“Me too, love.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too. I’ll be there soon.”
“I know. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to wreck your day. I know you have business, and…”
“Faith. I…”
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye.” I hang up, before my grief completely overwhelms me. I drop the phone to the kitchen floor with a noisy clatter and lay my head on my arms. I give in to it, I stop fighting and face the truth. I stop fooling myself, there’s nowhere to hide.
I’m eye to eye with a relationship turned sour, the loss of the marriage I thought I had, the realisation that if he hadn’t been taken from me by death, I’d have lost Edanyway. I probably already had, even before he sent his motorbike careering into that tree.
And what about Caroline? How could she look me in the eye? We were friends, or so I thought. All the time she was… what? What exactly was she doing with my husband? How far had it got between them?
I sob for the broken promises, the betrayal, the future lost, that I now know was never anything more than a fantasy.
Chapter Fourteen
I spend the next day in a daze. So much for the pressing demands of my clients, the unmissable deadlines that kept me from accepting Ewan’s invitation to fly out to Qatar. I drift around my house, drinking tea, staring at the television, waiting for the clock to count down the hours until I can go back to bed.
The card continues to sit on my kitchen table, taking the piss out of me. Not definitive, not enough in itself to tell me the story I so desperately need to hear, it serves as a constant reminder that I’ll never know the truth. Not the whole truth.
My head is whirling with questions, but there’s nowhere to take them. Ewan was my one hope, though I dread to consider how I might have reacted if he’d told me that he had his suspicions about Caroline and my husband, or worse still that he knew of Ed’s betrayal. If there’s any shred of comfort in all this, it’s that Ewan was clearly as shocked as I was. He never saw this coming either.
I make myself yet another pot of tea and glare at the offending item propped against my sugar bowl. Come to think of it, hearts and flowers would never be Ewan’s style. I hadn’t thought them Ed’s either, but perhaps Carolinebrought out other qualities in him.
The bitch. The conniving, secretive, lying bitch.
I watched her die, held her hand in her final, lucid moments. I’m not proud of the feelings I have toward her now. Is it possible to hate someone who’s dead? It must be. I do.
If anything, I’m more surprised, more disappointed in Caroline than I am in Ed. I knew he was a faithless jerk. Deep down, I knew that. I thought better of her.
I recall her final words to me. Her apology. She thought she had hurt me, and I dismissed it. I didn’t understand what she was saying then, but it makes sense now. I comforted her, reassured her, offered her the platitudes I thought she needed to hear. And all the time she was trying to seek forgiveness for stealing my husband.
Fucking hell, what a mess. What a bloody mess.
* * *
It’s late afternoon when I hear a sound at my front door. Not a knock. It’s the click of the lock. The door opens. Footsteps.
“Faith? Where are you?”
Ewan? Ewan’s here. But—how? He isn’t due back for weeks. I rush to the kitchen door in time to see him dump a holdall on the floor.
He opens his arms and I rush at him.
“You came. You came home.” I’m sobbing, grasping at his jacket. I notice it’s wet. It must be raining outside.
“Of course I came. Did you think I wouldn’t? Did you imagine I’d leave you on your own, after this?”
“I love you. I’m so glad you’re here. How did you manage it?”
“It took some arranging. I had to come via Dubai then change flights in Amsterdam. And I did a little detour toBradford on my way. I just managed to catch Mike before he checked out of his hotel. I’m here now though.” He stiffens as he looks over my shoulder. “Is that it? The card?”
“Yes,” I snivel. “I want to tear it up but I can’t.”
“Maybe later. Can I read it?”
