Tears prick my eyes. Alex stares at the necklace and then at me. He looks as shocked as I am. Was that an accident? Surely, he didn’t mean to break it?
Then he about-turns purposefully, and marches towards the bathroom. I leap up and race after him. The bathroom door slams in my face as I get there.
‘Alex, that belonged to my mum,’ I shout at the closed door. ‘Alex—’ I am aware that I’m wailing now ‘—that was my mother’s necklace.’
I fall to the floor, sobbing.
I’m not sure how long I lie there, but when Alex emerges, he’s wearing only his boxer shorts. He helps me to my feet. He’s gentle now, and the expression on his face is dispassionate.
‘I’ll get it fixed,’ he says, guiding me into the bathroom.
I watch, incredulous, as he opens my washbag, squeezes toothpaste onto my toothbrush and closes my hand around the handle. I see his reflection in the mirror and, catching my eye, he gives me the ghost of a rueful smile. Then he turns and goes back into the bedroom, closing the bathroom door softly and leaving me inside.
I clean my teeth and pee. It can’t have taken me long, but when I get back into the bedroom, I can hear Alex’s light snoring. He’s curled up in bed.
I struggle out of my wedding dress, only just able to reach the zip at the back. I didn’t bring any nightclothes – this was to be our wedding night, after all. So I climb into bed in my underwear.
Alex has his back towards me. I lie on my back with my hands on my tummy feeling our baby kick, more softly this time. Tears roll down my cheeks. We’ve never gone to sleep side by side like this before. We’ve always kissed and said goodnight, even on the evenings we haven’t made love, and then we’ve fallen asleep either holding hands or with me in Alex’s arms.
I don’t dream about Louisa that night. Or about Kevin. Or anyone or anything else. I don’t sleep at all. All I can think as the tears flow out from behind my closed eyelids is that our marriage hasn’t been consummated.
In the middle of the night, I suddenly become aware of heavy breathing. I turn towards the stranger lying next to me, thinking I may have woken him up with my sobbing, but then I realise with shock that I am the one who is panting. I force myself to take deep breaths as my heartbeat races.
Although we went to bed late, the night seems long. And yet I don’t want it to end.
From: [email protected]
Sent: Fri, 11 Nov 2016 at 07:55
Subject: COMMUNI-KATE WITH ME?
Dear Katie,
Clearly, you have taken my last email very badly. I’m sorry if you took offence at what I said. I don’t think you interpreted what I wrote in the way I meant it. I didn’t bring up my exes in order to make you jealous or to make you feel you have to compete with other women in my life. Firstly, they’re not in my life anymore, and secondly, you would win anyway! Hands down! No contest!
I’m happy to discuss this further if you want to, but I think it’s just a misunderstanding. Maybe our emotions are spiralling a little out of control after the wonderful night we spent together. We’re overreacting and seeing things that simply aren’t there.
Shall we ring or FaceTime soon? Far better to communicate that way. That’s if you still want to talk to me. Emails are completely devoid of tone, so it’s easy to read too much into casual remarks that are really intended only as jokes.
I love you, and I hope to hear from you soon,
Alexxx
~
Alex sleeps soundly until about half past nine the following morning, and when he wakes up, he reaches out for me and puts his arms around me. I feel wooden and cold in his embrace. He kisses the top of my head.
‘I’m sorry if I upset you,’ he says.
I open my mouth to object to the ‘if’, but I stop myself in time.
Instead I say, ‘I’m sorry, too.’
‘I think I had one too many,’ he offers by way of an explanation. ‘It was an emotional day.’
Hannah’s words as I was applying the mascara yesterday echo in my head. She’d predicted – correctly – that I’d cry yesterday. I should have realised then that it would all affect Alex, too.
He gets out of bed and stretches. He’s still wearing only his boxers and as I gaze in admiration at his toned body, I can feel myself thawing.
‘’S’OK,’ I mumble.
He pecks my cheek and heads for the bathroom. And just like that, peace returns. It seems trivial all of a sudden, almost as if we didn’t fall out. I’m left feeling I’ve made last night’s disagreement out to be far worse than it really was.
When he has showered, Alex reappears in the doorway, drying his dark curls with a white towel. He has another one around his waist.
‘Shall we walk home?’ he asks.
‘How far is it?’
As soon as the words have left my mouth, I regret asking the question. Alex has discouraged me from doing any sport since I’ve moved in with him. I like running, swimming and cycling, although, unlike Alex, I’ve never been tempted to try out any of those activities competitively, but apart from the walk we went on together when I first arrived in the Lake District, I’ve hardly been out.
Alex even expressed his disapproval a few weeks ago when I walked the short distance into the village of Grasmere. I know he’s concerned about me, but lately I’ve been feeling cooped up.
‘About four miles. Part of it is along the same paths we took when we did the Coffin Trail the first weekend you were here.’ Alex is standing at the mirror in the bathroom, the door wide open, and I watch him rub moisturising cream into his face. ‘We both brought casual clothes,’ he continues. ‘Have you got some decent shoes?’ He doesn’t pause for me to answer. ‘I could pick up our stuff later. It would certainly help clear my head.’
I’m not sure if he means he’s hungover or if he still needs to get our argument out of his system.
‘And it would save us paying for a taxi,’ he adds, as if he’s trying to win me over and that will clinch the deal.
‘Alex, I think walking home is a great idea.’
‘Hmm. On second thought … it wouldn’t be good for the baby.’
‘Alex, the baby’s fine.’
As if to confirm this, the baby pushes my tummy, ever so faintly, from inside.
‘But you lost so much blood.’
‘I didn’t lose a lot. It was in early pregnancy. It happens sometimes, apparently, and it hasn’t happened since. The baby is all right. Really.’
‘If you’re sure. Have a shower and then we’ll go downstairs and get some brekky.’
Alex has used both large hotel towels, and he has dropped the one he dried his hair with on the floor in the bathroom. With a little difficulty because of the size of my bump, I bend down and pick