The Other Woman(94)

‘Don’t start, Emily,’ he warned.

‘Yet despite all that, it’s not about me, is it?’ I went on, ignoring him. ‘You’ve somehow made it about you. How you’re hard done by. How you’re missing out.’

He looked down at his feet.

‘So, what do you do about it? You go out and screw whoever you can, to make you feel like a man again, to validate yourself as a red-blooded male. Because that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Proving to yourself that you’ve still got it.’

‘I felt rejected, like you didn’t find me attractive anymore.’

I laughed. ‘Isn’t that supposed to be my line? Yet instead of giving me time, or talking about it, you decided the way to solve it was to sleep with somebody else.’

‘You don’t know how you made me feel.’

‘For Christ’s sake, Adam, listen to yourself. What about me? What about my needs? Imagine how I feel, how difficult it is for me. Everything’s changed in my world: my body, my daily life, my priorities . . . everything. What’s changed for you? A little less sex, and a cute baby to come home to, play with for an hour, and then go to bed.’

He went to speak, but I cut him off.

‘But do you see me trawling the streets at night, desperate for a shag? Am I sloping off at a wedding to have a seedy encounter with a man whose name I don’t even know?’

‘It won’t happen again,’ he offered, as if I was supposed to be grateful for the sentiment. ‘I was drunk, I was lonely, and it was a mistake.’

‘Is that it?’ I asked. ‘Are you honestly expecting to just move back in, and then everything will be rosy again?’

‘I never meant to hurt you . . . I promise I’ll never hurt you again.’

His words echoed in my head, but it was as if someone else was saying them. I closed my eyes as a memory of James flashed before me: of him standing in front of me, saying the very same thing. ‘I promise I’ll never hurt you,’ he’d said. I felt sick at the sudden realization that his words were never about him making the promise not to hurt me. It was him warning me that Adam would.

‘What would you do if you were me right now?’ I asked Adam. ‘If you found out that I’d been with someone else?’

His face contorted, and a muscle spasm twitched along his jawline. ‘I’d kill him,’ he said.





44

Adam moved back in two weeks after James and Kate’s wedding. His pleas for me to take him back grew louder the closer it got to them returning from honeymoon, when no doubt he’d be kicked out of their flat.

‘You can always go and stay with your mum,’ I mused.

‘Are you joking? She’s bloody mad,’ he said.

We were getting somewhere. We were finally getting there.

Pammie was at the top of my list when it came to setting down a few ground rules when he came home. She could see Poppy whenever he chose to take her down there, but she was never to be left alone with her, unsupervised.

‘But what about when—?’ he went to say.

‘Under no circumstances,’ I said authoritatively.

He nodded solemnly.

There were to be no more Thursday nights out with the lads, and he could play rugby at the weekend, but after a quick drink, I expected him back home, not to still be getting drunk four hours later.

He stayed in the spare room for a few nights, but if we were going to make it work, there was nothing to be gained from sleeping in separate beds. I didn’t feel ready to be close to him, emotionally or physically, but I felt like I was sitting on a ticking time bomb, wondering how many hours and minutes would pass before he felt he was justified in getting it somewhere else. I hated that he made me feel that way.

‘What do you want to do about the wedding?’ he asked one night, as we were having dinner. He’d just returned from Pammie’s. He and James were alternating taking her for her ‘second round of chemo’. I was surprised that she was still keeping up the charade, since Kate and James were married now. She’d failed in her attempt to stop them, so I wondered what the point was in her continuing to lie.

‘I don’t feel it’s something we should do anytime soon,’ I said. ‘But I would like to get Poppy christened though.’

He nodded in agreement. ‘How do you want to go about that?’

‘I was thinking just a simple ceremony in church, and then have some food and drink somewhere.’

‘I’d like to do that sooner rather than later,’ he said. ‘I want Mum there.’

I ignored the comment. ‘Well, I’ll look at it when I get time,’ I said.

‘I don’t think time is on our side,’ he said, his voice breaking. ‘I don’t know how much longer she’s got.’

‘Oh, I’m sure she’s going to be fine,’ I said matter-of-factly.

He shook his head. ‘It’s really taking its toll this time round. They think it’s spreading. I don’t know if she’s strong enough to get through this—’ He choked on the last sentence.

I half-heartedly reached over and put my hand on his. I couldn’t offer him sympathy I didn’t have.

I looked at Poppy in her bouncer at my feet, her trusting eyes smiling up at me, and wondered how a mother could possibly put their child through this hell. How cruel would you have to be?