I feel hot and cold at the same time. If I had something in my hand, I’d throw it at him. I hate feeling like this, hate feeling like I’m out of control. ‘I need to get away.’
Rich takes a tentative step forward. ‘Yes, this trip to Paris is exactly what we need. I was thinking—’
‘You must be fucking joking!’ I explode, the last remnants of self-control gone. ‘I’m not going to Paris. If you think you can fix this with café au lait and crêpes, you’re out of your mind.’
‘We can fix this by talking. It’s what we do, isn’t it?’
‘Infidelity is a red line, Rich. You knew that, but it didn’t stop you.’
He takes another step towards me. ‘I can’t lose you.’
He looks hurt, likehe’sthe injured party. Un-fucking-believable. ‘You should have thought of that before you cheated.’
‘It was only once. I was drunk and it was a stupid, thoughtless mistake.’
I let out a bitter laugh. ‘Oh, if it was onlyonceand if you weredrunkthen that changes everything. Why didn’t you say?’
He holds my eye. ‘Are you telling me you’ve never hurt someone by making a stupid, thoughtless mistake?’
The room goes still. ‘You don’t get to go there.’
‘I’m not. I’m just saying it was a moment of weakness and I’ve regretted it ever since.’
I try to find evidence from his recent behaviour, but I come up empty. He slept with another woman, and just carried on like nothing had happened. Do I know this man at all?
‘Were you planning on ever telling me?’
His shiftiness grows. He’s not meeting my eye, and he’s fiddling with the strap on his watch. ‘I didn’t see the point.’
I smile humourlessly. ‘You didn’t see the point in being honest?’
‘If I regret it, and know it will never happen again, it’s kinder, isn’t it?’
‘Kinder?’
He says it so calmly, so coolly, I shiver. If he can keep this from me, what else has he been hiding?
‘Is that what you tell patients? Sleeping around is fine as long as you’re considerate enough to keep it secret?’
For a surreal moment, he becomes a stranger. I don’t recognise his face, not the blue-grey eyes or the cleft in his chin. The man in front of me isn’t someone I’ve been living with for five years whose features were as recognisable as my own. It’s like I’m seeing him for the first time.
I shiver again.
‘Maybe you wanted me to see those texts so you wouldn’t have to tell me yourself.’
‘No, of course not. What do you take me for?’
‘Do you really want me to answer that?’
‘I love you, Nella.’
‘How can I believe anything you say?’
Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a small black box. Nestling on the red velvet inside is a square-cut diamond engagement ring.
‘It was my grandmother’s. It’s where I was earlier – collecting it after getting it resized.’
For long moments, I can’t speak. And for a dizzying second, I think I’m going to throw up.
