The Wife

by ML Roberts

  ‘It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Since we came here.’

  I look at Michael as he quickly scans the menu outside. But I don’t say anything.

  ‘Shall we go in?’

  I nod and follow him into the restaurant. We’re seated at a table by the window, which is nice, I like to people-watch sometimes. I like to imagine what’s going on in the lives of others, it’s another way of escaping my own.

  We order drinks, tapas, bread and olives, and I look at my husband across the table as a hundred memories of previous visits here flood my brain. Happy memories. They’re all tainted now.

  ‘I’m not having an affair, Ellie.’

  Liar.

  ‘I didn’t say you were.’

  ‘You implied it.’

  ‘Then I’m sorry.’ I’m not.

  He narrows his eyes as he looks at me. And I suddenly realize I haven’t checked the tracker all morning. I knew he was flying home today, and yet, I didn’t check to see where he really went after he landed at Newcastle airport. Did he go home? Did he go to the university? Call the spa? I need to check now. Before he starts talking.

  ‘I won’t be a minute,’ I say, pushing my chair back and making my way to the toilets.

  Once inside I lock myself in a cubicle and pull out my phone. I log onto the app, check his movements from the second he arrived back at the airport. He did go home. He did go to the university. He called the spa. Everything he told me he did, that was true. Has he seen her? If she wasn’t with him, in Cardiff, has he seen her since he got back? She’s one of his students, he could have seen her at work. He certainly hasn’t called her today. She hasn’t called him. Yet. I really need to be more vigilant. I’ve been spending too much time with Liam lately, I’m forgetting to check things as often as I should.

  I go back into the restaurant, but I wait a second before I head back to our table. I’m watching Michael as he chats to one of the waitresses, a pretty red-head who can’t be much older than eighteen or nineteen. She could be another one of his students, a lot of them work jobs like this. He could know her, or he could just be using his charm to flirt, he can’t seem to stop himself from doing that. He certainly has her transfixed as he speaks, as he smiles at her. She laughs at something he says, and I feel sick, my stomach once more twisting itself up into a tight and painful knot.

  Do you not see what you do, Michael? How you encourage them to come to you? Can you not see how dangerous that is?

  I wait until she’s finished placing our food and drinks down on the table and finally leaves before I make my way back to Michael.

  He looks up as I sit down, and I reach for my glass of wine, taking a long sip.

  ‘Is everything okay, Ellie?’

  I look at him. And I feel sad and confused. I feel angry, that we’ve let ourselves become these people. ‘Everything’s fine. What did you want to talk about?’

  He averts his gaze, starts fiddling with the napkin next to his plate. ‘I think I should move out. Just for a while. I really think it’s for the best.’

  I don’t know what to say. How to feel. Give him space, Liam said, and he’ll come to me. But he isn’t, is he? He isn’t coming to me, he’s leaving me.

  ‘Do you? Think it’s for the best? You think that’s going to solve all our problems, you, walking away from them?’

  ‘I’m not walking away from anything, Ellie …’

  ‘You are.’

  ‘I’m not walking away. I’m giving us some space.’

  ‘You’ve just had space, Michael.’

  ‘I’ve had a couple of days. It isn’t enough.’

  His words floor me. They’re like a knife to my heart, the hardest punch to my stomach. They hurt.

  I keep my eyes on him, he isn’t going to think I’m weak, I’m not letting that happen. I’m not weak, and I’m not losing this fight. I know he’s still lying to me; telling me to my face that he isn’t having an affair, that’s just a smokescreen. He thinks by telling me that I’ll believe him, I’ll take his word. No. I’m not doing that. I can’t stop him from leaving, if that’s what he wants to do, but I will make sure I know where he is at all times. He isn’t going to get away with this dangerous game he’s playing. And she isn’t going to win.

  ‘Then go. If that’s what you want.’

  He frowns. What did he expect here? Did he think I’d break down in a wailing heap and beg him to stay? I want him to stay. I’m not begging him. But I am going to confront him, with the truth. When I finally get it. I’ll make him realize the mistake he made; the mistake she’s making. And mistakes have to be paid for.

  ‘I really do think it’s for the best, Ellie. I don’t think either of us has really had time to deal with what happened, not properly. I’m not sure we’ve let the enormity of it all sink in, not yet, and I don’t want it to pull us apart, I really don’t – but I feel like that’s what it’s doing.’

  ‘What I’m doing?’

  ‘I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my mouth. What we went through, it was incredibly difficult, we faced something no couple should ever have to face, but instead of time healing, I think it’s only made things worse.’

  No, Michael, you’ve done that. You’ve made things worse, by your reckless actions. Your betrayal. Your inability to see that you’re encouraging history to repeat itself.

  ‘Where will you go?’

  ‘A friend is going to let me stay with them.’

  ‘A friend? Who?’

  ‘You don’t know them. Just someone I used to go to college with.’

  I feel my stomach twist up again, his words – his lies, stabbing at my heart. A friend I don’t know? I know all of his friends. He knows all of mine.

  You’re staying with her, aren’t you, Michael? Your distraction. Ava. You’re going to her.

  ‘This isn’t forever, Ellie.’

  I look at him. And I want to believe him, I want to believe everything he tells me but I can’t. I once trusted this man with every fibre of my being, but now I trust nobody. There are times I don’t even trust myself.

  ‘We will get through this.’ He reaches across the table for my hand and I let him take it; let him squeeze it tight. ‘I promise you, Ellie, we’ll get through this.’

  Will we?

  He smiles. A smile that always used to make everything better. A smile that’s now just masking the lies, hiding the truth …

  For better, for worse …

  Does he remember those wedding vows?

  Do I …?

  Chapter 36

  He wasn’t angry with me. He was calm. Had he used that trip to Cardiff to think about things? Or had he let her persuade him that leaving me was the best thing to do? Is this the beginning of her end game? Is she building up to the point where she finally makes him leave, for good? That chance will never come. She can try, but I’ll make sure it never happens. I need Michael. He needs me. End of story.

  He’s been gone for a couple of days now. Staying in a hotel in Durham, not with a friend like he told me he was.

  More lies.

  I’ve been keeping track, I’m still listening to his calls, and so far he hasn’t spoken to her. Not over the phone, anyway. And he hasn’t been to that house in Chester-le-Street. He’s gone to work. The gym. Back to the hotel. But I keep watch, because I’ll know if he goes to her. I’ll know.

  I feel fingers tighten around my wrist, feel Liam pull my arm back behind me, gently prising the phone from my hand, his other hand on my hip as he puts my phone down on the countertop.

  ‘Enough, Ellie.’

  I turn around, remove his hand from my hip and I look at him. Right into his eyes. I can’t even remember asking him to come round, but I must’ve done. I must’ve needed him, for him to be here.

  ‘I’ll decide when it’s enough, Liam. Not you.’

  He edges past me, picks up my phone and slides it into his pocket. ‘It’s not healthy, what you’re doing.’

  He always did have an air
of arrogance about him, something Michael never had. Arrogance. But with Liam, it was always there, in the background. I can see it now, more clearly than I ever could.

  I reach for his pocket, for my phone, he doesn’t get to take shit away from me, what am I? Some errant teenager he feels the need to punish? But he grabs my wrist, grasps it tight. He stops me from retrieving what’s mine.

  ‘Let go of me.’

  He shakes his head, his eyes burning into mine. ‘You know where he is. You’re just torturing yourself now.’

  I laugh, and I try to wrench my arm free of his grip but he’s holding onto me too tightly. ‘Who do you think you are? You have no right to take my things …’

  ‘He’s asked me to make sure you’re okay, did you know that?’

  ‘Like he did when he was in Cardiff? Why didn’t you tell me, huh? That you’d spoken to him?’

  ‘There was no need to tell you. I didn’t have to tell you anything just now, but sometimes I think you need to see the messed-up irony of this entire situation. Maybe then you’ll think about ending it. All of it. Maybe then you’ll think about moving on because it’s time, Ellie. To move on.’

  ‘With you?’

  The corner of his mouth curls up into a smirk, and I narrow my eyes as I stare at him.

  ‘I love you, Ellie, and I don’t know how many more times I can tell you that before you finally start to believe it. I love you, I’ve loved you for so fucking long, I’ve wanted you, for so fucking long …’

  ‘Give me my phone,’ I hiss, and I reach out with my other hand, which he knocks away, and I’m starting to feel anger rise up inside me now. It isn’t his place to police me. He doesn’t get to say what I can and can’t do.

  ‘Give me my fucking phone, Liam.’

  ‘He’s gone for a reason, Ellie. Do you get that yet?’

  I slap him so hard I feel the vibrations race up my arm, it tingles with the force. And his grip on my wrist tightens as he turns his head back to me. I feel my throat tighten, I can’t get any breath out, and then he pushes me back against the counter, his mouth crashing down onto mine in a kiss that does nothing to help loosen that breath. Until he breathes into me. Until his breath is my breath and I’ve got my fingers wound in his hair, my legs wrapped around his waist. He’s inside me. He’s fucking me, because this isn’t making love, this isn’t even sex, it’s fucking. Hard. Frantic. Fucking. He’s taking his shit out on me, I’m taking mine out on him, we’re hurting each other, but that’s fine. We both need this. And as he thrusts into me I slide my phone from his pocket, slip it into the drawer beside me, and then I pull my legs tighter around him, I make him come, and when he does he cries out, his loud, guttural groans merging with mine as we both climax in a flurry of pent up frustration, confusion, anger. I dig the heels of my stilettos into the small of his back. I want to cause him pain, because I’m angry with him. Because I need him. I scratch at his neck, nip his lip with my teeth as he kisses me, and in turn his fingers dig into my thighs, pressing so hard it hurts. And then, it’s like the storm cloud has passed and a moment of calm descends. Only the sound of our breathing pierces the silence as he slides a hand around the back of my neck, pushing my head down so my forehead touches his. I feel his fingers in my hair, his other hand lightly stroking my thigh. It’s over. Whatever that was, it’s done.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers, and I take his face in my hands and I kiss him. ‘I just hate seeing what this is doing to you, and I can stop it, Ellie. I can make it all stop.’

  I look at him. I tilt my head to one side and I stare so deep into his eyes it makes me shiver. ‘How?’

  He cups my cheek in the palm of his hand, and he smiles slightly. He kisses me gently. ‘You just need to trust me. Okay? You need to trust me.’

  He reaches behind him, unhooks my ankles from around his waist and he lifts me down. Even though I’m wearing heels – high heels – I still have to look up at him, this tall and beautiful man. My best friend.

  ‘I don’t trust anyone, Liam.’

  He tugs loosely at the neck of my shirt, his fingertips grazing the curve of my cleavage, his eyes never leaving mine. ‘You should trust me.’

  ‘Why?’

  He smiles, and it’s one that reaches his eyes but that means nothing. ‘You ask too many questions, Ellie.’

  And I get no answers. There are too many secrets still hiding in the shadows, too much I’m still not comfortable with. Too many things I’m still not willing to accept.

  ‘I have to get to work,’ he says, putting an end to that conversation, and I watch as he moves around the kitchen – the kitchen of a house that isn’t his. It belongs to his best friend. To me. He’s here because I want him here. But maybe he shouldn’t be. What if Michael comes home? Finding Liam here wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary, but if he caught us like this, together …

  ‘Liam?’

  He turns around and smiles at me. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘What did you mean? You can make it all stop?’

  He comes back over to me, slides a hand onto my hip and leans in to me, his mouth brushing that space just below my ear. ‘I can make it all better, Ellie. I promise. All you have to do is trust me.’

  I breathe in deeply as he pulls back from me; as he walks away, out of the kitchen into the hall and I exhale slowly as I hear the front door close behind him.

  I don’t trust anyone.

  But I do want it to stop.

  I want someone to make it all better.

  But I think that someone has to be me.

  Chapter 37

  Today was a good day at work. The wedding venue project is moving along, and although we may not be ready to make the most of this summer’s wedding season, we hope to be up and running in time for the winter, for those magical Christmas weddings. I want to help create a fairytale for others, even if my own marriage feels like it’s crumbling around me.

  I’m exhausted. It’s been a long day and I’m ready for a bath, a take-away and a night in front of the TV. I don’t want Liam here tonight. I’ve told him I need some time alone, and he wasn’t happy. But he doesn’t get to decide when we spend time together. I do. And tonight, I don’t need him. Tonight, I’m okay with being alone.

  I check the locks on the front door are all secure, and then I go around every window, every door in the rest of the house and I make sure they’re all secure too. It’s something I need to do before I can settle. Before I can feel safe.

  I’ve just finished checking the house and poured myself a glass of wine when the doorbell rings. I told Liam I didn’t want him here tonight, and I sigh heavily as I head out into the hall. But as I glance at the security monitor, I feel my heart skip a beat. It isn’t Liam. It’s Michael.

  I quickly unlock the door, and as soon as it’s open he pushes past me into the hall, he doesn’t even look at me.

  ‘Michael …?’

  I close the door, hurriedly redo all the locks and then I follow him into the kitchen.

  ‘A fucking tracker, Ellie?’

  It’s like my blood’s suddenly turned cold, freezing my veins. I feel sick, dizzy. How did he know? How did he find out?

  ‘I mean, I knew there were things going on in your head, I knew you were acting irrationally …’

  ‘You wouldn’t talk to me, Michael. You wouldn’t tell me anything, wouldn’t …’

  ‘So you fucking tracked me? You listened to my calls? Jesus …!’

  He drags a hand through his hair, turns his back to me and I have to hold onto the counter behind me to steady myself. Fear swamps me, I can’t control this now, I don’t know what to do.

  ‘You’re fucking ill, Ellie. You need help. And I can’t give you that help, not anymore. I can’t do this, anymore. I’m done.’

  He turns away from me, starts to walk towards the door.

  ‘I just needed to know that nothing was going on …’

  He swings back around, his eyes blazing. I’ve never seen him so angry. ‘And my word sho
uld have been good enough. You can’t just go around tracking people, invading their privacy …’

  ‘If you have nothing to hide …’

  ‘You really don’t get this, do you? Are so you fucking deluded that you think there’s anything out there that can make this scenario right?’

  ‘How did you find out?’

  ‘Your recent behaviour; the way you’ve been acting, the questions – that gave me every reason to think something was wrong.’

  He still shouldn’t have been able to find out so easily. I’m confused …

  ‘Did someone look at your phone?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter how I found out, Ellie. What matters is that my own wife put an app on my fucking phone, without my knowledge, to keep track of me. To record my calls. My own wife spied on me.’

  ‘Who is she, Michael? Is that Ava? The girl in the lecture theatre. The same girl you met at the airport hotel …’

  ‘Jesus Christ … You really have been following me, haven’t you?’

  ‘Who is she, Michael?’

  He comes closer, so close he’s up in my face, his voice nothing more than a hiss but I’m staying calm. I have to. I have no other choice.

  ‘She’s none of your fucking business.’

  And then he steps back from me, backs off towards the door, he’s leaving. I can’t let him go, not like this.

  ‘Michael …’

  ‘You need help, Ellie. Seriously. And until you get that help, I don’t even want to talk to you. Just … just get some help. Please.’

  I can’t move, my feet are stuck to the floor. I can’t stop him from leaving. All I can do is listen helplessly as he unlocks the door. As his car drives off. Only then do my feet finally move and I run to the door, swinging it open, I need to stop him. But I’m too late, he’s already out of the driveway. He’s gone.