covering her lap and nodded.
‘Because you found a text message on my phone?’ His voice was sharper, its edges slicing through the tension.
‘Text messages,’ Netta corrected, looking up to him. ‘Plural.’
Pete huffed out a frustrated breath. ‘I know I messed up, but nothingactuallyhappened. There’s no real reason to throw us away.’
‘Seriously?’
Pete held her gaze. ‘Nothing happened.’
Netta couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Those text messages were a long way from nothing in her books. ‘Come on, Pete, whether you touched her or not, none of it is okay. It’s still cheating.’
Pete released a quiet scoff. ‘Calling it cheating seems a bit much.’
‘I’m not going to get into semantics with you, Pete,’ said Netta. ‘It’s a question of integrity. Of commitment! Of honesty! You’re clearly not happy. And to be honest, I’d rather be alone than with someone who isn’t all in.’
‘Be reasonable, Netta! Life isn’t a romance novel.’ He said it like it was exhausting to explain. Like she was a child. ‘Life is, well—it’s life! It’s messy and boring and stressful and then, occasionally, some good stuff happens to balance out the shit. That’s just the way it is. I made a mistake. I regret it, but that’s life. I’m not perfect. Nothing is.’
‘That’s so depressing!’ Netta allowed herself to admit the full extent of what a sad old prick Pete could be. The way he constantly put a limit on fun. The way he boxed her up whenever the kids were around. The way he’d expected her to merge herself into his life while only ever making a token effort to become a part of her world, to get to know her friends, to take a proper interest in her career. ‘And before you say it,’ she continued, ‘I’m not a kid. I know nothing’s perfect. And I know life can be all of those things. But it can also be beautiful and funny and surprising in a good way.’ She paused to draw breath. ‘I can’t trust you anymore.’
‘Right.’ He slammed the ring box onto his bedside table. ‘I guess it’s pretty lucky you didn’t get pregnant then, isn’t it?’
‘I guess so.’
A black hole of silence formed between them, sucking the air out of Netta, scooping up nearly three years’ worth of love and hope and promise and compacting it all into this devastating sledgehammer of a moment.
‘Right. Well, I guess this is it then. Goodbye, Netta.’ He stood and thundered out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
The polite rumble of the Camry’s engine signalled his departure, leaving a void inside Netta’s chest. She felt hollowed out, brittle and huskish. Shaken like a rattle. She checked the time. It was still only seven o’clock.
