Sadie laughed, but dejection flickered across her face. ‘If I had even the slightest inclination to trash the place, that threat would put me right off.’
If I’d had even the slightest inclination to trash the place, the sight of Isamu – an unsmiling man with black hair pulled back severely in a man-bun and biceps which could crack walnuts – would have put me right off, no further threats required, but I didn’t mention it. I just put my hand on the small of Sadie’s back instead, in a way I hoped she would interpret as supportive.I know your sister’s still not speaking to you, but I’ve got you, Shaw.
We’d found our groove again, after the horrible Friday night fight we’d had on the way to Fiona’s. I’d spent ninety minutes sitting on Fi’s couch, barely even noticing that the twins had put onBlueyand were snuggled up on either side of me,39wallowing in my pit of guilt. Was one lone mention of my dad really all it took for me to go fullwell, actually, I think you’ll find it’sextremelydifficult to be a straight white well-connected man?
I’d planned to abase myself at Sadie’s feet and apologise, but to my great surprise she got in first. ‘I’m sorry I was such a bitch to you earlier,’ she’d murmured into my ear under the pretence of kissing my cheek when she and Fiona got back from the bar. ‘You didn’t deserve that.’
Before I could protest, she was reaching into her handbag. ‘I got you something.’
It was a book of excerpts from various Elizabethan plays, scribbled on and marked up by some previous scholar. ‘You probably have all of these already,’ she’d said, ‘but I know you love marginalia.’
Thankfully, Lex’s squeal of delight over the books Fiona had brought home for them distracted her, or she would have seen me go a brilliant shade of crimson. If Sadie ever found out how often I scribbledYESorTHISorRELATABLE CONTENTnext to passages about pining, then…
Later that night, back in our serviced apartment, she sat me down on the bed, apologised again for our huge blow-up and, after I’d apologised in return, told me to stop picking petty fights with her. ‘I know you’ve been doing it to distract me, and I appreciate the thought,’ she said, ‘but please don’t.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I’d replied, somewhere between horror and panic that she could read me that easily. If she could see I’d been doing that, what else could she see?
‘I meant what we said that night too,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to fight anymore either.’
I’d nodded. She’d half-smiled. I braced myself for what would come next – probably her saying something flippant (almost certainly an insult) to end the conversation.
But then, to my great surprise, she’d gone up on her knees and put her arms around my neck. ‘You’re a good husband, Jonah,’ she’d said. ‘I’m sorry you ended up with such a terrible wife.’
‘You’re all right, Shaw.’ I’d allowed myself to stroke her hair just once. ‘Don’t sell yourself short.’
Then I let go, because if I let myself get used to the feeling of her close to me, I would say something stupid likestay thereordon’t moveorcan I kiss youorI love youand this tender, blossoming thing between us – this last, true ceasefire – would die.
Because no matter how badly I wanted to say those things to her, I couldn’t. It would be thoughtless and selfish. If there was one lesson I had really taken away from that very first ceasefire of ours all those years ago, it was that Sadie Shaw did not feel about me the way I felt about her. She never had. For fifteen years, I’d adored her; and for fifteen years, she’d abhorred me.
I owed her so much. If I was ever going to begin to repay her for everything she’d done for me by marrying me, the best gift I could give her was not my love, but my silence. She was already miserable. Why make her even more uncomfortable?
So I said goodnight instead, and jammed three pillows between us.
It didn’t help. Every single day, no matter how high we built the wall and how clearly we set our boundaries, I woke up with her sprawled across my back.
It was getting harder and harder,40spending every second of every day with her. Sitting next to her in a café or our cupboard office or at Fiona’s dinner table or on the bed in the serviced apartment, it was unbelievably difficult not to reach out and tease a lock of her hair between my fingers and say,you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.Watching the dejection slide over her face every time she looked at her phone and there was nothing from Chess, it was painful not to put my arms around her and tell her,you can yell whatever the fuck you want at me, I’ll still love you.And all those mornings, when I woke with her pressed against me… God, it was just about impossible not to turn over, pull her closer, and make an impassioned pitch to her on the idea of properly consummating our marriage.
Thank God we had our lovely new rental lined up. I had survived some extremely difficult tests in my academic career, butnothing –nothing– had ever been as difficult as sharing a bed with my wife.
We ended up moving about a week and a half later, on, of all days, Valentine’s Day. Despite the teetering tower of our workload – we still had fifty of those fifty-two lectures to write – we took a half-day off work and met Isamu at lunchtime to pick up the keys. ‘As discussed, I’ve left the whitegoods for you,’ he said, holding open the door of the apartment for us. ‘I’ve also left—’
‘Oh my God,’ Sadie breathed.
‘—the herb garden.’
The apartment itself was empty now, all cold polished concrete floors and black strips of lighting against the white walls and ceilings, but the balcony was still alive with greenery. It was an incredible tension between order and chaos, leaves spilling wildly from plant pots organised into raked tiers with military precision.
Sadie’s face was alight as she looked at Isamu. ‘This is amazing.’
One corner of his mouth lifted slightly. ‘I saw you admiring the plants when you inspected the apartment, and I have a well-stocked kitchen garden at the vineyard already,’ he said. ‘We also have some spare outdoor furniture from Tsundoku, if that interests you. All it’s doing currently is taking up space in Satoshi’s storeroom, so you’re welcome to it.’
‘Thank you so much!’
I had no right to dislike this man, who had been nothing but extremely kind and unnecessarily generous to us. But as I watched Sadie look at him, starry-eyed – and as I watched him later, bicepsflexing as he hauled an outdoor table and chairs up the building stairs for us with no apparent effort – a green-eyed monster took up residence in my heart.
What would I say, if she came to me and said,Remember how we were going to be the Sartre and de Beauvoir of Literary Studies? I’m off to be de Beauvoir with our jacked winemaker landlord? How would it feel, sitting in his apartment while he put his hands on my wife?
‘Jonah, are you okay?’ Fiona asked, tapping on the frame of the propped-open front door. ‘You look like you’re about to be sick.’
