fault!
“You’ve made it pretty clear that you don’t want to be part of my life,” he continued, ‘so I wanted someone who did want to be with me.”
His voice was calm. Maddeningly calm. She’d just confronted him with the biggest crisis a marriage could face and he was looking at her with calm indifference. He spoke about their marriage as if it was already dead as a dodo.
“Don’t give me that rubbish!” she screamed.
“Lingerie de Paris and nights in Jurys isn’t about our marriage not working.
It’s about sex you and some other woman having sex.
“You just couldn’t stop yourself, could you? Everything we had just wasn’t enough for you. So don’t try and blame me.
Don’t tell me it’s my fault!”
She stopped abruptly, aware that people nearby had stopped talking.
Normally, she’d have been embarrassed, but tonight she didn’t give a damn who heard her.
“How dare you …”
“I’m not trying to blame you,” Michael interrupted.
“It’s just that…” He sighed heavily.
“Look, we can’t talk about this here with everyone watching and listening. Let’s wait ‘til we get home, OK?”
“Home! Let’s wait ‘til we get home!” she repeated shrilly.
“You conveniently forgot about home when you were shacked up with that bitch in a Dublin hotel, lying that you were in London! So you can forget about coming home with me!
Your home is with your bloody girlfriend and I don’t want to see you until you’ve dumped her!”
“Aisling.” He tried to grab her but she managed to shrug his arm off. The door. Where was the door? She couldn’t see through her tears. She just pushed past the double doors before he caught up with her.
“Stop,” he commanded. And she did. Turning her round to face him, Michael looked her in the eyes, his pupils boring into hers intently.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Aisling,” he repeated.
“You have to believe that. But you’ve changed. I don’t know what’s happened to you, but you’re different. It’s as if you shut yourself off from me and I can’t live like that. I’m sorry.
“You’re right about me not coming home,” he added.
“It wouldn’t work. It’s better if I don’t come home tonight. I wanted to tell you everything a long time ago, but I could never find the right time. I didn’t want to hurt the kids but there’s no time that’s right for kids in the middle of at marriage breakup.”
She could feel the blood pumping through her body, keeping her alive when all she wanted to do was die.
She’d given him the chance, the chance to say he loved her and that it
had all been an awful mistake. But he hadn’t used it. He had turned her own words against her.
God, if only she hadn’t said he shouldn’t come home, if only she’d kept her mouth shut and let him explain, let him beg forgiveness, surely everything would have been all right?
She’d given him a cast-iron excuse to leave. Aisling had never quite understood the expression ‘time stood still”, until that moment.
He was standing just a few feet away from her wearing a pale blue shirt with the top buttons open to reveal a few inches of tanned neck, a neck she had snuggled into when they sat on the couch watching TV late at night. His aftershave permeated the air and, if she reached out, she could touch him, hold him in her arms and be safe for ever.
Perhaps if she wished hard enough, she could turn back the clock and keep her mouth shut. Then he’d stay with her. Then he wouldn’t need anyone else.
But it was too late. He didn’t want her. He wanted another woman in his arms and in his life. Blindly, she took another huge gulp of her drink, wanting to blot out what had just happened.
“I’ll stay in Tom’s tonight and I’ll be over to pick up some stuff in the morning.” Michael looked at her coolly, his eyes raking in the new dress and her flushed face, red from downing too much gin too rapidly.
“I better go back in. The MD is
“You’ve made it pretty clear that you don’t want to be part of my life,” he continued, ‘so I wanted someone who did want to be with me.”
His voice was calm. Maddeningly calm. She’d just confronted him with the biggest crisis a marriage could face and he was looking at her with calm indifference. He spoke about their marriage as if it was already dead as a dodo.
“Don’t give me that rubbish!” she screamed.
“Lingerie de Paris and nights in Jurys isn’t about our marriage not working.
It’s about sex you and some other woman having sex.
“You just couldn’t stop yourself, could you? Everything we had just wasn’t enough for you. So don’t try and blame me.
Don’t tell me it’s my fault!”
She stopped abruptly, aware that people nearby had stopped talking.
Normally, she’d have been embarrassed, but tonight she didn’t give a damn who heard her.
“How dare you …”
“I’m not trying to blame you,” Michael interrupted.
“It’s just that…” He sighed heavily.
“Look, we can’t talk about this here with everyone watching and listening. Let’s wait ‘til we get home, OK?”
“Home! Let’s wait ‘til we get home!” she repeated shrilly.
“You conveniently forgot about home when you were shacked up with that bitch in a Dublin hotel, lying that you were in London! So you can forget about coming home with me!
Your home is with your bloody girlfriend and I don’t want to see you until you’ve dumped her!”
“Aisling.” He tried to grab her but she managed to shrug his arm off. The door. Where was the door? She couldn’t see through her tears. She just pushed past the double doors before he caught up with her.
“Stop,” he commanded. And she did. Turning her round to face him, Michael looked her in the eyes, his pupils boring into hers intently.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Aisling,” he repeated.
“You have to believe that. But you’ve changed. I don’t know what’s happened to you, but you’re different. It’s as if you shut yourself off from me and I can’t live like that. I’m sorry.
“You’re right about me not coming home,” he added.
“It wouldn’t work. It’s better if I don’t come home tonight. I wanted to tell you everything a long time ago, but I could never find the right time. I didn’t want to hurt the kids but there’s no time that’s right for kids in the middle of at marriage breakup.”
She could feel the blood pumping through her body, keeping her alive when all she wanted to do was die.
She’d given him the chance, the chance to say he loved her and that it
had all been an awful mistake. But he hadn’t used it. He had turned her own words against her.
God, if only she hadn’t said he shouldn’t come home, if only she’d kept her mouth shut and let him explain, let him beg forgiveness, surely everything would have been all right?
She’d given him a cast-iron excuse to leave. Aisling had never quite understood the expression ‘time stood still”, until that moment.
He was standing just a few feet away from her wearing a pale blue shirt with the top buttons open to reveal a few inches of tanned neck, a neck she had snuggled into when they sat on the couch watching TV late at night. His aftershave permeated the air and, if she reached out, she could touch him, hold him in her arms and be safe for ever.
Perhaps if she wished hard enough, she could turn back the clock and keep her mouth shut. Then he’d stay with her. Then he wouldn’t need anyone else.
But it was too late. He didn’t want her. He wanted another woman in his arms and in his life. Blindly, she took another huge gulp of her drink, wanting to blot out what had just happened.
“I’ll stay in Tom’s tonight and I’ll be over to pick up some stuff in the morning.” Michael looked at her coolly, his eyes raking in the new dress and her flushed face, red from downing too much gin too rapidly.
“I better go back in. The MD is
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