ML Roberts - The Wife – Part Three - In Sickness and In Health

I throw back my head and breathe in deeply – once, twice, each time exhaling slowly. I try to do this sometimes, these breathing exercises, to try and control the panic that often builds up inside of me. Because of what happened that night. But those exercises don’t always work. That night affected me too much, damaged me too much. The bruises may have healed, but the emotional pain is still raw. Every time I close my eyes I can still feel the punches and the kicks, I can still see her face …

I pull myself to my feet and head back inside. Michael’s talking to a group of his friends from the squash club, but he glances over – a glance so brief I almost miss it. He’s making sure I’m okay, that’s all. He needs me to be okay.

‘Ellie, come and tell us all about the new spa you’re planning to open.’

Claire’s voice cuts through my thoughts and I look at her, forcing a smile onto my face. Talking about work is always a welcome distraction, so I start to tell my friends about my new business venture, losing myself in talk of facials and massages as I try to pretend everything is normal. It’s only when I glance up and see Liam watching me from across the room, when he smiles at me and I feel something burn up inside of me, that I know nothing’s normal. I don’t think it ever will be again.

I leave my friends chatting happily about the prospect of a free spa day that I have just mentioned, and I go back into the kitchen. A small glass of wine isn’t going to hurt. My head feels clearer now I’ve come back indoors.

Sipping my wine, I stand against the archway that separates the kitchen from the family area of Claire and Ed’s spacious open-plan living space. Perfect for parties. Even those I don’t want to be a part of. I used to love parties. I loved being around people, but now I find their pity and their questions too much. And yet, being alone scares me. I don’t like my own company for too long. I’ve never felt vulnerable before, but I do now. And I hate that feeling.

I look around; I’m searching for Michael but I can’t see him anywhere. Maybe he’s gone outside, I don’t know. I’m not even sure I care. I’m so tense tonight, I’m finding it harder than usual to keep this charade going. So, when Liam’s eyes meet mine once more from across the room, I allow myself a smile – a smile he returns. I know Liam well. I’ve known him longer than I’ve known Michael, but Michael doesn’t know that. We never told him that we knew each other before. That we’d slept together before, a long time ago. Liam didn’t think it was important that Michael knew, he didn’t think it mattered. But now that Liam is suddenly such a big part of my life, in a way I never expected he would be – does it matter?

I look away and take another sip of wine. For some reason there’s a knot of excitement unravelling in my stomach now. One that seems to unravel much faster as I catch sight of Liam laughing at something Ed’s said. And then he turns his head and his eyes meet mine again. Another smile. But his eyes are saying something else now. And I get the message.

I drag a hand through my hair, make my way back into the room. I start a conversation with Katie, Ed and Claire’s neighbour. Something about a holiday she’s just returned from, but I don’t know where. I’m only half listening.

He’s moved closer now. I can smell his cologne, I know it’s him. Glancing outside, I catch sight of Michael on the terrace, deep in conversation with some of his university colleagues.

For a few more minutes I give Katie my full attention. It was Thailand, the holiday she’s just returned from. And I listen as she tells me of the food she tried, the full moon party she attended, the stunning hotel she and her partner stayed in. I listen, but all the time I’m aware of Liam almost touching me. His hip gently nudges mine, his hand accidently brushes my bottom as he slides past me and I feel my heart start to race as I look back outside, at Michael. A man who doesn’t touch me that way anymore. A man who doesn’t want me, like that, anymore.

We’ve been joined by another of Claire’s neighbours now, so I excuse myself from the conversation, back away a little, deliberately knocking into Liam, hard enough for him to get what’s happening here. He drops his hand and it catches mine, just briefly, but long enough for him to gently squeeze my fingers before he quickly pulls his hand away. He knows what’s happening. Liam knew what I needed before. He knows again now. We both do.

He resumes his conversation with Ed, but I know he’s watching me as I leave the room and make my way upstairs. It’s much quieter here. There are three bathrooms in Ed and Claire’s house so it’s not like there’s hordes of people hanging around up on the landing.

Leaning back against the wall beside the main bathroom door I take a second to think about what I’m doing here. What am I doing here? Is this nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction to the way Michael’s making me feel tonight? Am I drunk? Not thinking straight? It might be all three, but right now I don’t care, I’m just tired of feeling empty and alone. I need something that actually makes me feel like I exist.

I hear him bounding up the stairs. I know it’s him, and I smile. He’s keeping a safe distance between us, just in case anyone else is around … He pushes open the bedroom doors, looking inside each one of them to check that no one is there. I think we’re alone, but glance through the corridors once again to make sure. Just one more room to check. The bathroom.

He edges past me, drops his hand and slips it into mine as he nudges open the bathroom door, checks to make sure it’s empty. And without looking at me he pulls me inside, kicks the door shut behind him, slamming me back against the tiled wall before I have a chance to take another breath. And it hurts. The pain is real, but it’s what I need, I need to feel something. Because for months I’ve felt numb, a continuous dull ache. But right now, I feel everything .

My heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest, banging against my ribs as I look at him – right into his steel-grey eyes. I want him. I want this . And he knows that.

The corner of his mouth edges up into a smirk and I gasp quietly as he slides both hands up under my dress, his fingers trailing so lightly over my skin they’re barely touching it. I can’t breathe, but I like the feeling, and as he grabs hold of my underwear, ripping it off in one rough yank, the sound of the flimsy material tearing echoes around the empty bathroom. I feel dizzy, excited, sick with nerves. This is wrong, I know it’s wrong. My husband is downstairs, right now; he’s just a flight of stairs away but it’s because of him I’m doing this. He won’t touch me. Won’t talk to me. It’s his fault, he drove me here. Doesn’t he understand? I need this .

Liam presses a hand against the side of my neck, gently pushing my head back, just a touch. I groan quietly as his lips graze the base of my throat; as his fingers stroke my skin, dig into my thigh. My skin feels like it’s on fire, I’m burning up. I want all of this and so much more, I don’t want him to stop.

He cups my bottom, lifts me up and I wrap my legs around him. I want to see him as he pushes inside me but, as his mouth touches mine, my eyes start to close. He’s kissing me, gently at first. A once-familiar kiss. Back then it was okay, for him to do this, to kiss me. To fuck me. Now it’s dangerous. Now it’s wrong, but he’s making me feel again, with every fibre of my being. I need Liam to be the one I take my frustration out on, to be the person I use to vent my pain and anger, I need him. And I want him. God help me …