Page 13 of You Were Always the One

I remember what he said, once, in our early days. You’re the love of my life, Holls.

If I’d known then what I know now… Because he was mine, too – I know that now. I thought I was lucky the first time around. But to have found him again, there has to be something in that. Doesn’t there?

Life with Riggs was exciting and unpredictable. We didn’t plan, just seized the opportunities that came our way; went with the flow, his energy drawing people to him. I loved that about him; I loved him passionately, but it was true, what I said. I wanted us to grow up. I also wanted us to stay the same. In short, I wanted to have it all… But it wasn’t possible.

After we broke up, when Riggs made no attempt to get in touch, I had to accept it was over between us. As I found my way alone, I missed him, painfully, desperately. Viscerally. Probably for a year or more – that’s how bad it was. Then I started my nursing training, convinced I was doing what was right for me, and slowly I started to move on.

Without Riggs’s free spirit carrying me in different directions, my life started to take on shape. After qualifying, I specialised in cancer care. Went out with a couple of guys with expensive cars and regular jobs, internally laughing at myself because they were so utterly different to Riggs.

I found myself playing a part. But in a way, you had to do that, I was working out. Or that’s how it used to seem. If you wanted a serious job, you had to be a serious person. After three years of free-spirited shenanigans with Riggs, I was ready for serious in my life.

It was while I was training that I met Miles at a wedding. Good-looking and charming, he was what I thought I wanted. In what was the most un-flirtatious courtship, it was like I was being interviewed for a job. Flattered that I ticked his boxes, I knew I’d found my sensible, predictable, serious person. We would make a lovely home together; a safe place to bring up the children we hoped for. All I saw was the opportunities I’d never had before. Until I walked up the aisle, it didn’t cross my mind what I was closing the door on.

I take myself back to that moment. Standing next to Miles in my designer dress, my hair tamed in some elegant updo, I was aware of all our guests as I faltered for the first time. It’s a moment I remember vividly that should have been bursting with love and hopes and dreams. But I remember it now because of the fear I felt. Fear of what I was committing to. That this serious man whose ostentatious ring I wore, this was it. For the rest of my life.

It’s what you want, Holly, I’d reminded myself. This is how it is, being a grown-up.

A sigh comes from deep inside me. Over the years, I’ve taken on the expectations of other people. Now, I want to peel them away. But I’ve changed; Miles, too. Is he happy? When I don’t have any idea if he is or not, it’s yet another reason for us to be honest with each other.

I have the strangest feeling that weekend, as though I’m going through the motions, watching myself from somewhere else being a mother and wife, juggling the demands of my family with my work as a palliative care nurse; at the back of my mind still wondering: Is Miles seeing someone?

On Saturday, just before lunch, he picks up his car keys.

‘I didn’t know you were going out,’ I say.

‘Is it a problem?’ He looks evasive.

‘No. I’m just surprised, that’s all. You work so hard, Miles. Don’t you think it would be good for you to have a quiet weekend? I thought maybe we could go for a walk with the kids this afternoon.’

‘It sounds nice.’ He comes over to me. ‘Look, I have one or two things I need to do,’ he says. ‘I won’t be late.’

But I can’t let it go. ‘Where are you going?’

He freezes. ‘There’s something I have to do.’

Anxiety washes over me. ‘Why can’t you tell me what it is?’

For a moment, he doesn’t speak. Then before he can answer my question, Grace comes in. ‘Can we have lunch, Mum? I’m hungry.’

Seizing his chance to escape, Miles kisses me on the cheek. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘Where are you going, Daddy?’ Grace asks.

‘I’m just popping out.’ It’s as though he can’t get away quickly enough.

Unbothered, Grace goes to the fridge, while I stand there, immobilised by fear flooding through me. Fear that Miles and I are back where we were two years ago. That everything we’ve tried to repair is at risk again. But if Miles wants to spend his Saturday somewhere else, there’s nothing I can do about it.

For the rest of the day, unease hangs over me. Were our weekends always this way? Devoid of connection? Separate? Unable to answer, I hide my unsettledness as I take Grace to her friend’s house for a sleepover, then later that afternoon, drop Max at another friend’s for the evening, before heading back home again, alone.

Inside the house, it’s an unwanted taste of how the future will be, I can’t help thinking, once my children have grown up. When it’s just me and Miles, rattling around in our lovely home barely speaking to each other – if Miles and I are still together.

Going to the fridge, I pour myself a glass of wine. Then, settling onto the sofa so that I can look out onto the garden, I ask myself the million-dollar question. Is it enough?

The answer is obvious. It isn’t. But the thing is, in so many ways, I know how lucky I am. My children mean the world to me. We have our lovely home. Miles has a well-paid job. I have my less well-paid job, but it’s a job I love.

I wonder how many other women have found themselves where I am, with so much to be grateful for, yet in a marriage that feels like a trap. My wine goes untouched as I think about calling Rita. But as I pick up my phone, it pings with a message.

Can we meet?