Before long, we’re getting into his car and driving down the same road I nearly stepped into minutes earlier. I’m not sure where we’re going. I don’t really care. But I am a bit surprised when we park outside the twenty-four-hour supermarket.
“I just need to pick up some bits before we go home. Do you want to come in?”
I shake my head and lean it against the cool window.
“Okay. I won’t be long. Will you still be here when I get back or do I have to lock you in?”
“I’ll be here.”Unfortunately.
Rhys leans over to kiss my cheek, then leaves me alone. I see him jog across the car park and grab a trolley, then he disappears through the automatic doors of the supermarket.
For fifteen minutes, I sit in the front seat of the car I’ve sat in so many times before. And, as I’ve done many times before, I weep. I weep with self-loathing. I weep with shame. And I weep for the opportunity to make things right that was taken away from me. Who knows when I’ll have the courage to try again?
When Rhys returns to the car, he loads the back seat with bags and climbs back into the driver’s seat. He strokes my cheek with his finger, wiping away a tear. This is the Rhys from the beginning of our relationship. It’s good to have him back.
“How are you feeling?”
“Sad.” Such a small word for everything going around in my head, but the thought of having to talk it through is too much to take.
“I know, Muffin. Let’s get you home.”
“Whose?” In a moment of clarity, I realise I don’t have a place to call home. There’s Rhys’s home and there’s Connor’s, but I don’t belong in either of them.
“Ours,” he whispers. “Come home tonight. Let me look after you, then we can talk in the morning when you’ve had some sleep.”
“Okay.”
I don’t see much option, other than ask him to take me back to Connor’s, but I don’t want to be a burden on someone else tonight. What’s the harm in staying at Rhys’s for one night?
Rhys drives us back to what used to be our house in silence, occasionally reaching over the gear stick to put his hand on my thigh. When we arrive, he helps me out of the car, grabs the shopping and takes me inside.
I thought coming back here would feel like coming home, but I feel like a stranger in someone else’s house. Nothing has changed at all, the furniture, ornaments and pictures are all in their place, but it feels different somehow.Ifeel different. I follow Rhys to the living room, where he puts the bags down on the couch and rummages through them, looking for something.
“Here,” he says, holding out two of the bags to me. “These are yours.”
I don’t bother looking inside the bags. I’m too tired. “What are they?”
“Pyjamas, dressing gown, slippers, and a change of clothes for tomorrow. I didn’t think you’d be comfortable in that dress much longer.”
“That’s really thoughtful.” And just like that I’m crying again. “I’m so sorry you’re having to do this. I’ve ruined your night! I’m such a stupid, selfish…”
“Mat, you haven’t ruined anything! I didn’t even want to go out tonight, but the lads practically forced me out of the doorsaying I’d been moping for long enough. And don’t take this the wrong way, because the circumstances of us bumping into each other are pretty shit, but I’m so happy to have you back here. This place hasn’t been the same without you.Ihaven’t been the same.”
Rhys envelops me in his arms again and lets me cry until the tears run dry. When I’ve stopped, I start to pull away from him, and he looks down at me with so much love in his eyes.
“How about you go upstairs and have a shower? No offence, but your mascara’s run so much you look like Alice Cooper.”
I huff a small laugh at the comparison.
“There’s all sorts of girly shit in those bags for you to freshen up. I’ll meet you in the bedroom with some tea and toast in twenty?”
I look into Rhys’s piercing blue eyes as I speak and feel myself start to relax just a little. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, cradling my face in his hands. “You’re my wife, I’d do anything to make you feel better.”
Rhys starts to lean in, presumably to kiss me. But do I want that? As much as I’ve realised tonight that part of me still loves Rhys, I haven’t yet forgiven him for what he did. Kissing him would send mixed signals. Then again, coming home with him might have done that already. Shit, I’m fucking things up again!
Pretending I don’t realise what he’s doing, I turn and start towards the stairs.
