Desperately Seeking - By Evelyn Cosgrave Page 0,61
much I had hated the sight of him. Not for one second did I see the man standing in my doorway as anything other than a very old, very sorry mistake. I had loved him once, or thought I had. Now, there was nothing of that and I was still too angry to work out what had been left behind.
How dare he come here and think I’d want him back? How dare he tell me that what we had was special when it was only more of the same story that suave older men and foolish younger women had been playing over and over since time began? And how dare he presume to comment on what Keith and I had, let alone criticize it?
Whenever I’ve felt strong enough, I’ve wondered how I got to be in that position with Daniel – how I went from being happily in control and at ease with our scenario to a blubbering mess that couldn’t have all the things she thought she didn’t want. Somewhere along the line my expectations changed. In the beginning I had everything I desired. He was good-looking (the word ‘dashing’, however ridiculous, always seems apt); he was successful (at the very thing I was failing at); he was charming; he was passionate, although sex with him was probably never as good as I thought it was but fuelled by the most powerful thing about him – that he was forbidden. It must be the simplest and most potent aphrodisiac, but I never thought I was simple enough to be fooled by it. I used to congratulate myself on having escaped the boring norms of everyone around me. They might do the conventional thing, they might perpetuate their bourgeois existence, but not me. I would be different. I wasn’t afraid to live on the edge.
But that wasn’t the reality at all. The reality was that I spent nearly a year of my life in hiding. Hiding from my family, hiding from my friends, hiding from myself. When I look back on it I seem pathetic. I don’t know if the worst part was my arrogance in thinking I was so different from everyone else, or my weakness in failing to grasp that what I was doing was wrong in so many ways. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that it is over.
And I had escaped. Into a safe, stable relationship with a man who would look after me and never hurt me.
And I had spent the evening arguing with him. Keith was right: I should have discussed leaving work with him. I wasn’t treating him as he deserved by carrying on as if his opinion didn’t matter. And no wonder he had concerns, given the way I’d presented him with a fait accompli. I could be flighty and selfish and unthinking, and Keith deserved better. He deserved a wife as committed as he was.
So, there and then I resolved to stop mucking around and just get on with it. What was my problem? I was about to get married. I was about to embark on the next phase of my life with the man I loved. I was lucky to have so much.
By the time he came home that night I had been asleep for a few hours but I woke as he was getting into bed. He was big and safe beside me. He was everything I wanted.
The following morning I woke when he did. He had to be in work for eight so I usually just rolled over when the alarm went off. But that morning I wanted to get up with him, make him coffee, see him out the door.
‘What’s up with you this morning?’ he asked. ‘Usually a grunt is the most I can hope for at this hour.’
‘Nothing. I’m just happy.’ He looked puzzled so I added, ‘You don’t have to worry about me, you know. I’m not as dumb as I look.’
‘Don’t play that game, Kate, it doesn’t suit you.’
‘What do you mean?’ I’d been quite pleased with myself and my airy tone.
‘You know.’
‘What?’
‘Kate, you’re not dumb at all but sometimes you’ll happily play the fool. I don’t like it.’
I was more than a little put out. That was not how I’d intended the morning to go. ‘I only meant,’ I said, ‘that you don’t have to worry about me. I love you. Everything will be fine. Trust me.’
He softened. ‘OK.’
‘Anyway,’ I said, ‘I wanted to check with you about the house appointments today.’