I reach down to unzip him, I take him in my hand, feel his hardness grow and I ache for this release now, I need him. This man. This.
He rests a hand on my hip, swings me around, then yanks my jeans down. He nudges my legs apart with his knee, and he’s inside me before I have a chance to draw breath, his fingers sliding between mine up against the wall. He thrusts into me with an almost violent force, and I buck back just as hard, I grip him tight, I want to hurt him. That’s why he’s here, a vehicle for me to take my anger out on in the only twisted way I know how.
He lets go of my hand, reaches down, and he touches me. It’s all I can do to stop myself from crying out. And he senses that, pushes my head around slightly so my mouth catches his; so my cries seep into him.
‘Harder,’ I whisper. I need him to go deeper, it makes me feel safe. Protected. But I also need to feel pain. To know that I’m still alive and not just sleepwalking my way through the nightmare that my life has become.
He takes hold of my hand again, grips my fingers tight as he pulls out of me. Then he slams back into me with a force that pushes the breath from my body, but the pain it causes is beautiful.
Your best friend wants me, Michael.
He wants me…
It’s crazy, brutal sex. Hard and fast. Wrong. Sordid. Dirty. Sex.
He makes me come with his fingers, his body buried deep within mine as I tense up. And as my release ends, his begins. I feel him explode inside me, feel him flood me with his toxic power, and I fall back against him, his arm circling my waist, holding me. For a second we stay there, in silence, my head resting against his shoulder, his breath hot on my neck as his breathing slows down.
His fingers remain curled around mine. He’s still inside me, and for a second or two I allow calm to spread through me. I breathe in deeply and squeeze his hand before I ready myself to let go of this, to head back to reality. I have a job to do.
I needed him. He temporarily fixed me, but I’ll break again. I always do. But I know he’ll be there. To fix me…
I don’t want Michael to know that I called Ernie. And I asked Ernie not to tell Michael I’d been in touch; asked if we could meet away from the university. I don’t want my husband to know I’ve talked to him. And Ernie’s going to ask why, of course he is. As far as I’m aware Michael hasn’t told any of his colleagues that we’re not even living in the same house anymore, that we’re barely talking. Or maybe he has, I don’t know. I’m about to find out.
I park the car and head inside the pub – one I chose because it’s a little way out of Durham. A country pub, in the true sense of the word. Cosy seating, a real fire, beams on the ceiling; it’s quaint. I’ve been here before, once, with Liam, so I’m vaguely familiar with its layout, and I scan the room as I look for Ernie. Professor Ernie Waterford, a man who isn’t just Michael’s work colleague, he’s also his friend. Our friend. He was Michael’s lecturer before he became his mentor, and he’s always been there, on the periphery of our lives. I just have no idea how much Michael’s confided in him over the past year or so, if at all. Maybe he hasn’t needed to. He’s had her, hasn’t he?
He’s sitting at a table in the corner, by the fire, which isn’t lit today because we’re heading into summer. I make my way over to him and as I approach, he stands up, holds out his arms and hugs me. The usual, familiar bear hug I always receive from Ernie.
‘Ellie, my darling, how are you?’
He waits for me to sit down before he takes his seat. A gentleman to the end. ‘I’m fine.’
I’m not. I’m so far from fine.
He looks at me, sits back down in his chair, crosses his legs and clasps his hands together in his lap. He knows something’s wrong. It’s obvious something’s wrong, otherwise why would I insist that he keeps this meeting secret from Michael?
‘Why did you want to speak to me?’ he asks. ‘Don’t get me wrong, it’s always a pleasure to spend time with you, it’s just a little unusual for you to request something so … clandestine?’
I pause, and for a second I wonder if I’ve done the right thing, coming here. I’m still not sure who I can trust, but that brief moment of clarity soon disappears. I’ve been left with so few choices now. This is what I’ve been driven to. ‘You … you know that Michael and I – we’ve been through a lot. Things have been tough – really tough, and I don’t know how much Michael’s told you…’
‘He hasn’t spoken to me in any great detail about anything personal, Ellie.’
I briefly look down, aware that I’m fiddling with my wedding ring, twisting it round and round my finger. And then I raise my gaze, look Ernie in the eye.
‘Have you noticed anything … odd about Michael’s behaviour over the past few months?’
He frowns slightly. ‘Odd? No, not really, but to be honest, Ellie, I’m not around as much as I used to be. I don’t see Michael all that often … is something wrong?’
I shake my head, even though it’s obvious I’m lying. I just don’t want to tell him too much. But there are things I need to know, so I’m pushing this.
‘That student – the one who invaded our home, the one who…’ I look down again, closing my eyes for a second or two while I try to compose myself. And then I feel his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently, his voice quiet as he leans in to me.
‘I’ll go and get us some drinks. The usual?’
His tone is kind and I nod without looking up. I’m scared that if I look at him right now I might cry. There’ve been times over the years when Ernie has felt more like a father to me than my own ever was. He’s always cared, even from a distance. That’s why I’m here now, because he cares about me and Michael, and whatever I need to know, he’ll tell me if he can. I’m sure of that.
My phone ringing out distracts me and I reach for it on the table, turning the volume down as I glance at the screen. It’s Liam. It’s nearly always Liam. I answer it, sitting back in my chair as I look around the pub. It’s fairly busy for a weekday afternoon, and I wonder if Michael brings her to places like this. Out of the way places. Secluded, secret places where he has little chance of his infidelity being discovered. The kind of places I come to with Liam, but that’s different. Our situation is different. I need Liam. He doesn’t need Ava.
‘You’re not at work, Ellie. Where are you?’
Sometimes he treats me like a child. He has no right to know my every move.
And I have every right to know my husband’s?
‘I’m in a meeting, Liam.’
That’s not entirely a lie. This is a meeting, of sorts.
‘Come to mine tonight. Please. I don’t like the idea of you being in that house alone.’
‘Then you come to me.’
Strange though it may seem, whilst I once hated being alone there, I don’t want to leave my home, even though it doesn’t feel much like one right now. There are times when it feels more like a prison. But I don’t want to walk away, I’m not giving up. It’s going to feel like a home again, one day. When Michael’s back and all that’s broken is fixed.