I smile tiredly. ‘Let’s say our crisis response protocol is a well-oiled machine by now. Isn’t it, Di?’
‘Runs like a Swiss watch these days,’ Di says cheerfully.
‘Let me get you tea. See you in my office? Di, you’re welcome to hang out in the kitchen.’
I make it to his tiny office and fall into the spare chair, pressing my fingers to my temples. I’m broken, and the worst part is still to come: talking to Noah and breaking the news to Mum that her illness is front-page news. God help me.
And then Noah’s back, two mugs of tea in hand. He kicks the door shut with his foot and puts them down and pulls me up into his arms. And that’s that. His strong arms wind around me and hold me up, and he sighs into my neck, and all the bullshit and uncertainty and overwhelm from the past twelve hours melt away. It may be just for a moment, but I’ll take it.
‘Jesus Christ,’ he mutters. ‘Where do we start?’
‘Just hold me very, very tight.’ I tighten my grip on his neck and rub my nose into his shirt, right below his collar. Inhale him.
He obliges. ‘Any reason you look even more like a supermodel than usual this morning?’ His tone is light, jokey. It sounds forced, but I appreciate the levity.
‘Armour. Revenge. Show them their crap doesn’t phase me. Standard response.’
‘Effective.’ He strokes my back. ‘What the hell happened last night—did you find out?’
‘No. Probably an opportunistic pap striking lucky. ThePostsaid he approached them with the photos.’ I pull out of his grip and put my hands on his shoulders. ‘Did you see theMail?’
I’m proud of what we’ve pulled off this morning. TheMail, never happier than when on the moral high ground, has gone to town on a scathing indictment of thePost’s moralsand journalistic integrity. They’ve reprinted my and Jackson’s joint statement in full and have included stock photos of Evelyn, Astrid and Stacey turning up at Elaine’s that evening Noah and I were supposedly having a private rendezvous. ThePosthas ended up with egg on its face, though I’m wiser than to suppose it’ll stop them from pulling similar stunts again.
‘I did. Very impressive. Seriously. Remind me never to piss you off.’ His hands play with the dip of my waist, and he kisses me gently on the mouth, and, as his lips coax mine open, my resolve to talk weakens. It can wait a few minutes. I stand in his chaotic little office and allow myself to experience this kiss as it takes on momentum.
Noah’s telling me something with this kiss, and I want to tell him the same thing. This is sacred. This is for us. It’s as sweet, as sublime, as transcendent as it would have been yesterday, before this shit-show erupted. Those vultures outside can’t touch us, can’t burst our bubble in this moment.
He slides a hand up my neck, gathering my hair in his fist, and angles my head. Kisses me more deeply. Our kiss is worshipful, heavy with meaning, and I’m hyper-present to every dance of his tongue, every slide of his lips. I can’t tell if he’s in denial about the conversation that has to happen next, or all too painfully aware. But as his tears pool where my face meets his, I have my answer. He’s committing me to memory.
A few minutes later, I pull gently away. ‘Noah.’
He rests his forehead against mine, rubs a lock of my hair between his fingers. ‘I know.’ It’s a whisper. He lets me go and sits down heavily. Swipes the back of his hand across his wet cheeks. ‘Have a seat. Get that tea down you.’
I scoot my chair forward so our knees are touching. ‘I don’t see a way forward for us, darling. I’ve been going over it all night.’
‘I know.’ This time it’s a sigh, and the weight of resignation in that sigh tugs my heart down with it.
I push on, take his hand. Squeeze those beautiful, supple fingers. ‘They’ve taken all our oxygen, you know? We’ve got nothing left to play with. Short of spending all our time together in this room for as long as Mum’s here, we have no options. We’ve done well to keep it under the radar till now. But thePostwon’t take this lying down. They’ll have people trailing me—us—from now on, hoping to catch us.’
‘It’s so unfair. Your husband is fucking that woman in plain sight and doesn’t seem to have had to deal with any consequences, from what I can see. I feel so powerless. It’s the nastiest feeling, having the rug pulled out from under us like this. I can’t—I can’t make head nor tail of it.’
‘Nothing about this is fair, darling.’ I bow my head. That powerlessness, that sense of being a puppet with no clue who’s pulling my strings, is all too familiar to me, but must be crippling for him.
‘Can I ask you a question? Have you ever thought about telling Jackson about me? I’ve been wanting to ask—it sounds like he’s pretty open with you about what he gets up to, from what you’ve said.’
‘It’s a fair question. And the answer is no. I thought about it for a second this morning. He didn’t even question my integrity when I called to brief him, which is kind of sweet and also really fucking irritating. He’s so sure I’m the good little wife I’ve always been, waiting for him at home. He was in bed with her when I called; can you believe that?’
‘You have got to be fucking kidding me.’ He clenches his fists.
‘Sadly not. But I’m not like him, and this whole thing has got unsustainable. I can’t keep going like this. Jackson is very good at compartmentalising his family and his other women. I don’t think he loses a moment of sleep over it. But I’ve been feeling torn in two. You and I—we’ve got in so much deeperthan we were ever supposed to, and you know you consume me.
‘So if you’re asking if I’ve considered coming clean to Jackson and getting his blessing about seeing you, then no, because you deserve far, far more than being on the periphery, and I can’t handle the emotional load of juggling a marriage and a very intense, meaningful relationship. So maybe this disaster is a blessing in disguise—maybe it’s done us a favour by taking the decision away.’
‘So your marriage wins.’ His tone isn’t spiteful, just resigned. Flat.
‘Noah—’
‘It’s okay. Seriously. You’ve always been honest with me. This was supposed to be a bit of fun for both of us. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you. You haven’t done anything wrong.’
