‘Yup.’ He looks inordinately pleased with himself.
‘Well, good for you. It worked a treat on me. But seriously. You’d be great in a relationship. And you seem to like sexquitea lot. So where do you get it?’
‘Between us?’ He looks at me from under long, dark eyelashes. ‘I had a thing with Elena for years. Nothing serious. It was just a hangover from our med school days. When she was single and we both had an itch we need to scratch, we’d… hook up.’
‘Elena?’I sit up on one elbow. Shit. I’ve idly noticed how attractive Elena is, in that abstract way I do with most women, where I mentally give them an Honor Chapman Cosmetics makeover. But Elena doesn’t need much help. She’s gorgeous, all dewy, olive skin and lush curves and glossy ponytail. She looks great with no makeup at all.
And she’s been sleeping with Noah. For years. She knows how this trail of hair on his stomach feels. She knows what histongue is capable of. She knows how intense it is to have him move inside her.
Jesus. The stab of jealousy is so visceral, it hits me like nausea.
‘You okay? Come here.’ He pulls me back down and I nestle into him gratefully.
‘I’m jealous.’ I laugh without mirth. ‘So jealous. I know that’s unfair, because you’ve got to deal with the fact that I’m married, but?—’
‘Hey. You have no need to be jealous, okay? Nothing’s happened in over a year.’
I exhale. ‘But didn’t you want it to go further? I mean, she’s beautiful.’
‘She is. And a fantastic person, and she’s a great doctor. And if I’m honest, she wanted it to go further. She’s made that clear, more than once. And I’ve made it equally clear I don’t feel that way about her. So there we are.’
Poor Elena, to be besotted by Noah and not to have him reciprocate. It must be agony. And here I am, with this amazing man, unable to give him one hundred percent of myself, no matter how much he deserves it.
‘Don’t you want a family?’ I whisper.
‘Of course I do.’
‘Tell me what you want.’
‘Okay. Don’t laugh. I want’—he sighs—‘family Sundays. I’ve always had this very clear vision: I want walks in Richmond Park on crisp autumn days, then I want to come home and cook a Sunday roast with my gorgeous wife, and stick on Classic FM or Radio 4, and get stuck into a little red while we’re cooking. Then a family movie with the kids after lunch, and later, once they’re tucked up, I’ll sweep my beautiful wife off to bed and make love to her.’
His eyes are shining, and as he speaks, a ball of emotion builds and builds and threatens to crush my chest. Thejealousy I felt over Elena dissolves, and in its place is an overwhelming sense of loss and want and pain and jealousy overthis. Noah will get to do this with someone, and it won’t be me, and I can’t bear it. But that’s not his fault, so I push the emotion down.
‘I can’t think of anything nicer. You deserve that. So much.’
‘But you have that already, surely? You and Jackson and the kids? Sometimes, at least?’
‘I suppose so.’ It hits me with clarity that there’s nothing extraordinary about what Noah’s proposing, exactly. And sure, my family and I do have Sundays like that, when Jackson’s around and we’re not lunching with movie producers and all that other crap. No, the tantalising thing about the picture Noah has painted is that it’s him in that vision.Him. And I want to live that Sunday over and over again with him. Not Jackson, nor anyone else. Just Noah.
I swallow and look away. ‘I wish that could be you and me.’
‘I wish it, too.’ His voice goes very quiet. ‘Look at me. When I think of that image now, the woman in it—my wife—has a face. She’s you. I close my eyes and imagine my future, and all I see is you. I love you so much, my darling. I know it’s not fair to say—I realise I’m putting you in a difficult position just by telling you—but I need you to know how I feel. How extraordinary you are.’
At his words, that ball of emotion in my chest balloons and threatens to suffocate me, manifesting as unstoppable tears. They come on without warning and spill over my nose, down onto my pillow. Shit. I press my fist against my mouth as I shudder in Noah’s arms, the beauty and pain and shock of his words rendering me incapable of uttering any of my own.
‘Oh, God.’ He presses himself against me and holds me more tightly, winding the blessed heat of his top leg aroundme. ‘Darling. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Shit. Forget I said anything.’
‘No,’ I mumble, sniffing hard. I pull back slightly to look into those glorious brown eyes. ‘Listen to me—those words areamazing.Youareamazing. To have you tell me you love me—I feel like the luckiest woman on the planet. And, God, Noah, you have no idea how close I am to saying it back. I want to, so badly. I’m so crazy about you, I can barely hold the words in.
‘But I can’t say them, sweetie. If I say them back, I’m the one who’s not being fair, because I’m not free. And you deserve everything you just told me about; you deserve a gorgeous family, and a beautiful wife, and so much happiness, and I can’t give you that. And I wish, so fucking badly, things were different.’
‘I know. I know you can’t. It’s okay. We’ll be okay.’ He presses his lips to the top of my hair, and I lie there and allow myself to be cocooned in him, comforted by him, even though I’m the one who will inevitably, at some point, have to hurt him.
Two nights later,I spend the evening at Good Vibes. I’ve had a full-on day at work; I’ve come straight here from the office and haven’t seen the kids since I packed them off to school with Di this morning. But Elena texted me earlier to say Mum was having a rough day emotionally, so I swing by for a couple of hours. Things will get tougher when the King’s academic year starts up again later this month and Ally can’t put in as much time here during the day.
With Mum asleep, I stand stiffly and stretch. It’s nine-thirty. Time to get home, shower, and polish off some emails over a glass of wine. Jackson’s away, thank God.
I’ve hardly seen Noah today aside from a quickhiwhen I arrived. I have no idea if he’s still here. But the door to his office is ajar, and there he is at his desk.
