for you?’
He almost wishes she would cry and throw things, but she’s so angry, and so cold, he’s certain that she’s already made the decision to kick him out. He can’t explain it. He’d tried, in marriage counselling, but had failed. He wants to explain it now, but he can’t find the words.
‘I’ve had enough, Niall. I think you should leave.’
‘No!’ It comes out as a strangled protest. ‘No, Nancy, please. Please give me another chance.’
‘You can move into that cheap little apartment in Newburgh, with her. I’m sure you’ll both be very happy. Or not. I don’t care.’
He lurches off the armchair and sinks to his knees in front of her. He’s shaking his head. ‘I don’t want her. She’s nothing to me. I want to be here, with you. I love you, Nancy. I want to be here with you and Henry. Please don’t ask me to leave. I’ll never see her again. I swear.’
Then she begins to cry, and he does too. Afterwards they sit in silence for a long time. Darkness falls.
Finally Nancy says, ‘I want you to call her, now, and tell her you’ll never see her again.’
‘Sure, of course,’ he says eagerly. He takes his cell phone out of his pocket and calls Erica. His heart is pounding loudly. He holds the cell phone up to his ear.
Erica answers. ‘Hello.’
‘Erica,’ Niall says. ‘It’s Niall. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to see you any more.’
‘Afraid of your wife, are you?’ her voice is scathing.
‘I love her.’
‘Sure you do.’
He disconnects the call. He can tell his wife has heard it all. He looks at her tentatively. ‘What now?’ Niall asks.
‘I’ll think about it,’ Nancy says. She stands up and adds, ‘You can sleep in the spare room for now – until I decide what to do.’ She exits the room, leaving Niall holding his head in his hands.
Erica wants to throw her cell phone against the wall. She stops herself just in time. She’s just been humiliated. She didn’t see that coming, not until Niall’s wife showed up at her door this afternoon. Of course she knew Niall wouldn’t want to disrupt his family. What she hadn’t expected was for his wife to find out about them, at least not so quickly. How had he let himself get caught? How had he allowed himself to be followed? How stupid can a man be? Did the idiot want to get caught?
Now she can’t get money from him for her silence.
Lately, nothing is going the way she expected. She tells herself that she must have patience. These things take time. But patience has never been her strong suit.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
PATRICK KEEPS PLAYING his last conversation with Erica – late that night in her apartment – over and over again in his mind. Sometimes, these days, his hands shake. Stephanie has noticed. She keeps asking him if he’s all right, if he’s keeping anything from her, if he’s heard any more from Erica. But he hasn’t, and neither has she. He’s not foolish enough to think she’s simply given up and gone away – not any more.
Stephanie is a wreck too. Her face is drawn and she drags herself around the house as if every movement is an effort. He’s seen her start at every unexpected sound, even something as innocent as the mail dropping through the letterbox. She’d told him what Hanna said – that Erica had been looking at the house for sale on their street. It has unnerved her. It has unnerved both of them, which he’s sure was her intention, but they both know she can’t be seriously interested in the house – can she?
They’re both going a little stir-crazy. Patrick realizes that they haven’t been out of the city much at all since the twins were born. Before Stephanie was pregnant, they used to hike the trails on the weekends and cycle regularly. Then, when Stephanie was pregnant, they’d talked about attaching baby seats to their bikes and cycling through the Catskills, as if having babies would be a mere hiccup. They’d had no idea how profoundly their lives would change. The idea of cycling with the twins in infant bicycle seats had been unrealistic. They hadn’t realized what having twins would be like, and they hadn’t expected colic, which has knocked them both sideways. Now all they want to do is sleep when they get the chance.
‘Stephanie,’ Patrick says at breakfast on Saturday morning. ‘Why don’t we pack a picnic and leave the