‘You’ll do it,’ Rachel said firmly.
‘I wish I had your confidence.’
‘Oh you do, Kate, you do. You just don’t know it yet.’
Would Pete be proud of me? Kate wondered, lying in bed that night and staring at the empty space next to her. Would he be impressed with how she was handling herself? At the worst possible point of her life she was finally starting to feel like herself again which made no sense to her at all. Perhaps none of this was real and she was just in survival mode which would make her crash and burn when the adrenaline wore off. She hoped not, she had to keep it together. Perhaps she should see a counsellor to work through some of her baggage. If she had got help earlier and started to build herself back up again would this have happened? She couldn’t have stopped him meeting this woman but perhaps he wouldn’t have been tempted by her if things were happier at home. Or perhaps it would have happened anyway – maybe their marriage had simply run its course.
While she was still furious and hurt at the way Pete had betrayed her, she realised that she didn’t feel jealous of this other woman anymore. She had at first, she’d felt it with an animal-like rage, but now she’d had time to calm down she was, in an odd way, pleased that Pete had found someone who made him happy. Clearly she didn’t anymore and he certainly hadn’t made her happy for a long time. They hadn’t had sex in what felt like years and they didn’t enjoy being around each other that much either. She loved him, yes, but not in the way she should. Had they just stayed together out of habit because they couldn’t remember any different?
If only we could have talked about it, she thought, perhaps I could have had time to calm down and we could have parted friends. Or perhaps not. She would have given him a hard time, she knew it. Maybe that’s why he’d decided to leave the way he did and the knowledge that it was her doing was a guilt she’d have to live with for the rest of her life. The saddest thing was, it was the children who were going to suffer from her mistakes. But she was going to make damn sure that she made it up to them, and that meant being the best mum they could ever have.
12
Pete
Pete inhaled deeply on his e-cigarette and leaned back against the headboard, watching the tiny, pathetic little wisp of vapour waft up to the ceiling. It was nowhere near as good as the real thing but he still enjoyed the occasional hit of nicotine and he was no longer in his carefree, invincible twenties when smoking a pack of Marlboro Lights on a night out and reeking of fags was acceptable. And anyway, post-coital indulgences were restricted to devices that didn’t set off smoke alarms now. Even his vices had become boring, what a depressing thought.
He turned to look at Claire, who was lying on her side, propped up on her elbow, watching him with an indulgent look. She was one vice that was definitely not boring. Christ, he’d missed that look. The last time he’d had sex with Kate, however long ago that was, she was sitting up and reading her Kindle within seconds of him pulling out. He couldn’t believe that their affair had already been going on for six months, yet at the same time it had become a way of life for him and he could barely remember what it had been like before. He knew he should feel bad about it and some days he did but today wasn’t one of them. After a difficult day in the office, followed by a series of passive aggressive texts from Kate about forgetting to put the bins out and generally being a terrible husband, he needed something to cheer himself up.
Despite his sneaking around, he had managed to avoid arousing any suspicion in Kate. He and Claire never called each other, they weren’t friends on social media and he checked his clothes meticulously for lipstick or the scent of perfume every time he left her. They left work separately, only meeting again when they got to Claire’s flat and other than that cheeky night away last month they never went out, instead holing themselves up in the flat, eating deli food or takeaways, drinking wine, chatting, having sex. And life was good.
He still knew deep down that it was wrong – all the time at first and then more intermittently as time went on – but he was starting to think that this was actually a good thing. Kate wasn’t interested in having sex with him but she was very interested in him being a good husband. And he was actually a BETTER husband now. He was happier, more attentive to her, eager to talk about the banality of her boring day every evening and taking the kids to their weekend classes and activities without complaint. He even made it through a dinner party with that ghastly woman Nadia and her boring-as-fuck husband, cooking some delicious steaks, charming them with his wit and acting every inch the perfect husband. He knew Kate had been pleased because afterwards she had come up behind him as he was doing the washing up and wrapped her arms around him, merry on wine and a successful evening of hosting. Yes, he told himself, this is actually a good thing, everyone is happy, I’m doing no harm. I love two women but I’m only in love with one. And if life had continued like that, who knows how long it could have gone on for.
But after Oxfordshire his and Claire’s relationship
