Page 39 of You Were Always the One

‘Just a bit.’ More than a bit, if I’m honest. ‘One step at a time, Emma. We agreed we were starting divorce proceedings. I spoke to a lawyer. Remember?’

‘We could always stop it.’ She looks at me sideways. ‘Don’t you remember, Rigby? We used to be so good together.’ She lays a hand on her belly.

And yes, of course I remember. That’s what got me into this mess. But that was then. ‘Like I said. One step at a time. You can move into the spare room, and we’ll see how it goes.’ I pause. ‘But I don’t think either of us should have any illusions about our relationship.’

‘Fuck’s sake, Rigby.’ Emma looks annoyed. ‘Can’t you sound more enthusiastic than that?’ Her eyes widen. ‘Sorry. I had no right to say that.’

‘You really didn’t,’ I say pointedly. ‘But I’m just beginning to get used to us getting divorced. I wasn’t expecting this.’

‘I know.’ She looks suitably subdued. ‘But do you think there’s any chance that maybe this is a blip we can get over? It’s the beginning of our family. I really want us to do this – and you did say you’d do everything you can to support me.’ She looks at me anxiously.

‘I did.’ As blips go, this is quite a massive one. ‘Emma, living platonically together is one thing. But there were reasons it didn’t work out between us. It’s why we’ve agreed to divorce.’ It doesn’t help that at precisely the wrong moment, Holly comes into my head. But I banish her. This, with Emma, with our baby inside her, this is my real life. ‘Where are you living at the moment?’ I ask.

‘It isn’t about that.’ Her cheeks colour just enough to give her away. ‘Don’t you want us to do this?’

I fold my arms. ‘Before you left, you belittled our marriage, as well as me – and my writing career. Forgive me, but I want to know if there’s some other reason for this massive turnaround.’

She’s silent. Then, raising her head, she looks at me properly. ‘I know what I said about being a single mother.’ She hesitates. ‘Fuck. I may as well tell you. I suppose I’m scared.’

Leaning forward, I rest my head in my hands. I’m no genius at relationships, but the truth is, I haven’t seen her this vulnerable before. More than that, I feel for her. I look at her. ‘Am I right in deducing you don’t actually have anywhere to live?’

‘Not yet. But I’m looking for somewhere. I just thought…’ She tails it off.

‘Christ, Emma.’ I shake my head. But given we’re being honest, I have to say it. ‘You know, I agreed with what you said before you left – most of it, at least. I think we both came to the same conclusion about our future as a couple.’ As she opens her mouth to protest, I hold up my hand. ‘Let me finish. But as I said, of course, you can move back in. You can have the spare room.’

She looks relieved. ‘I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.’

‘What about your stuff?’

‘I need to collect it,’ she says. Coming over, she kisses me on the cheek. ‘Thank you,’ she whispers.

As she goes out to her car, my mind is all over the place. Emma knows me well enough. After all, it isn’t difficult; I’m pretty transparent. She would have known that faced with the helpless pregnant ex-wife, I wouldn’t have the heart to turn her away. As I go upstairs to get my stuff out of the spare room, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve been played.

And so I make the only decision I can: to throw myself back into our sort-of married life. After all, with our divorce far from finalised, it’s still married life, one that’s soon to be blessed with our firstborn. I should be excited, elated, planning for the future. But in the evening, after Emma goes to bed, much though I’m looking forward to being a parent, my emotions are subdued.

I put it down to the strangeness of the situation I find myself in, that we’ve swung from amicable divorce to the bizarreness of platonic living together. It isn’t until later in the evening, after pouring myself a glass of whisky, that I’m honest with myself. Even though this baby means more than anything else, it doesn’t stop me thinking about Holly and me.

13

HOLLY

As if the insanity and uncertainty of my world are not enough, the night before Miles comes home, things ramp up when Riggs texts me.

Hey. I’ve been thinking about you. xx

My body sighs and tightens at the same time. There’s enough going on in my life without Riggs complicating things further. I text him back.

It’s a really, really shit time x

A few minutes later, he messages back.

Can I call you?

I check where my children are, before going into the kitchen and closing the door. Calling Riggs, I wait for him to answer.

‘Hi,’ he says. ‘What’s going on?’

‘It’s Miles,’ I say. ‘I’ve just found out he’s sick.’ I pause. ‘He has a brain tumour.’