I see the moment he remembers the surprise he planned, and I also see the thought behind his eyes.Idiot,he tells himself.What were you thinking?
I feel a tug of sympathy for him.Nothing wrong, I want to answer. Because it wouldn’t be, not usually.
I turn and head back to my glass of bubbles, sitting frosty and fizzing on the table outside, slide into one of the chairs and let out a deep sigh. The moonlight carves a broken path on the sea to the horizon and there are almost more stars than sky above me. I’ll just sit here, taking it all in, until Gil falls asleep and then I can creep into bed beside him.
I’m almost at the bottom of my glass when I hear a noise. He walks towards me, barefoot, shirt unbuttoned, and places his glass on the table. After topping us both up, he sits down opposite me. He doesn’t look as if he’s sulking. He doesn’t even look pissed off. He just looks … tired. And maybe even a little sad.
There’s another tug inside my chest. I do my best to ignore it.
‘Sorry,’ I say. For what, I’m not exactly sure, but then apologizing for everything and anything when I feel awkward is my MO so it really shouldn’t surprise me.
He nods. ‘So you’re ready to tell me what’s going on with you?’
My eyes open wide. No. I certainly am not. But I’m very ready to sweep it all under the carpet. ‘I’ve told you, I’m—’
‘I swear, Erin. If you tell me you’re fine one more time, I’m going to lose it.’
While he seems calm and still on the outside, I can tell it’s because he’s holding himself taut, straining to keep everything on the inside. I shiver, even though the night has not yet turned chilly.
Well, he’s stolen the only possible response I had. I shake my head and stare into my glass for a long while. When I look up again, Gil is still waiting. It’s obvious he’s not going to let this drop. I should have known. Gil Sampson isnothinglike the man I love.
‘Don’t do this to me,’ he says. ‘To us.’
‘What? What am I doing?’
‘This isn’t you.’
Well, he’s wrong about that. ‘Yes, it is. This is me,’ I respond. It’s everything else in this crazy world that isn’t real.
‘No,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘This … this dishonesty.’
I sit up straighter. ‘That’s a bit strong.’
He blinks slowly, then fixes his eyes on mine. I’m tempted to look away, but I resist the urge. I need to do this; I need to meet him in this moment. ‘This isn’t how we operate,’ he says. ‘This isn’t how it’s been for all these years we’ve been together, not since Megan …’ I’m too distracted by the mention of her name to fully comprehend what he’s saying, but then he continues. ‘Where’s the open, giving Erin who isn’t afraid to say what she thinks and feels? The woman who’s knows how to be vulnerable, who’s not afraid to show every part of herself to me?’
I stare back at him, no words in my mouth, no thoughts in my head. I’d like to know where that woman is, too. In fact, I’d very much like to meet her.
He takes hold of my hand, the way he tried to do at dinner, and there’s such intensity in his expression that I don’t pull away. It’s like I’m held in a tractor beam. ‘That’s the woman I love. That’s the woman I thought I was marrying …’
Sonotme, then. I almost laugh. Somehow, him saying that makes this easier. ‘That woman isn’t real,’ I say softly. ‘She’s an illusion. A figment of your imagination.’Just as much as you are of mine,I add silently. So now we’re quits. I feel quite liberated.
He drops my hand, stands up and walks away, running a hand through his hair. He does this a lot when he’s stressed, I realize. I’ve even seen him doing it in real life, on the rare times he’s back in the country and the even rarer times he sees Simon and me together rather than just Simon on his own.
Suddenly, he turns and strides towards me. I would get up and back away, but I can’t push the chair back from the table fast enough. He crouches down beside my chair and takes my hands.‘Please, Erin.Please.Whatever you think you can’t tell me, you can. You can trust me.’
I close my eyes and bring my hands up to my temples, digging my fingers into my hairline. My head is swimming. I don’t know what to do.
It’s the soft touch of the pad of his thumb on the back of my hand that undoes me. I can’t tell him everything. He’d never believe me and it would just make him even more upset and angry if he thought I was playing games with him. But maybe I need to be honest about one thing in particular. We clearly can’t go on like this.
I open my eyes and look at him. My voice comes out as a scratchy whisper as I nod towards the other chair. ‘Sit down.’ I can’t have him this close.
There’s a flash of relief across Gil’s face, but then he sobers. I swear he knows I’m about to break his heart.
I take a deep breath and blow it out. My pulse is booming inside my ears. ‘You’re right. Everything’s not fine. Not by a long shot.’
‘What is it? Is it—?’
I hold up my hand. ‘Please … just let me get this out.’ I can hardly make sense of it myself, and I’m never going to manage if Gil interrogates me, picking my story apart. I take a moment to regroup and then I let him have it. ‘I think … I think maybe we made a mistake.’
