Page 43 of The Work Husband

‘Sam – how often? How many Sundays? When I was away at Hadleigh Hall? When I was seeing Mum? Other times, when you’ve said you were going to the gym or whatever?’

‘No other Sundays. But those two, yes. And other times during the week.’

His face changed now, hardened. Like he was bracing himself for something awful to happen. And it happened – I couldn’t help myself letting all my pent-up feeling out in one huge, horrible rush.

‘I can’t stand it any more!’ I exploded. ‘You sneaking around, seeing your ex, not telling me when you’re seeing her, talking to her and texting her. How the hell do you think that makes me feel, Sam? Do you even care how I feel? Or is it all about your precious Ava and how you can keep stringing me along until you’re ready to tell me you’re done with me and you want to be with her?’

‘I’m not hiding it,’ he said. ‘If you’d asked, I’d have told you when I saw her. Even though I knew you’d react like this.’

‘React like what?’ I asked furiously. ‘React like someone whose partner has been seeing his ex behind her back – or right under her nose, I don’t know which is worse.’

Even in that moment, I knew how irrational I sounded, but I didn’t care – and even if I had, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.

‘Georgia, listen to me.’ Sam took a step towards me, arms outstretched, but I didn’t take his hands. ‘I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for me too. But right now, Ava needs me. I can’t tell you why, but she does. She’s not my girlfriend any more, but she was for a long time. We loved each other then, and we still care for each other now. So I’ve been seeing her and talking to her. It doesn’t affect you and me – at least it shouldn’t.’

At least it wouldn’t if you weren’t behaving like a psycho bunny boiler. He didn’t say those words, but I heard them anyway, and they inflamed me even further.

‘Oh, great. So what do you want me to say? “Oh, Sam, your ex needs you. Off you trot and see her then, be with her, spend the night at her place. I’m fine with that because I’m such a cool girl.” Well, newsflash, I’m not such a cool girl. No one in my position would be.’

‘She’s just a friend,’ Sam said. ‘Georgia, come on. You know you’re not being reasonable.’

‘I don’t care if I’m being unreasonable!’ I almost yelled. ‘I don’t want to be reasonable if being reasonable means the person I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with is getting back together with his fucking ex-girlfriend.’

Now, Sam’s face hardened. For the first time, he didn’t look conciliatory, or guilty, or sad. He looked angry.

‘The way you’re being right now,’ he said, ‘doesn’t feel like you want to spend the next five minutes with me, never mind the rest of your life.’

Part of me knew I was handling this badly – knew I was taking a bad situation and making it a whole lot worse. But I was too wounded and furious to care.

‘The way I’m feeling now, I don’t,’ I spat. ‘How can I want to be with someone who’d rather be with someone else? I’m not your ball and chain. If I’m not making you happy, go. Go and spend the rest of your life with your precious Ava.’

Sam shook his head as if he’d run out of words. I was standing in the doorway, but he didn’t push me aside – instead, he opened the door wider and simply walked past me through the space he’d created. I heard him pick up his keys from the table in the hallway where they lived in the little copper dish next to my own keys.

Then he said, ‘I’m going, Georgia. You’re right, I don’t want to be with you when you’re being like this. But I’m not going to Ava’s, so don’t go off on one about that. I’ll go to Jared’s place. Okay?’

‘Fine.’ The anger began to drain out of me, horrible sadness and fear flooding in to fill the space it had left. ‘Go. You’ll do what you want anyway – it doesn’t matter how I feel.’

I heard the front door open and then close again. I waited, breathless and immobile, until I realised he wasn’t coming back. Not tonight and perhaps not ever. Although I was still boiling with hurt and anger, I already hated myself for the things I’d said to him. I felt, with a horrible sense of finality, that I’d crossed a line, pushed it too far, taken a step I could never untake.

But what else could I have done? If he wanted to be with Ava, not me, I wasn’t going to humiliate myself and beg him to stay. If it was over between us, surely that was better than not knowing, being strung along, being made a fool of?

Except it didn’t feel better. It felt worse than anything.

I ran to the bedroom, threw myself down on our bed and wept.

TWENTY-ONE

It didn’t take me long to regret my outburst. Before I’d even stopped sobbing with hurt and anger, I was flooded with remorse – and that made me start crying all over again. I’d been horrible. I’d hurt Sam, let myself down, done damage I feared might be irreparable to the relationship I treasured.

Worst of all, I could see that I was playing out a scene that was all too familiar to me: the accusations, the rage, the storm of tears.

It was what I’d witnessed growing up, as my parents’ marriage exploded at regular intervals from cold war to outright nuclear, before ultimately disintegrating.

It was a pattern I’d always vowed I would never repeat in my own life, and yet here I was doing just that.

When eventually I picked myself up off the bed, all the tears wrung out of me, I made a beeline for my phone. But there was no text from Sam.

I couldn’t blame him. I wouldn’t have texted me either.