Jenny’s brow furrowed. ‘Not at all!’ She thought for a moment, choosing her next words carefully. ‘Don’t hate me for putting this out there, but . . . ’ She paused. ‘Is there any chance he’s seeing someone else?’
‘It crossed my mind, but I’ve never ever worried about his loyalty. His dad cheated on his mum when he was little and he has always been so completely and utterly against guys whodo that. But he’s been funny for a couple of months now.’ She sighed.
‘But we’re going out for dinner tonight, before I head to Cornwall, so that’s something. Hopefully we can have a chat and I can figure out what’s going on.’
‘Well that’s good,’ Jenny said, rubbing her friend’s arm affectionately. ‘Don’t lose heart just yet. Maybe a bit of time apart will do you both good, have a bit of a space and see where you are. And all that lovely Cornish sea air is just what you need to recharge the batteries!’
‘Yes, exactly. Let’s hope it’s a case of absence making the heart grow fonder, rather than being out of sight and out of mind!’ Annabel quipped as she spooned sugar into her coffee. ‘Plus, it’ll be good to spend some time with Dotty and I can make a start on my writing.’
‘Sounds like a plan! What’s happening with the book?’
‘Not much!’ Annabel sighed. ‘Hence the need to make some time for it.’
She glanced at her watch then glugged down the hot, sweet coffee. ‘Time to get cracking, this lecture isn’t going to write itself!’
Several hours later, Annabel was all dressed up and ready for her dinner date with Luke, but there was no sign of him. She had been pleased when he’d suggested going out for dinner tonight; not to mention a little relieved. He had booked a table at Salvatore’s, their favourite restaurant in the early days when they had first got together. They hadn’t been there for ages.
Wanting to make an effort, Annabel had spent longer than her usual ten minutes getting ready. She’d had a long, relaxing bubble bath, spent time on her make-up and deliberatedover her outfit. Sensible little black dress or flirty red strapless number? Annabel had held them up against herself alternately as she looked in the mirror and opted for the latter. She rummaged in the back of her underwear drawer and dug out the matching red lingerie set Luke had bought her for Valentine’s Day a couple of years ago. It was time to inject a bit more passion into the relationship, she had decided; she wanted to give him something to remember while she was away.
But now there was nothing to do but wait for him. She had tried calling his mobile but he hadn’t answered. She had texted, asking where he was, but no reply. She tried to stay calm and not worry, but her mind was taking her in all sorts of directions. In the end, she switched on the television and tried to distract herself with a mindless reality show.
‘Annie, I’m so sorry!’ he called, when the front door finally opened at half past eight. ‘My phone died and I’d lent the stupid charger to Phil and he’d taken it home! Work was crazy today.’
He stopped talking as he reached the open doorway and saw her, sitting on the sofa. ‘Wow! Look at you, you look gorgeous!’ He dropped to his knees on the carpet in front of her and took her hands in his. ‘And I’m a complete shit. I’m sorry.’ He brushed her lips with his and Annabel caught a slight waft of alcohol.
She rolled her eyes dramatically but managed a smile. ‘Yes, you are,’ she said teasingly, but only half joking. ‘But I’m starving and spent ages getting ready, so go and get changed, let’s go!’
He got back up to his feet and looked at his watch doubtfully. ‘You still want to go?’
‘Of course! I’m starving and there’s nothing in the fridge. I rang Salvatore’s and managed to push the table back an hour.’ She stood up. ‘Go and get ready and I’ll book a cab. We shouldjust make it.’ She smiled up at him, determined to try to make the best of this evening despite his lateness.
He gave a long sigh. ‘To be honest, babe, I’m knackered. Can we just get a takeaway?’
Annabel’s heart sank. She had been looking forward to an evening out together before she went to Cornwall, but she didn’t want to risk rocking the boat by pushing back. ‘Sure,’ she said, forcing a smile. She went upstairs and changed back into her jeans and sweater, then dialled the number for the local pizza place.
‘You OK?’ she asked later, as they settled in front of the television. She opened the pizza box as he poured them each a glass of red wine.
‘Just tired,’ he replied with a sigh. ‘It’s been a long week. And I guess I felt a bit pressured that you wanted to go out tonight.’
Annabel screamed inside. ‘But it was your idea? I just thought it would be nice to have a date night before I went away,’ she said quietly. ‘But I’m sorry for pushing it when you weren’t in the mood.’
‘No, don’t apologise, it’s not you,’ he said, instantly backing down. He took a long swig of red wine. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just tired.’
He put on an action movie that he’d been wanting to watch. An uneasy silence filled the room as they ate.
‘Luke, is everything OK?’ she tried again, as the movie credits began to roll a couple of hours later. ‘I’m worried about you; I’m worried about us. What’s going on?’ she asked, her eyes filling with tears. ‘And please don’t tell me it’s nothing, or that I’m imagining it,’ she added gently. ‘Things have felt different for a while and I don’t think you’re happy. Is it me?’
His eyes shot up to meet hers. ‘God, no! Annie, please don’t think that!’ He sighed and reached across to hold her hand. Then he reached for his wine glass again.
‘I don’t know,’ he continued. ‘I’m just feeling under pressure.’ He paused again, struggling to find the words. ‘Like there’s this weight of expectation hanging over me.’ He ran his hand through his wavy brown hair. ‘It’s been almost five years and I love being with you. But with every birthday, Christmas or Valentine’s Day that passes, I feel this pressure from everyone around us that I should propose. My parents drop hints, your parents drop hints, our friends, neighbours, everyone!’
‘But not me!’ she countered, her brow furrowing. ‘I’m not dropping hints!’
‘No, babe, you’re not.’ He paused. ‘But it’s there, below the surface. This feeling that I’m disappointing you the more time that passes. But I don’t feel ready for it. And, to be honest, I’m not sure if I’ll ever feel ready for it. I suppose I’m feeling a bit . . . ’ he paused, looking uncomfortable, ‘trapped.’
‘Trapped?’ she repeated, stunned.
He sighed. ‘Stuff like you wanting to know where I am all the time; who I’m with, what I’m doing. I guess I’m not ready to give up my freedom and settle down.’ He used his fingers to make air quotes on the last two words.
