“Wow, being a builder must pay well.” He scans the room again. I watch his eyes rest on the walnut drinks cabinet and the tall French bookcase.
“He earns a decent wage, but he had a large inheritance from his Nan. Most of this antique furniture was hers.”
“I get now why you don’t want to leave him.”
I look at him, squeezing my eyebrows together. Is he serious? “Was that supposed to be a joke?”
“No, I get it. I wouldn’t want to leave all this either.” His hand waves in the air around my living room. “I can’t exactly compete, can I? Fuck knows what you must have thought when you stayed over at my place.”
“You think I give a toss about Justin’s money and this house? If you believe that, then you don’t know me at all.”
His words hurt more than any physical wound I have ever had, and his harsh statement from our teens rings through my head when he called me a materialistic bitch.
“I don’t know what to believe, Steph, I still don’t understand what’s tying you to him. People get divorced all the time, and the kids are fine. Happier even. I just wonder why you came back to me yesterday if you're still not willing to leave Justin.”
If only he knew I was going to leave him. I was ready to give myself to him fully, for him to have me, all of me to do as he pleases—mind, body, and soul—to be his woman every minute of every day, to wake up in his arms and be able to kiss him goodnight. I never want my soul to be parted from him. I never want a day to pass where I don’t feel his skin on mine, his lips on my mouth, and his gaze on me.
How could I be so foolish? The first time I slept with Cal in the snow, I should have left Justin. I knew then, deep down, there was no going back. I was kidding myself, pretending, living a lie.
But how can I tell Callum this now? He’s leaving tomorrow. I won’t make his life more complicated than it already is. He’s been doing fine without me all these months. He’ll be okay. I can’t tear him away from his daughters.
“I told you why I came. I wanted to see you, then I found out you were leaving and…” I sigh. “You told me before I was a materialistic bitch. If you really think that about me, I think you should go. You clearly don’t know me at all.”
“I told you I didn’t mean that, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“You just basically said that I’m only staying with Justin because of his money.”
“Tell me, Steph, why are you staying with him? It doesn’t do the kids any good to grow up seeing their parents miserable.” He looks at the family portraits on the wall. “But looking around your house at all your family photos, you don’t even look miserable. Why the fuck do you keep coming back to me? I finally feel like I can breathe again, then you show up on my doorstep to torment me. Each time I think you’re gonna tell me you’ve left him, yet you go back to him. Like you’re using me.”
“How can you say that I’m using you? I don’t hear you complaining when you’re screwing me.” I hear a whimper from the top of the stairs. “It’s Cairen. I don’t have time to argue with you, Cal.”
He rolls his eyes before I run up the stairs to check on Cairen. He is disorientated and drowsy. “Hi sweetie, how are you feeling now?” I ask, running my hand under the blonde hair on his forehead.
“Mummy, my head hurts.” Scooping him in my arms, I place him on my lap as I sit on the bed. I pass him a drink of water from the bedside table that I poured this morning and stroke the top of his head as he takes a few sips. The front door slams. I look out of the window to see Cal get in his car. He doesn’t see me, he doesn’t look back, just drives.
My chest tightens, making it difficult to breathe as an ache settles in my heart. I don’t have the energy to think about this right now. I’m all out of tears. How could he think I’m staying with Justin for the money, to be kept in a life of luxury? Of course, we’re comfortable financially, but we’re not millionaires. We have nice holidays, and the kids want for nothing, but I’m not filthy rich.
I grew up comfortable. My mum never worked and reaped the rewards of my dad’s business, part owner of a small pine manufacturing business, which was very lucrative.
Cal always said I was spoilt, unlike him. Growing up, his mum worked two jobs to support him and his sister, but it still wasn’t enough. They never had the luxuries of holidays abroad like I had or the latest trends, high end clothing, or new toys.
Perhaps he’s right, I am a spoilt brat. I’ve certainly taken what I wanted from him, chewed him up and spat him out, all the while deceiving Justin. I am a terrible person and don’t deserve either man in my life.
I carry Cairen downstairs, laying him on the sofa with a blanket. “Do you want to eat something? I can make you some toast.”
He nods at me and asks, “Can I watch TV?”
“Of course.” I hand him the remote and go to make lunch, trying to focus on my son, but Cal keeps coming into my mind.
Later, I will deal with him. I’ll call him. No, he should call me. He was the one in the wrong.What’s the point in anyone calling anyone anymore?My subconscious says, that annoying cow.It’s not like you're gonna see each other again.
He didn’t even say goodbye. The last time we parted at university, we never said goodbye. I can’t bear the thought of going another twenty years or longer without at least saying goodbye. I’ve never been one for big farewells, but I can’t leave things like this with this animosity between us.
I take Cairen his toast and a drink, sitting with him as he takes small bites and reluctantly chews and swallows. He still hasn’t got his appetite back. I attempt to clean the house, keeping myself busy, but every half an hour I check my phone. I thought he would have called to apologise by now, friggin’ arsehole.
Mum collects Cassie from school, telling me to get some sleep. She sits with Cairen while I go to bed, but I can’t sleep. I stare at my phone, waiting for a text, a call, anything. By the time Justin comes home, I can’t stay awake. My eyelids grow heavy, my throat is sore, and my body is weak. I give in and let the blackness take me. I haven’t even got the energy to think, just nothing. An emptiness fills my mind.
I wake up to the sound of birds chirping through the open bedroom window. Reaching for my phone, it’s 5am and still no missed call, voicemail, not even a text.
His train is at 6am. I could meet him at the train station. The scenario plays out in my head, and my heart accelerates as I jump from the bed. I’m still in my clothes from yesterday, which is a bonus. Creeping in the bathroom, I clean my teeth and wash my face. I don’t bother to change. There isn’t time.
In full stealth mode, I turn the key in the front door as delicately as possible. I don’t want to wake Justin asleep in the spare room. I hope the car engine won’t wake him as I pull off the drive. Please let me make it to the train station on time. Please, please, please let me see him before he goes.
His face, eyes, and his smile are all I need to see. To have those warm lips on me just one more time and say goodbye. I can’t leave things like this. I need some sort of closure. Can I ever get closure from that man?
I turn on the radio to calm my nerves. Dido. I listen to her words and have to turn it off. Any more of that, and I fear I’ll spiral into a deep depression in a bottomless pit of never ending sorrow. I should just tell him I want him. We could have a long distance relationship. I could see him on holidays and take the kids to Australia twice a year. It would be an experience.
He could come back to the UK at Christmas and summer. I could visit him there at Easter and October. We could make it work. Anything has to be better than this misery I’m in. But would he stay here? I won’t take him away from his girls. I couldn’t look them in the eye, knowing I was the reason they had to grow up without their dad. They’re only young for a few more years. I’m not going anywhere. When they’re older, he can come back to me. I won’t let him choose.
I park at the station with ten minutes to spare. My heart beats as if I have run here, not driven. I’m still undecided about what I will say to him, but I have to see him. Scanning the board for the correct platform, I notice the train to London is on the other side of the tracks. Spotting the bridge, I run up the steps as fast as my legs can take me and search the platform for him as I fly down the steps on the other side. He must already be on the train.