STEPH
Teddy rubs his wet nose against my face, waking me from a dream. Justin called last night to tell me he was staying at a mate’s house after the races turned into a full session in the city. I check the time on the alarm on the bedside cabinet and roll over, pulling the duvet over my head, hoping Teddy will let me sleep in for a little longer.
I close my eyes again, thinking of the dream I just had. Callum was in bed next to me, moving the hair from my face. I bury my head into the pillow and imagine it’s his chest. Teddy barks and scratches on the door, making me jump. I throw the duvet off and jump out of bed. I’m not a morning person. Justin usually gets up early and sees to the dog and kids on a weekend.
As I walk through the kitchen, I flick the kettle and open the back door to let Teddy out. Luckily, the kids are still asleep after watching a late night movie, so I can have my coffee in peace. I check my phone for any new notifications as I do every morning, hoping one might be from a certain person. My shoulders drop when there’s nothing since the text I received last night from Justin telling me he’s crashing at a friend’s.
Teddy whines at the back door, so I let him in before settling down on the sofa. He cuddles up on my lap as I sip my coffee and pick up my book, a romance about a forbidden love. I huff to myself. Sounds familiar.
An hour later, I walk upstairs to get dressed and wake the kids. I shower, dress and do my hair and makeup. The kids are up now but still in their pyjamas. I hear the door go and the keys rattle. Teddy darts downstairs towards the front door and Justin shouts, “Where is everyone?”
Standing at the top of the stairs, I spot an enormous bouquet. “Who are those for?”
“Who do you think?”
The floral scent travels up the stairs. I try to think if I’ve missed someone’s birthday or another occasion or worse, an anniversary of someone’s death. But I can’t think of anything happening in April.
“For you, silly.”
“Me?” He never buys me flowers. Apart from the one time I asked him to buy me a chocolate egg at Easter, and he bought me a bouquet instead saying that chocolate wasn’t good for my diet. I walk to the bottom of the stairs to get a better view of the colourful bouquet; lilies, roses, and carnations. “What’s the occasion?”
“Can’t I get my wife some flowers? Why does there have to be a reason?”
“They’re beautiful, thank you.”
I take them from him and walk into the kitchen, still baffled. What is he after? It can’t be nookie. He hasn’t tried to sleep with me since the beginning of our holiday several weeks ago—thank goodness. The drunken quickie we had in Greece seems a distant memory now, and thankfully, I could barely remember it after the wine.
Since reading Callum’s journal again, I can’t get Cal out of my head. Once I know he's okay, I'll be able to move on.Sure you will.
I fill a vase with water and unwrap the flowers, breathing in the fresh floral scent as I snip the ends and arrange the flowers. Justin places both hands on my waist from behind and pecks my neck, sending a shudder down my spine.
I tilt my head and flash him a smile, but I want to remove myself from his hands. He’s too close. I can smell the alcohol on his breath from the session he had last night, and his suit smells of cigarettes and musty aftershave—Justin doesn’t even smoke. I know some of the lads do, but the stale smell paired with his hands on me and his lips on my neck makes me want to heave.
I turn around and take the vase to the dining table, placing it in the centre. It is beautiful and must have cost a pretty penny too. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I know anyone would love a husband that cooks, worships their kids, and brings home flowers.
It’s not him, it’s me. I don't want to be with him. My mind is constantly elsewhere. I should never have married him. I guess I felt he was my only chance at happiness, the only one that would ever want me.
After Cal rejected me all those years ago, I felt worthless. The person I loved most in this world and the person I thought loved me unconditionally rejected me. I wasn’t good enough for him. I felt I wasn’t good enough for anyone. Justin was kind to me. He picked me up when I was down. Yes, he always had the odd jibe about my weight. He was just like my brother and my mum in that respect.
I was so used to taking their crap; it felt natural for Justin to bang on about it, too. It almost made me feel loved. I know that’s messed up, but while they were going on about how I need to take care of myself and eat healthier, I always felt it came from a place of love like they cared and wanted me to be a healthier person. Now I know it’s just another way of controlling. Maybe my brother says it from a health and fitness freak’s point of view. But my mother certainly likes to be in control—always has. From the clothes I wore to the friends she would invite over for tea.
Justin also likes to be in control. It’s just his nature and while I think he couldn’t really care less about my weight, he likes to keep me in my place. I see that now. Maybe he’s afraid of losing me. Hence the flowers and his entire attitude change since Christmas. It makes me feel guiltier, knowing he’s putting in so much effort with me, and I still can’t get my head away from Callum, even now when I haven’t seen him in forever.
“I’m going to take a shower and get changed.”
My head snaps back towards the kitchen door where Justin is standing with his arm leant against the doorjamb. “Okay. If you pop your suit on the side, I’ll take it to the dry cleaners near work tomorrow.”
“Thanks, love.”
He disappears and I move the arrangement of flowers around until it’s even on all sides. The bright pink roses and the yellow carnations stand out against my cream neutral home.
The front door rattles, and I look down the hall, wondering who this could be. “Mum.”
“Morning Steph.” She walks into my kitchen like she owns the place. “Put the kettle on, would you? I’m parched.”
She takes a seat at the kitchen table.
“What are you doing here?” I flick the switch on the kettle.