If You're Not the One by Jemma Forte Page A

now existed in. Furthermore, as Jennifer drifted away she letthe falling sensation overwhelm her again, this time confident of what to expect. There they were, the tunnels of light, and for the second time she was carried towards the still open portal on the left.

TUNNEL NUMBER ONE
    What Could Have Been—Aidan
    Gasping, Jennifer jabbed Aidan in the ribs, signalling for him to roll off so she could lie back and enjoy that brief period of utter contentment which follows an epic orgasm.
    â€˜Wow.’
    â€˜Hmm,’ agreed Aidan, reaching over for his rolling tobacco. She surveyed his back. Since he’d hurt his ankle he’d not been able to go swimming or running and he’d piled on the pounds.
    He still had a lovely broad body though; even if it was remarkably pasty and carrying a lot more fat than it had done. Still, his physique would always err on the side of good for his frame was masculine, tall and well proportioned. She surveyed the tattoo which spanned the width of his lower back. It was bizarre to think he’d had it done sixteen years ago, six months after they’d arrived in Australia. Sun-drenched, heady, exciting days when it had still seemed like anything was possible. It was a Celticpattern with a large sun in the middle and recently Jennifer had started to hate the very sight of it. It represented the elusive sunshine which Aidan had spent ever since hankering after, chasing, but which somehow always remained just out of their reach. Just then, the strong, very wet Carlisle rain started hammering against the window panes as if to illustrate her point.
    â€˜Typical,’ muttered Aidan.
    â€˜Why, what are you up to? Are you going to fetch that paint for Nathan’s room?’ asked Jennifer hopefully.
    â€˜No, I’m supposed to be signing on at three and I’m probably not going to have time to do that and get the paint am I?’
    â€˜Guess not,’ said Jennifer flatly, hoping he wasn’t trying to wriggle out of it. The feeling of peace she’d had from their physical exertions was short-lived as ever. She’d finished work very late last night, was exhausted and, frankly, picking up the paint was the least he could do. She had absolutely no idea why he couldn’t get round to it. It was as if he was deliberately not doing it to spite her. She was almost tempted to get the bus and collect it herself. That way they could make a start on Nathan’s room like they’d been promising him they would since his birthday. Only, Aidan collecting the paint had become a point of principle.
    She inhaled deeply through her nose, as she’d been taught to in yoga class, desperate to remain in a good frame of mind a while longer.
    Aidan sucked deeply on his skinny cigarette.
    â€˜Did Olly say if he had any more decorating work?’ she said, knowing he’d hate her asking but unable to help herself.
    â€˜He didn’t,’ he replied tersely.
    â€˜All right, I’m only asking,’ said Jennifer, getting up abruptly, knowing her mission to remain Zen was futile, so infused with intense frustration was she. She grabbed her old, tatty dressing gown from the hook on the back of the door and wrapped it around her thin body. Between working in the restaurant, Aidan’s insatiable sexual appetite and the stress of never having enough money, keeping the pounds off wasn’t something she’d ever had to worry about.
    â€˜Well don’t. You know I’ll tell you when he’s got something. Why would I not?’
    Jennifer didn’t reply. There was no point. There’d only be a row and she could do without one on her only day off. Instead she left the bedroom and went into the tiny kitchen to make a cup of tea.
    â€˜Do you want a brew?’ she called, biting her lip in an attempt to quell the angry tears which were suddenly threatening to spill down her cheeks.
    â€˜Go on then,’ called Aidan. ‘Seeing as