‘One hundred and fifty pounds.’ She stared at him. ‘One hundred and fifty pounds!’
‘Jesus!’ He put his hand over his mouth as emotion flared, partly in delight and a little overwhelmed by the generous gift his girl had received, but also because anyone looking in through the window would see a normal scene: a husband and wife at the kitchen table, chatting, catching up ... He had dreamed of mornings like this.
‘She said she might get her bike fixed up. I know she’s been hankering after a basket for a while now.’
‘I’m so pleased for her!’ He meant it, caring less that the cash had come from Old Lady Kelleway – money was money. ‘She deserves it.’
‘I love you, Marty.’
Her words were like nectar for his soul! They warmed him and filled him right up. Placing her mug on the tabletop, she let her fingers move slowly towards his hand until they came to rest on the back of his. He placed his other hand on top and loved the feeling, the contact, skin to skin, which had been missing for the longest time. She was trembling and it tore at his heart; his beautiful, wounded wife.
‘It’s important you know it, Marty, and how much ... how much I value you. Appreciate you.’
‘And I ...’ He coughed to clear the emotion that pulled his words taut. ‘I love you too, Lis, I really do.’
‘Don’t cry.’ She scooted her chair until it was next to his and laid her arm across his back. ‘Don’t cry, my Marty.’
‘I miss you!’ He hadn’t meant to let it out, hadn’t meant to give in to the emotion he kept in check most of the time, but that wasof little consideration now as the tsunami of feelings erupted from him. It was as if for the last three years, he’d had the taps that kept his feelings at bay turned tightly off and now they’d been loosened there was nothing he could do to stop the torrent of his inner thoughts, hurts and worries cascading from him.
‘I miss me too and I hate that you’re holding the fort, doing it all.’
‘I don’t care about that.’ He spoke the truth, wiping his nose. ‘I just wish I could make things better for you, make you happy.’
‘It’s not about me being happy.’ She spoke slowly, and he could see by her pained expression that to say this out loud was a big deal. ‘It’s about me being less sad. Less ...’
‘Less what, love?’ This opportunity to talk was rare and he wanted to extract every drop from it.
‘Less preoccupied with the things that drag me down, that drown me. Because that’s what it feels like. It’s like drowning every day, and waking each morning knowing this is what is waiting for me is exhausting, depressing.’ She gave a wry smile at her choice of words.
‘I can imagine. Tell me what I can do to make it easier, make it better, help you stay afloat?’ He grabbed her analogy and went with it.
‘You do it all already. You take the running of the house on board, the everyday stuff – like the laundry, making supper – all of that, and just knowing I don’t have to think about it, that’s huge, it frees my mind to ...’
‘Frees it to concentrate on not drowning.’
‘Yes.’ She looked into his eyes and he saw her sadness. ‘But something happened to me last night.’
‘What?’ He felt a knot of anxiety flare at what she may have been through. ‘What happened?’
‘I think the only way to describe it is that the scales were removed from my eyes. Something that has jump-started my recovery, made me want to get better.’
‘Okay.’ He had no idea what she meant but was simply glad that they were talking at all and that she was opening up. He could mine for the detail another time.
‘And it was like I realised that all good things come to an end. And that’s that!’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘All good things come to an end, and it doesn’t make them any less wonderful to experience, it just makes them part of your journey, something that shapes you, but you have to find a life after. And you have to learn how to forgive. You have to learn how to forgive yourself, don’t you think?’
‘I do.’ He paused, again treading carefully in both tone and content. ‘And this ... this realisation has made you feel better?’
‘I didn’t wake up feeling depressed, Marty. It isn’t an overnight thing and I know I won’t wake up tomorrow feeling full of the joys of spring, but I know that wanting to change how I live, how I think, how I feel, is a huge step towards recovery and I’m determined. So determined to really work at it. Just the fact that I feel able is a huge breakthrough.’
He could barely contain his joy at hearing her thoughts. ‘That is ... the best thing you could say. I can’t tell you how proud I am of you right now, but I don’t want to pressure you or set any unrealistic timescales or expectations; just the idea that you are getting back on track, that things might change, could change, it’s wonderful, Lis, it’s wonderful!’
‘It is wonderful, and when I’m feeling better, when I’ve sorted out my messed-up head, when I’m feeling stronger, there are things I need to tell you, things we need to discuss, that I hope will help us start over. It will be a fresh start, or a clean end, whichever you choose.’ She caught her breath. ‘But I hope, I really, really hopethat you can learn forgiveness too, because I love you, Marty. I just love you.’
Oh God! This was it! This was the moment he had been both dreading and rehearsing for the longest time. His mouth felt dry with nerves and his leg jumped under the table.
‘Are you going to tell me about your affair with Lawrence?’ He spoke softly, slowly.
It felt odd, to say out loud the words that had rattled around in his head for the longest time, the words that wrenched him from sleep and had the power to sap him of joy on the sunniest of days. A mental lesion that never fully healed. He watched as she opened her mouth to speak, but it seemedherwords were in short supply as shock only allowed a squeak from her mouth.
