Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [176]
For the last five weeks she’d endured sleepless nights wondering where her affair with Marcus would end up. She’d vacillated between ending it with him and resuming a normal life with Dylan, or fantasizing about a situation where Dylan was magically absent, but without her having actually told him it was over.
But as she listened to Dylan’s footsteps get ever closer, she’d realized that the decision had been taken for her. Suddenly she wasn’t sure she was ready.
The door to the bedroom opened, and even though she knew it was Dylan, his presence shocked her into a stupor.
His face. The expression on his face was so much worse than she’d ever imagined it could be. She was almost surprised at the amount of pain there. And his voice when he spoke was not Dylan’s. There was an Oof to it, as though he’d been slammed in the abdomen. ‘At the risk of sounding like a song lyric,’ he’d struggled for breath with pathetic dignity, ‘how long has this being going on?’
‘Dylan…’
‘How long?’
‘A month.’
Dylan turned to Marcus, who was clutching the sheet to his chest. ‘Would you mind leaving? I’d like a word with my wife.’
Cupping his genitals coyly, Marcus edged crab-like from the bed, snatched up some clothes and muttered to Clodagh, ‘I’ll call you later.’
Dylan watched him leave, then turned back to Clodagh and asked quietly, ‘Why?’ A hundred thousand questions were contained in that one word.
She struggled for the right words. ‘I don’t really know.’
‘Please tell me why. Tell me what’s wrong. We can fix it, I’ll do anything.’
What could she say? With sudden certainty, she knew she didn’t want him to fix it. But she owed him honesty. ‘I think I was lonely…’
‘Lonely? How?’
‘I don’t know, I can’t describe it. But I’ve been lonely and bored.’
‘Bored? With me?’
She hesitated. She couldn’t be that cruel. ‘With everything.’
‘Do you want to fix this?’
‘I don’t know.’
He studied her in long, painful silence. ‘That means no. Do you love this… him?’
A miserable nod. ‘I think so.’
‘OK.’
‘OK?’
But Dylan didn’t answer. Instead, he slid a holdall off the top of the wardrobe, bounced it on to the bed and, slamming drawers open and closed, began flinging in underwear and shirts. Nothing had prepared her for how shocking it was.
‘But…’ she tried, her eyes flicking back and forth, seeing ties, his shaving stuff, then some socks hop into the bag. Everything was happening very quickly.
Suddenly the bag was bulging-full. Then Dylan was zipping it with a high-pitched whizz. ‘I’ll be back for the rest later.’
He swung from the room, and after a panicky second Clodagh dragged on a dressing-gown and ran down the stairs after him.
‘Dylan, I still love you,’ she implored.
‘So what was that all about?’ He jerked his head upstairs.
‘I still love you,’ she repeated, her voice more subdued, ‘but…’
‘You’re no longer in love with me?’ Dylan finished harshly.
She hesitated. But she had to be honest. ‘I suppose…’
He shuttered his face. ‘I’ll be back tonight to explain things to my children. You can stay here in the house for the time being.’
‘For the time being?’
‘The house will have to be sold.’
‘Will it?
‘I can’t afford to pay the mortgage on this place and another. And if you think you’re staying on here while I’m in some smelly shoebox in Rathmines, you’re very much mistaken.’
And then he was gone.
She reeled from shock, from the speed it had all happened at. She’d fantasized about Dylan removing himself from her life, but now that it had actually come to pass it was ugly. Eleven years wiped out in half an hour, and Dylan in such agony. And talking about selling the house! Yes, she was wild about Marcus, but things weren’t that simple.
Too stunned to cry, too frightened to grieve, she sat in the kitchen for a long time. A ring at the front door jolted her back to the real world. It might be Marcus.
But it wasn’t.