be distracted by messages. “I checked my phone while I was waiting for Tom to come home. There were no messages at all.”
“But if he saw it first and deleted it, the notification would disappear off your phone,” Harry said. “What if he read it on the train and deleted it straightaway?”
“But that would mean he knew I was leaving him.”
* * *
? ? ?
The moment I said it, I knew it was true. Everything fell into place, the way Tom hadn’t shouted at me, hadn’t argued. And hadn’t asked whether I was involved with anyone else.
He knew.
And since I’d left him, everything had gone wrong.
My mind raced as I thought back to the conversation that night. “I wondered why he didn’t ask why I was leaving.”
“Why did he think you were going?”
“I just told him I was unhappy. I was. He knew I was. I’d told him a hundred times.”
“Didn’t he seem surprised?”
I thought back to that day, the way Tom had reacted. “You know, he didn’t. But I thought that was because he knew I was unhappy. And since then he’s been lovely to me. I thought he’d learned a lesson when I left. That he missed me.”
The thing was that I’d been so glad to get out of the house that I hadn’t given his reaction another thought and then, as soon as I got to the hotel, all I could think about was Harry.
But now I remembered seeing the iPad in his briefcase before I left home. It was on show in his bag, like a huge red flag that was waving at me, and I hadn’t understood the significance. He must have loved that.
And then I realized something else. If Tom had been reading my e-mails, he’d know about the jobs I’d applied for. I cringed. He would have seen the contract between the landlord and me; he would know where I lived, where I worked. He’d said nothing.
I looked at Harry. I really wanted to talk to him, to tell him about the things that had happened since I’d left home. I wanted his help. But how could I trust him now?
I believed him when he said he’d e-mailed me. I should have realized he’d do that. And I could understand why he’d stayed with Emma, hard though that was to accept. But ultimately he’d let me down. He wasn’t the man I’d thought he was.
CHAPTER 61
Ruby
The next morning I woke just after six. The early-morning sun was pouring through my windows and the room was already warm. I kept my eyes closed tightly, not ready to face the day. I’d slept heavily and seemed to have stayed in one position all night. My limbs were stiff and aching, but I was too tired to move. I lay on one side and for a moment it felt as though there was a weight on the bed, as though someone was lying behind me, just inches away. In that half sleep I thought of Harry and how I’d slept in his arms that weekend we were in Paris. I’d never slept so well. Now in the dark warmth of my bed I moved just an inch backward, desperate to find him there. As I pushed back I felt something blocking me and my eyes snapped open. I sat up with a lurch. The pillows from the other side of the bed had moved down while I was sleeping and had been pressing against my back.
In the pale light I saw the door was shut tight, a dining chair wedged under the handle. It was just as I’d left it the night before, when I was too frightened to sleep without protection. I tiptoed out of the bedroom and peered over the banister at the hallway below. There was another chair pressed against the front door. Last night I had been determined that nobody would get in without disturbing me. I felt stupid now. Paranoid.
I was so grateful I didn’t have to go in to work and took a mug of coffee back to bed. As I sipped my drink I thought of Harry and wondered whether he was