I turn to Luke. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I sent her an invite.’
‘You didwhat?’
For the first time, his self-assured expression starts to falter. ‘It’s a family celebration, and she’s family … Don’t you think it’s time?’
I take a last look at my mother, twin emotions plunging into my heart like daggers, and then I back away. A few more steps and I turn and stride back towards the function room. Luke hurries after me.
‘I can’t believe you!’ I say to him in a hoarse and not particularly quiet whisper. ‘Youknowhow I feel about her! And you want her to come and celebrate our marriage? After everything she’s done? Even after that stunt she pulled at our wedding? Unbelievable!’
Luke looks perplexed, which only makes me more annoyed. I’ve been very clear about going no-contact with my mother. ‘It’s been years, Jess … And she’s sober now.’
I let out a harsh, dark laugh as my fingers close around a heftybrass handle on the outside of the doors leading back inside. ‘She’s always sober … until she isn’t!’
‘Jess … ’
I shake my head. ‘She has no right to be here. And you had no right to invite her!’
I haul the heavy door open, march straight across the dance floor, not caring how many people I bump into, through the hotel reception, and straight out the front door.
CHAPTER THREE
JESS
I summon an Uber with shaking fingers when I reach the end of the hotel drive, and stand shivering, holding on to myself, as I wait the four minutes for it to arrive. It’s chilly for mid-May and, thanks to my dramatic exit, my wrap is still in the hotel cloakroom. Thank goodness I snatched my clutch from the table in the ballroom on my way through. It’d be a long walk home otherwise.
I’m so angry. So, so angry.
HowdareLuke contact my mother without my knowledge? He knows how I feel about her. He also knowswhyI feel that way. He’s the only person I’ve opened up to in the slightest about my toxic childhood. I just don’t get it. Why, in all that is good and holy, did he think this would be okay?
Just thinking about how blindsided I felt, how the shock rippled through me like a volcanic tremor, makes my internal temperature rise, and I don’t do anything to curb it, because it’s much easier to be angry than it is to feel the other emotion that’s scratching and clawing its way to the surface.
I don’t want to feel any of these things. I want to lock myself in a grey box, with grey walls, a grey floor and a grey ceiling andto not feel any of it anymore. I want to be comfortably numb, as the song says.
The Uber arrives and I climb in the back. The driver probably thinks I’m an unfriendly bitch, because I just stare, stony-faced, straight ahead, as we drive home, ignoring his attempts at friendly chatter. I just can’t. My jaw is spasming, and it’s all I can do to clench my teeth together to stop them from chattering.
A black hole is opening up deep inside of me.
It’s small now, only a pinprick, but if I’m not careful, it’ll grow and grow and grow. And then I will fall into it, and then I won’t know who I am anymore. That can’t happen.
Luke is supposed to be my person, the one human being on this planet who will always have my back, but tonight has knocked all of that on its head. What if he isn’t? What if my husband isn’t who I think he is? The thought makes my insides swirl in cold fear.
I exit the cab swiftly, tapping on my phone to give the driver the maximum tip, and open my front door. Once inside, I ignore the light switches and head for the back of the house. I feel as if I want to hide, but property prices are high in South East London, and our house isn’t large. Our starter house. We’ve been saving for the last few years to upgrade to something with more living space downstairs and an extra bedroom. I walk through to our kitchen, which is twice the size now than it was when we bought the house.
Large French doors lead onto our courtyard garden, and I sit at the small table that overlooks the pots outside. I zone out, and I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting there when the front door bangs and I startle. My heart begins to race. If only I could close my eyes and turn invisible, just as I did when I was a child.
A shout comes from the hallway. ‘Jess?’
I don’t answer. I’m too angry with him to give him even that. It’s childish, I know.
I hear him opening doors, turning on lights. It isn’t long before he’s silhouetted against the kitchen doorway, peering into the darkness. He almost turns around again and heads upstairs but then he stops. A second later, a soft glow fills the other end of the room as he turns on the under-cabinet lighting. He walks halfway across the space but stops by the peninsula where the breakfast bar is situated.
The silence curdles around us, but eventually Luke cracks. ‘I know you’re upset … ’
I let out a sharp laugh. ‘You think?’
He tips his head slightly. ‘Yes. I think. But I didn’t think you’d be this upset. In fact, I didn’t think you’d be upset at all. Surprised, maybe. But I hoped that, underneath it all, you might be pleased.’
