The Wife

by ML Roberts

  He takes my face in his hand and kisses me, his mouth warm against mine, and I fall against him. I let his arms hold me, his body shield me, he keeps me safe.

  But I don’t love him.

  I don’t …

  *

  The rain’s eased off as we head towards the coffee shop in the centre of Durham Karl asked us to meet him in. I don’t even know how I managed to get here; my head was all over the place, imagining every scenario, anything that Karl could have found. Something I missed? Or something new? Why is this meeting so important? I’ve had updates from him before over the past few days, but so far he hasn’t come up with anything concrete, nothing to prove that Michael is doing anything wrong. He’s visited the pub with some of his university colleagues for lunch or after-work drinks and then he goes back to the hotel he’s staying at. That’s all that’s happened, so far. He goes to work. He goes back to the hotel. And I don’t know whether I’m frustrated, that he’s doing nothing out of the ordinary, that he isn’t seeing her, or whether I’m angry at myself for thinking he was capable of that. Of cheating. Have I really been making something out of nothing? Could I have been wrong?

  That knot in my stomach twists tighter as we reach the coffee shop, and Liam reaches for my hand before we go in, squeezing it tight. I give him a small smile and I let him kiss me, a quick kiss. We shouldn’t even be risking that, not here. But I need him to make me feel safe, because right now I feel anything but.

  ‘It’s going to be okay, Ellie.’

  He can’t know that. How can anything ever be okay again? After everything we’ve done. Everything we’ve said. Every secret we’ve kept. Every lie we’ve told …

  I turn away and walk inside, scanning the room until I find Karl over in the corner of the coffee shop, his laptop open in front of him.

  My heart’s beating wild and fast as we make our way over to him, and while the bigger part of me desperately needs to see what he’s got that he thinks is so important, there’s another, smaller part of me that doesn’t want to see anything that could suddenly make it all real.

  I sit down and Liam slides into the booth beside me, his thigh resting against mine and I need him that close to me. I need to know he’s there.

  Karl smiles at us both, and I reach under the table for Liam’s hand. I don’t let out a breath until his fingers curl around mine. I’m not letting go of him.

  ‘You said you wanted me to see this as soon as possible.’

  Karl nods, and presses a few keys on his laptop, before he slowly turns the computer around to face me and Liam.

  ‘I took these this morning,’ Karl begins, and I look at the screen. At an image of Michael, getting out of his car. Going into a health centre that I know isn’t ours. ‘He left the university at about ten-thirty and drove into Chester-le-Street, to this doctors’ surgery.’

  I’m aware of my fingers tightening around Liam’s, of my heart beating faster, I’m confused. Is he ill? Is that what he’s hiding? Is something wrong with him? Oh, Jesus, what if he’s only been trying to protect me all this time?

  I look at Liam, but he’s as confused as I am.

  ‘Do you recognize that surgery, Ellie?’

  I shake my head, glance back down at the laptop screen.

  ‘He was inside for about fifteen minutes. And when he left …’ Karl presses another key, and another image pops up on the screen, one that makes that knot in my gut tighten even more, nausea rising up in my throat. ‘He wasn’t alone.’

  Liam’s hand squeezes mine even tighter as I stare at the screen. At my husband.

  With her.

  Ava.

  I watch as more images appear, of my husband and his distraction. I stare at her leaning into him as he talks to her. Comforts her.

  His pregnant whore …

  Chapter 40

  ‘Can you see it now, Ellie?’

  He’s talking, but I’m not listening. I’m tuning him out, letting his voice fade into the background.

  ‘Can you see what’s happening?’

  Why is he here? I’m almost sure I told him I wanted to be alone, so why is he in my kitchen?

  ‘You need to go, Liam.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you alone, not now.’

  I raise my head slowly to look at him. ‘Why? What are you scared of? Do you think I’m going to do something stupid? Is that it?’

  ‘No…’

  ‘Then you can go, can’t you?’

  ‘Come home with me, Ellie. Please.’

  I shake my head. I want to be on my own. For the first time in a long time I actually want to be alone, in this house.

  He comes over to me, takes hold of my wrists and unfolds my arms. He takes my hands in his, his grip tight around my fingers.

  ‘I don’t think you should stay here. This house, it isn’t good for you.’

  ‘It’s my home.’

  ‘Pack a few things and come back to mine. Please, Ellie.’

  I tug my hands free of his and walk over to the counter. I pour myself a large measure of whisky, but before I can drink it he’s taken the glass from me. Poured the whisky down the sink.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’

  ‘Pack a bag and come home with me.’

  ‘Just go, Liam. Please.’

  ‘She’s pregnant, Ellie. You saw that, right? You saw Michael, with her…’

  I swing around and stare at him. I’m tired of him now, I don’t want him here. I need to think. ‘We don’t know the baby is his.’

  ‘Jesus, Ellie, come on…!’

  He rakes a hand through his hair, throws his head back and sighs heavily.

  ‘You want it to be true, don’t you? You want to believe that my husband is sleeping with her, that he got her pregnant, you want that to be true. Why, Liam? Because you think that’ll make me stop loving him? Make me run to you…?’

  ‘You’ve already run to me, Ellie.’ He moves a little closer, reaches out to touch my cheek. ‘And you didn’t do that for the hell of it. You did it for a reason, you’re just too scared to admit it.’

  ‘You need to go. Please.’

  He pulls his hand back, steps away from me, but his eyes remain fixed on mine. ‘I love you, have you got that yet? I love you so much, and I won’t let him do this to you. I won’t let him hurt you like this.’

  I say nothing. I just keep staring at him, hoping he’ll get the message. That he’ll leave, I really do need to be alone now.

  ‘This is killing you, he is killing you, and I can’t stand by and watch him do that.’

  Still, I remain silent. I want him to go, I can’t think with him here, he’s too much of a distraction.

  ‘Ellie?’

  I shake my head. He needs to go. And he does, eventually. But I wait until I hear his car leave the driveway before I move, before I head into the hall, pull the bolts across the door. Make myself safe. And as soon as that’s done I lean back against the wall, close my eyes, and take a second to breathe. A second to let what I saw today sink in.

  Her.

  Ava.

  Pregnant.

  My husband, holding her in his arms, her fingers clinging onto his jacket. She’d looked upset. Scared. She should be.

  My eyes spring open and I stare at the door. I glance at the security monitor. I look down at my left hand, at the wedding band there on my third finger. A symbol of those vows Michael and I made to each other.

  To have and to hold.

  For better, for worse.

  In sickness and in health.

  Till death do us part…

  They mean something, those vows. We said them, and we meant them. All of them.

  Didn’t we, Michael…?

  Chapter 41

  I can’t get those images out of my head. His concerned expression. His finger tucked under her chin as she looked up into his eyes. I couldn’t sleep, I spent the night lying awake staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything I’m losing. My husband. My l
ife. My mind…

  I need to see him. Michael. I need to see him. I need to confront him once and for all; I need to do that, even though Karl – the private investigator – told me to do nothing until he’s got more information. It’s what I’m paying him for after all, isn’t it? To gather more information. To watch my husband, track his movements, because I can’t do that anymore. He told me to wait, until he has more proof. Do I need more proof? Weren’t those pictures enough?

  I push open the revolving doors of the hotel I know Michael’s staying in and stride into the lobby. Why did he never go to that friend he claimed he was going to stay with? Was there ever a friend? Or was that just another lie? After all, it’s easier to bring her here, isn’t it? Easier to carry out that deception and betrayal in a place full of people who don’t know you. Who won’t judge you. How many times has he lied to my face?

  How many times have I lied to his?

  Despite the fact it’s only just gone 8 a.m., the reception area is busy. There seems to be a large group of people trying to check out so I hang back a little, sit down in the foyer, my gaze shifting between the front desk and the door. I have no idea if they’ll tell me Michael’s room number, but I’m his wife. I’ll make up some kind of emergency, I can lie just as well as he can. Probably even better.

  My phone vibrating momentarily distracts me, and I pull it from my pocket. It’s Liam.

  I glance quickly outside, and then I realize Karl is probably parked up somewhere, watching the hotel. Has he noticed me come in here? He should have done, if he’s doing his job properly. And he won’t be happy that I’ve done this, that I’ve come here, but rather than confront me himself, has he called Liam? Is he too scared to tackle the woman he can see I’ve become? Would he rather Liam come and handle this? Handle me? Is that who I am now? Something to be ‘handled’?

  I ignore the call and slide the phone back into my pocket, but within seconds it vibrates again, so this time I turn it off and throw it into my bag. I don’t need the distraction. And then I hear it – his voice. Michael’s voice. Deep. Bold. Perfect diction. It carries well, my husband’s voice.

  He’s at the front desk, talking to the receptionist, smiling at her the way he smiles at every woman he comes into contact with. And she’s just like all the others, sucked in by his handsome face and easy charm. And I’m tired of it, the way he flirts with them, attracting these women like some modern-day pied piper.

  I get up, make my way over to him, and as he turns his head his smile evaporates.

  ‘What are you doing here, Ellie?’

  He speaks to me like I mean nothing to him. It stings, further ripping that hole in my heart that he’s already put there.

  ‘I need to talk to you.’

  He turns away, signs something the receptionist slides over to him, and he looks at her as he hands it back. He throws her that smile, again, but this time she doesn’t return it. She quickly glances in my direction. I’m making her uncomfortable.

  ‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ he says, slipping his newspaper into his bag before sliding it up onto his shoulder. ‘I think you should go.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere, Michael. I’m quite happy to say all I have to say right here, if that’s what you’d prefer.’

  The way he looks at me, it makes me feel sad and angry. Tired. Defeated. But I can’t let those feelings win out. I need the truth. I need to know how to end this.

  He sighs heavily. A frustrated sigh. ‘Come to my room.’

  He turns and heads towards the lifts, and I follow him, neither of us saying anything. The silence between us is almost foreboding, and I feel my heart start to pick up a faster rhythm as we approach his room. She’s obviously not with him. But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t been here.

  He closes the door behind him, throws his bag down on the bed. He stares at me, and again I feel sadness and anger merge, I still love him so much. That’s why I’ve been driven to this, because I love him. He’s my husband … my husband.

  ‘What do you want, Ellie?’

  I tilt my head to one side, and look at him. Right at him. I hold his gaze and he narrows his eyes, he’s confused. Good. I’m the one in control now, and I need to make sure it stays that way.

  ‘I want you, Michael.’

  He narrows his eyes a little more, and then he breaks the stare; he laughs, turns his head away from me, runs a hand along the back of his neck. ‘Jesus Christ…’

  I walk over to him, pull his hand away from his neck and I force his head around to look at me. ‘There’s nothing funny about this. I’m your wife, and that’s something you seem to be forgetting…’

  His fingers grasp my wrist, so tight they dig into my skin, but I don’t even flinch.

  ‘You haven’t been my wife for a long time now, Ellie.’

  ‘And whose fault is that?’

  ‘I didn’t drive you to this…’

  ‘You helped.’

  His eyes lock on mine, it’s like he’s staring into my very soul. Trying to find the woman he married. The woman he loved – no. He still loves me. Whatever he’s done, we can fix it. We can move on. We can get past this, I know we can. I wasn’t sure before, but being this close to him … I’m not willing to let him go.

  I reach out with my free hand, lightly touch his mouth with my fingertips and he doesn’t stop me. He keeps his eyes on mine, and I know he feels it too. That connection, that bond between us that can’t be broken.

  ‘Do you still love me, Michael?’

  ‘Ellie, please…’

  ‘Do you still love me?’

  ‘Of course I still love you, but…’

  ‘Ssh.’ I shake my head, press my fingers against his mouth to silence him. ‘You still love me. I still love you. We can save this, Michael. We can save us…’

  He grasps my wrist a little tighter, but still the pain means nothing. I feel nothing. ‘Ellie, you’re not well…’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘You need to talk to someone. You need to go back to the counsellor…’

  I wrench my arm free and step back from him. ‘All I ever wanted was to talk to you. My husband. What happened that night … we vowed we’d stick together, remember? You promised me that, you said…’

  ‘And I’ll never break that promise, but right now – right now, I can’t do this. You need help, Ellie.’

  I walk back over to him, run my fingertips lightly over his jacket collar. ‘I don’t need help.’ I pull him gently towards me, and he doesn’t protest, doesn’t make any attempt to stop me. Because he’s weak? I think we might all be a little guilty of that. I rest my mouth against his, smiling slightly as I feel his erection nudge my thigh. ‘I just need my husband back.’

  He slides a hand around on to the small of my back, lowers it to my bottom, cupping it gently as he kisses me; as he pushes me back against the wall.

  Weak.

  Weak.

  Weak…

  ‘You want me because I’m not the woman you married,’ I breathe as his hand presses against my breast. ‘That’s what’s making you hard, right?’

  He looks at me for a second, his eyes burning into mine, and then he steps back. It’s like he’s suddenly been yanked from a trance; like he can’t quite believe what he’s doing, and it breaks my heart. It fills me with anger. Two very different emotions clashing, fighting against each other.

  ‘You need to go, Ellie. Now.’

  The anger’s winning. Sadness is just a waste of time, it’s sucking up the energy I need to fight this battle.

  ‘Because I’m not Ava?’

  He takes another step back, rakes a hand through his hair as he stares at me again. ‘I’m not doing this, okay? I want you to go.’

  I walk towards him. I hold his gaze, I need to stay strong. Focused. He needs to know I’m not just going to roll over and give up without fighting this.

  ‘What does she do to you, Michael, to make you keep running to her?’

  ‘You nee
d to go.’

  ‘Is it the prospect of a younger body, hmm? A body that isn’t damaged, like mine? A body that isn’t scarred? Does she fuck you in ways you never dreamt of…?’

  He grabs hold of my wrist again, his eyes blazing with an anger I haven’t seen in him before, but he doesn’t scare me. I don’t think anything scares me anymore. I think I passed that point a long time ago.

  ‘You need to leave, right now.’

  What nerve have I touched? What button did I press?

  He opens the door and lets go of me. He’s giving me the chance to leave without a scene – which I have every intention of doing, but this isn’t over. This is so far from over.

  I reach out, cup his cheek, move my mouth so very close to his. ‘You caused this, Michael. You did this, with your reckless behaviour.’

  ‘I did a lot of things I’m not proud of, Ellie. Remember?’

  We stare at each other for a few loaded beats, and then I step back from him. I turn and walk away. As I head towards the lift I feel that anger rising, bubbling away inside of me, threatening to explode. I need to get out of here now, I need to go to work, do something normal. If I knew what normal was anymore.

  ‘Ellie?’

  I stop walking, and look up to see Liam standing there in reception, his hands in his pockets, his face serious. Concerned? He might be. I’m not sure, I can’t really read his expression.

  ‘I need to get to work…’

  He grabs my hand as I pass him, swinging me around to face him. ‘What’ve you done?’

  I don’t know, what I’ve done. But that anger’s filling me now, flooding my veins. I’m angry with myself, with Michael. Liam. I’m so fucking angry…

  I look up into his eyes, and he gets it, he feels that anger coursing through me, burning my gut, it’s relentless. I need to channel it, rid myself of it before I go anywhere or do anything, and he knows that. Liam won’t turn me down. Liam is the weakest of them all, I know that now.

  I kiss him, and he responds in a heartbeat, he always does. His fingers wind in my hair, his body hard against mine, but we can’t stay here. People are watching, we’re in too public a place…