The memory of Luke’s face as I laid out my offer comes into sharp focus in my mind. The way his face shuttered, that pause before he shifted from flattered to rejection – it stings.
The first time I go and proposition a man – a man who I trust – and he flat out turns me down? Ouch. It really felt like there had been a new chemistry between us in these last few weeks. I swear there had been a few lingering looks, a handful of moments filled with something else.
But perhaps I’ve mistaken a friend who’s looking out for me with a man who’s looking for something more. Either way, lesson learned.
Catching Colin with Stacey was a betrayal but Luke’s rejection makes me feel foolish, like I’m naïve for thinking he might ever want me.
“Always the quiet ones,” Chloe states, pulling the roast potatoes out of the oven and breaking the spell of my morose reverie. Chloe makes a mean Sunday roast and I’m here more Sundays than not. One of the only silver linings of being an orphan is that you get folded into other family traditions. People proactively include you. It’s kind of lovely.
“That’s what I said!”
“I’m sorry love,” she says, as she deftly flips potatoes. “Luke’s always been a bit of a mystery.”
I twist the stem of my wine glass between my fingers. “I thought there was something there,” I admit. “A few moments where I caught him looking at me… but maybe I imagined it.”
Chloe shoves the potatoes back in the oven and turns to me.
“I think there’s every chance he’s attracted to you, babe. I mean, look at you. You’re a stone-cold fox. But I can also understand why he’d hesitate. He’s what, nine or 10 years older than us? He’s known you since you were a kid. And he’s best mates with the brother who basically raised you. It’s got to be a bit of a headfuck for him.” She purses her lips in thought. “I’m disappointed for you because in so many ways, he’d be a perfect candidate for the Fuckit List. But I do understand his response too.”
I sigh again, louder this time, and take another sip of wine.
“I know. I get it. But I can’t lose momentum. I’m finally being brave. My sexual peak cannot be being finger-blasted by a tantric goddess in Hackney.”
Chloe snorts and starts peeling carrots.
“I do think Sloane was onto something though,” she muses, pausing mid-peel. “Salt could be a really good place to find a fuck buddy or two. She said everyone is heavily vetted right? Seemslike a safer bet than trawling the apps. Plus, you already know that everyone who goes to Salt is open-minded, and likely kinky as fuck.”
“True,” I reply, pondering the thought. “Won’t Luke be a bit weirded out if I start hanging out there?”
“What’s it to him? He’s turned you down but it would be pretty bloody facetious if he tried to block you from his club. He’s supposed to be all sex positive and enlightened right?”
“I suppose you’re right.” I grin.
Two hours later, I’m lounging on the sofa with a belly full of roast chicken. Annabel and I are playing tea parties with a bunch of Jellycats while the twins babble to each other on the floor. Josh is clearing up the kitchen and Chloe’s curled up on the other sofa, scrolling her phone. It’s been a seriously wholesome Sunday and I’m finally feeling relaxed after a rollercoaster few days.
I can’t believe how much has changed in so little time. In just a few weeks, I’ve left my husband, snogged – and then moved in with! – a total stranger, had a seriouslyfullbody massage, and visited a sex club. The Emmy of just a month ago would hardly recognise me.
“Oat milk latte?” Annabel offers me, holding up her wooden teapot.
“Yes please,” I reply, holding out my cup.
Annabel carefully pours an invisible stream of oat milk into my cup, her tongue peeking out in concentration.
“Biscotti?” she asks, holding out a plate of pink wafers.
“Biscotti?” I mouth at Chloe, who grimaces.
“We spend way too much time in Gail’s,” she replies. Annabel beams at me.
“Here you go Auntie Emmy.” Annabel pushes a plate of biscuits into my lap and I reach forward to stroke her hair. There’s a tiny pang I try not to name as I stroke her soft curls. Not regret, exactly. Just a whisper of the path not taken. I sip my imaginary oat latte and smile.
Watching Annabel entertain her Jellycats with total confidence makes me wonder when I stopped making choices just because they brought me joy.
She continues playing, oblivious, as I recall Colin’s note. I refuse to believe he was my last chance to have children, but even if I did, I wouldn’t go back to him. I’d rather remain childfree than have children with someone who so clearly didn’t respect or value me.
It’s wild how quickly the rose-tinted view comes off your marriage when you take a step back from it. I look at all the things I let slide, all the little red flags that should have told me that Colin was a selfish bastard from the start. I breathe a small sigh of relief that I won’t have to pay a fortune for Sky Sports or go to Henley Regatta with his obnoxious colleagues ever again.
I wonder if I would even have ended up with him if Mum and Dad hadn’t died. I was only 13 when it happened, old enough to have my life clearly bifurcated between the before and the after. The life I had with two parents and a brother, and the life I had where Nick and I tried to figure out how to make our family work with just the two of us. Well, the four of us if you include Luke and Chloe, who held us each tightly and never let go.
