“Kim, no…”
“I don’t think of him the same way anymore.” Her eyes are clear. Her words aren’tprovoked by emotion. She’s obviously given this some thought. “I know from the outside it looks as if it’s all my fault. I pushed too hard. I made him feel as if children were more important than he was. But I used to think he’d be by my side whatever. That he’d support me one hundred percent, no matter what happened in our lives. I thought we had this unbreakable love, better and strongerthan anyone else’s. But I was wrong. He’s weak, and I despise him for it.”
I stare at her, shocked at the bitterness in her words. “He’s not weak.”
“He is. He talks to me like a child. Complaining because I don’t give him enough attention. Saying he’s exhausted from it all, when he doesn’t have to have the hormones and the injections. When he doesn’t hate himself, or the sight of his own blood, because it’s a symbol of his failure.”
Tears prick my eyes. “Don’t…”
“Last night, I tried to initiate sex. It’s been months since we slept together. And he said he didn’t want to, and he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to again.”
Oh, what an awful thing to be told. “I’m so sorry.”
“Afterwards he apologized and said he didn’t mean it. But he did. I know he did. Do you know how that makes me feel?”
I don’t reply, because I can guess, but I wouldn’t presume to say I understand her pain.
“And right then, I realized I didn’t want him either, not really. I said I did because I didn’t want to admit the marriage is over. But it is. We don’t desire each other anymore. The passion… it’s gone. And I know you could say it’ll come back, and maybe we should go to couples counseling, and have date night, and make an effort, but neither of us can be bothered. It’s too late. And I didn’t tell you because I’m hoping that you catch it early, and you’re able to mend things with Jude before it gets this bad.”
I sip my fruit tea, but I’d forgotten to tell her that I usually have honey in it. It tastes bitter, and I wince and put the mug down. “I get it, I really do. But my situation with Jude is very different from yours and Simon’s. With us… it’s not just about having a family. It’s much bigger than that.”
“Maybe, but if you were to sort out this one thing perhaps everything else would fall into place.” Her expression is hopeful. She’s frightened she’s ruined my relationship as well as her own, and she wants to try to save mine so at least one of us is still happy.
“I think I’ll go for a walk,” I say. “I need to clear my head.”
“Beth…”
“I love you.” I walk up to her and give her a hug. “And I’m so, so sorry how things have turned out for you. I’ll talk to you later, and youcan tell me what you’re thinking about doing. But right now, I need some time alone. Is that okay?”
She nods.
I pick up my phone and head out the front door.
Jude has gone. It’s a beautiful day, and I stride out, needing to get my body moving, feeling that the physical exertion will somehow force the stagnant energy that seems to be pooling in my body to flow.
My body begins to loosen as I walk, but it doesn’t stop my heart aching. Everything feels so complicated and unclear. I feel as if I’m up to my waist in quicksand, and there’s nothing to grab onto.
Or maybe there is. Archer is there, waiting to take my hand, but at the moment I’m not sure if he’s strong enough to pull me out. I know he wants me, but he’s not going to actively come and claim me because of Jude. I’m being pulled in two directions, and I feel as if I’m being torn apart.
I turn toward the beach and walk slowly along the path that shadows the road, the sea on my right. I wish Jude hadn’t come to the house today. All he’s done is muddy the waters, when what I wanted was clarity. And now the silt is all stirred up.
Head down, I keep walking, tired and despondent, wishing things were simple, and not such a complicated mess.
Chapter Twelve
Archer
On Monday, Isaac arrives at nine, and Cullen and I spend a couple of hours walking around the farmhouse and its grounds with him. Isaac’s upbeat and positive. He says the house looks structurally sound, and as we’re mostly happy with the layout of the rooms, changes are going to be minimal. He makes copious notes and sketches, and then he promises to get back to us in a day or two with a quote for the renovations we want and heads off back to his office.
At midday, Cullen and I walk down to Sunrise Bay, buy ourselves some boxes of sandwiches, some fruit, and a coffee from the supermarket, and take them back up the hill to the farmhouse, his German Shepherd, Ghost, by our sides. Isla is there when we arrive, having finished a morning shift at the Ark, and we take our lunch out onto the patio. Cullen has bought a few more cheap plastic chairs, and we sit and eat, looking out at the view.
“I was covering for Beth,” Isla announces, having a bite of one of the sandwiches. “She was off sick.” She picks out a piece of cucumber and hands it to Cullen, who eats it without questioning. “I called her,” she continues, “but it just went to voicemail. I passed Jude in the car park on the way out and asked him how she was. He said he wasn’t sure, which I thought was a bit odd, but he was going to see her.”
My head snaps up. Jude’s going to visit Beth? I feel a sudden, uncharacteristic sweep of jealousy.
Isla’s looking at me, and a frown flickers on her brow. “What?”
I hesitate. I’m not a gossip, and I dislike those who enjoy spreading rumors. But that’s not what this is. We’re all friends, and I surprise myself by feeling the need to talk about it.
