lying here together, arms and legs entwined in post-coital satisfaction. A car door slammed outside, but it barely registered in my mind. I knew that any minute now the front door could open and I would be exposed, but still I couldn’t move. It was as though every muscle in my body was invested in keeping me in this very place at this very time. Let them find me here. Who would have more explaining to do?
But the door didn’t open. No one came in.
The woman in the mirror watched with detached interest as the woman on the bed slid her thumbs into the loose elastic of the satin underwear, hitching it down ever so slightly, enough to slide her fingers underneath, and began to rub automatically, rhythmically. Her lips parted, her breathing quickened as the pressure of her fingers increased. They moved faster now, more urgently, and the woman in the mirror closed her eyes at the same time as the woman on the bed threw her head back and let the climax flow through her, more of a gentle wave than a crash, but exhilarating and exhausting all the same.
When my eyes opened, everything felt wrong. I didn’t know how long I’d been there, asleep in the bed they shared in the house he owned, but I knew I shouldn’t be there any longer. I wasn’t ready to face this situation yet; I wasn’t strong enough. But I felt like I could be.
I closed the door behind me, leaving his other life on the inside. I was walking slowly, but my steps were lighter now, as if part of me had stayed there on that smoothed-down double bed. In the car, I lifted a hand to my ear, touched the small diamond. As I put the car into gear and pulled away, I hesitated in the road to let another vehicle out. The woman from the mirror didn’t even lift a hand in thanks.
26
Eleanor
It had been a bad idea born of desperation: date night. Eleanor had suggested it and Adam had played along, although it had been clear he’d been terrified at the idea of having to sit across a table from his wife and make small talk that didn’t include who-said-what-to-whom and who-started-it. They’d arrived home so early that even her mother looked surprised to see them, walking through the door sober and serious rather than falling through like giggling teenagers the way they had in the old days.
Adam had offered almost instantly to take her mum home, and Eleanor had allowed herself to think for a second that he might be trying to get rid of her so they could snuggle up on the sofa, maybe stick on a film or one of the few programmes they both enjoyed. The reality of the situation had hit, however, when he’d announced as he was heading out of the door that he might as well pop into Chris’s on the way home; he’d promised to look at his computer and if he was going to be out anyway …
Eleanor refused to cry.
She was in bed trying to grab at any sleep she could get before Noah woke in a hungry rage when she heard Adam’s key turn in the front door. Fumbling for her phone, her eyes stung at the bright light it emitted, and it took her a few seconds to register the time: 12.45. Over three hours since he’d taken her mother home and gone to fix his friend’s computer. What had taken him so long? She lay awake waiting for him, but instead of coming straight to bed, she heard the bathroom door open and the sound of the shower running. A shower, at this time of night? He’d be up in a few hours anyway, and he usually showered first thing in the morning. When he eventually pushed open the bedroom door, he looked surprised to see her awake.
‘Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to wake you. How have the boys been?’
‘Fast asleep,’ she replied neutrally. ‘Computer all fixed?’
There was a slight pause before he replied. ‘Oh yeah, we got a bit carried away talking – well, Chris was moaning actually. You know what he’s like.’
She didn’t, having only met Chris a couple of times in their six-year relationship, but she said nothing. She didn’t want another row tonight.
Adam slipped into bed next to her and instinctively she moved in closer, snuggling her warmth against his cold body. He responded, letting her into his arms