I stared straight ahead, trying to keep a hold on my emotions. “I’m thinking I’ve barely spoken two words to my husband in months because he’s always working late. Tonight would have been another night you were late home and I’m suddenly realizing it’s not because of work. It’s because you’re having flirty conversations with a girl ten years younger than your wife.”
“That’s not even… that’s ridiculous,” he huffed, sounding exhausted.
“Tonight it was the truth.” I turned to look at him as the doors to lift opened. “Tonight would have been more time away from me and Belle, and for what? To talk with Ally?”
He stared at me, a spark of guilt there. “I never thought of it that way. I’m sorry. But we were talking about work. I promise. It’s nothing more than that, Jo.”
Chest aching as I realized how badly the growing distance between us had impacted on me I suddenly wanted to bury my head in the sand. “Let’s just go eat.” I strode out of the lift and Cam followed me outside. We were quiet as we waited for a cab to come along with its light on. Once we found one we got inside and I gave the driver our destination.
“La Cour?” Cam said, surprised. La Cour was a restaurant that Braden once owned years ago. He’d sold it to a chef friend of his and it had gone from popular to Michelin star popular. It was incredibly difficult to get a reservation.
“Joss and Braden got us it.”
“This was really nice of you, sweetheart.” I felt his warm hand slide into mine and I let him hold my hand, but I didn’t hold his.
He squeezed me, attempting to thaw me. “Who did you get to look after Belle?”
“Uncle Mick.”
“I’m looking forward to being alone with you.”
I didn’t say a word and he laced his fingers through mine, his grip tightening. “It’ll be nice,” I managed to wheeze out.
The silent tense atmosphere between us was almost hard to breathe in and it lasted all the way to the restaurant, until we were seated inside La Cour and were eating our starters.
Cam’s phone beeped on the table beside his plate as we ate. I watched him beneath my lashes as he picked it up and frowned at whatever he read.
“What is it?”
He flicked me a wary look. “Nothing.”
My pulse started to race faster than the already rapid speed it was going at. “If it’s nothing you’ll let me see it.” I held out my hand to him.
Cam glowered at me as he passed it over. “I’ve got nothing to hide from you, sweetheart. Stop treating me like a criminal.”
I took the phone off him and stared at his screen.
It was a text from Ally: Your wife seemed mad at us. Are you okay?
My temper started to rise and I flicked through his past conversations with her. I was only somewhat mollified by the fact that they were all work related and not flirtatious.
I handed him his phone back. “You don’t think that text is inappropriate? Since when are you and she an ‘us’?”
He put his phone away. “I do think it’s inappropriate, that’s why I’m not replying.”
“She’s flirting with you.”
“I won’t encourage it.”
“I guess that’s not the point anymore.” I shook my head in disgust, angry that he was oblivious to how shipwrecked our relationship was at the moment.
Something like alarm entered his expression at my tone. “Jo,” he leaned over the table, trying to reach for my hand but I pulled back, “You’re getting worked up over nothing.”
Nothing? Did he honestly not see what was going on here?
I threw my napkin on the table and stood up, my chair scraping loudly along the hardwood floors. “I’m not in the mood for Valentine’s Day after all. I’ll see you back home.”
“Jo.” He stood up, reaching for my arm and missing as I fled the restaurant.
I felt sick.
Absolutely sick.
I got in a taxi, trembling the whole way to London Road. Once inside the flat I looked around at the familiar space, the place we’d lived in together for over a decade.
My gaze locked on Belle’s doll. It was draped across the armchair. Her cartoon DVDs were scattered across the floor in front of the television.
I wanted my daughter in my arms so much it hurt.
I wanted to breathe her in and take comfort from her.
Because my home didn’t feel familiar right now. It felt cold and lonely and missing its familiar beauty.
The front door slammed and I heard Cam’s heavy, fast strides as he walked down the hallway. He appeared in the doorway to the sitting room, his tall frame taking up an intimidating amount of space. His expression was as black as midnight.
“What the fuck was that?” he snapped.
“Do you not want to be with me anymore?” I said, warm, salty tears slipping quietly down my cheeks at the utterance of my fear.
My husband looked at me incredulously as he took a step toward me. I waved a hand at him, warding him off and he frowned, halting. “Where is this coming from?”
“Did you know Dee had a breast cancer scare a month ago?”
He blinked rapidly at the dramatic turn in conversation. “No.”
“No.” I shook my head, curling my lip in disdain. “Of course you wouldn’t because every time I try to have a conversation with you, you blow me off to take a phone call from either the office or a client. Any tiny miniscule of free time you have you spend with Belle and that’s fine because she’s more important… but it’s like you don’t even care that we haven’t had a real conversation in months or that you haven’t touched me in six weeks. Nothing but a perfunctory kiss on the lips before you leave for work in the morning. Almost like a habit rather than a desire.”