Page 50

‘You left, Jack,’ she said, and though her expression was smooth, there was a wobble in her voice.

‘After you told me to! After you announced you were bloody cheating on me! What the hell did you expect me to do?’

‘But you left immediately. I told you I’d slept with someone; you didn’t even ask their name.’ The wobble was stronger now. ‘You just walked out.’

He stared at her. ‘What did you want me to do?’

‘I wanted you to talk to me! I wanted you to fight, for me or with me, just a little.’ She blinked furiously, and looked away, down to the tiles, and then to the near-empty beer bottle in her hand.

‘You were cheating on me,’ he repeated, his voice frostier now. Because seriously, what was she doing, trying to put this on him?

‘Was. I slept with someone three times. It was a mistake. But it wasn’t ongoing.’

‘So you said,’ Jack muttered, taking a deep swig of his beer. ‘I don’t know what you want me to say here, Vanessa. You cheated. Then you asked for a divorce. What did you expect to happen?’

‘I only asked for one because you’d walked away so easily.’ She pressed her lips together, lifted her gaze to his. ‘Because it was like . . . It was like you’d been looking for a reason to end it. It doesn’t excuse what I did,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m not saying that. But I . . .’

‘Why did you do it?’ he asked quietly. He hadn’t asked before – hadn’t wanted to know the answer.

‘I was lonely,’ she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

‘You had me!’

‘Did I?’

He let out a low whistle. ‘That’s harsh.’

‘I know.’ She let her breath out on a whoosh. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘So you’ve said.’ He put his beer bottle down on the counter next to him. ‘Well, it’s done now.’ He pushed away from the counter, not sure he wanted to be here, hashing it out when it didn’t matter anymore. But he couldn’t help hesitating, couldn’t help looking at her again. His friend, who had grown into something more, who had become his wife. It felt like so long ago, when they used to sit up talking about everything and nothing, lamenting all the bad dates they’d been on, the bad sex they were having. Until one day, she’d looked at him with those baby blues and cocked her head. ‘Do you think maybe we should have sex? You know, just to try it?’ And they’d just fallen into a relationship, as easily as they’d fallen into being friends. Where, along the line, had that gone wrong?

‘I wasn’t looking for an excuse to end it,’ he said. For a moment, though, he allowed himself to consider the possibility. He wouldn’t have ended it, not without a reason – you didn’t end things just because they weren’t perfect. And he certainly wouldn’t have risked the instability, just for the sake of it. But would he have wanted to end it? Had he really seen himself living the rest of his life with her, or had momentum carried him through? He’d never really thought about it – would never have asked himself that question. Even now, he wasn’t sure he knew the answer to it. He’d agreed to a divorce without much of a fight, yes: if she wanted one, then he wasn’t going to stand in her way. He didn’t want to be married to someone who didn’t want to be married to him. It had felt like the right option. It had felt like the only option.

‘I kept thinking of how I pushed you into it,’ Vanessa said. ‘Getting married, I mean. After a while, I started to wonder whether that was the only reason you went along with it.’

He frowned. ‘I asked you to marry me.’

‘Because I dropped the hints.’

He nearly smiled. ‘Yeah. But I wanted to marry you, Ness. I wouldn’t have asked you if I hadn’t. Surely you know that.’

She nodded firmly. ‘I do. And I wouldn’t have said yes if I hadn’t believed you did – I have too much self-respect for that.’

‘Then . . .’

‘You were always so level,’ she said, with a huff of what might have been a laugh. ‘So difficult to rile. I loved that. But then I got thinking – maybe you were so level with me because you weren’t really . . . in it. Because you didn’t really care. So I lashed out. It was wrong,’ she said sadly. ‘I should have just asked you.’

They looked at each other for a long moment.

‘Are you still sleeping with him?’ Jack asked.

‘No. No, I’m not sleeping with him – as I said, it was over by the time I told you.’

He hesitated. ‘Are you sleeping with anyone else?’ She didn’t answer right away and he winced. ‘Scratch that. I don’t want to know, and it’s not my business anyway.’

She laughed then – not her usual, bright laugh but a laugh nonetheless. She pushed away from her side of the kitchen, met him in the middle. ‘Forgive me if I’m a little bit glad, seeing you squirm like that.’

‘Jesus, Ness.’