11.55 pm

They have done this so many hundreds of times before. Ruth walks two steps towards her husband, and in the quiet she hears his breathing, heavy, like he is lifting something. It is so familiar, so precise, the way she puts her hand on his chest, rubs with one finger. He shifts his head slightly, she draws hers in, their lips meet, it is almost obscene, this act of a kiss. Aidan’s lips part and her tongue goes into his mouth, how strange a ritual, Ruth thinks, as she strokes her tongue against his. A kiss.

Without willing it, his hips push towards her. Aidan wonders how long it is since they did this, since they wanted each other. Wait, he might say, wait. Ruth pulls her shirt up and he watches her skin reveal itself, wants, suddenly, to put his lips to that soft, exposed plane. His fingers tremble.

Ruth unclasps her bra. Perhaps it is too fast, too much. Wait, she might say, wait. But her hands keep moving, her body pulling towards his. Aidan is reaching out to touch her. As they begin to make love, Ruth thinks, this is wonderful, but the words don’t stay in her mind, and don’t mean what she wants them to anyway.

‘Hello,’ Aidan says, his face on the pillow next to her. He gently pushes a strand of hair out of her eyes.

‘Hello,’ Ruth says. ‘That was good?’

‘Yeah,’ Aidan lets out a long exhale, his eyes closing briefly. ‘Christ, I’m wiped now, though.’

He pulls the duvet up over them, concealing the evidence, and Ruth smiles to herself at this man who has always hated talking after sex. ‘Long day,’ she allows herself to say.

‘Yeah.’

Ruth looks over at him, his eyes closed properly now. ‘I might get some water, want some?’

‘No, I’m grand.’

The house feels different as she walks through it. Hospitable again, maybe. Back in the bedroom, Ruth stands in the door for a moment, watching Aidan. He is asleep, like someone with a clear conscience. Don’t dwell, Ruth. Just let it be how it is.

It isn’t easy, though, it has never been easy, letting people be the way they wanted with you. Ruth slides into bed, thinking of the ceremony and the words they’d written, of the hope and perfection, of how he had looked at her. And how he had kept his eyes closed tonight as they’d made love. He fucks me, he fucks me not, he fucks me. Sex, Ruth thinks as she settles onto the pillow, sex could not fix it all. But it had meant something. Downstairs he said she had abandoned him. And yet here they are and there is nowhere else and there is no other time and there is no other person.

It was their favourite joke from the beginning, that Aidan looked after her, fed her, cherished and minded her, but Ruth had not wanted it, she sees now, to be only a joke. He had been shocked, his face had betrayed him, shocked to hear her say that she grieved too. If you don’t know that, she wanted to say, you are not paying attention, not minding me at all. She is so tired of it now, of revolving it all, and she shifts slightly away from him. Aidan sighs and turns to curve round her, then breathes deeply again. He had not paid attention. But then neither had she.

Aidan didn’t get it, or not fully, that Ruth’s work was not so much a consolation as a way of making something new. Something that was both outside herself and that came from inside. It’s hard to express, exactly, but she wants it for herself, and she wants, too, to come home to Aidan, to talk it over, share it with him, all of it. Because she has not heard or felt or seen anything until she has told Aidan. And this is the revelation of today, though it is a fact that has been there all along: the only way forward for her is to be in this completely. No more running away.

Ruth feels so close to him now, his breathing gentle, whispering up against her neck. She will have a family. Even if family is in a different shape than she thought it would be.

What had she said to that girl, earlier? Name one thing you can see? Ruth looks at the outline of the curtains and the wardrobe, and thinks, this is my life. Name one thing you can feel? The duvet wrapped around my legs. My life settling around me. Name one thing you can touch? Aidan, at last. Aidan.

A future.

The clock shows nearly one am. They will never move on, she sees, either of them. They will just learn to carry it. To deal with it, one bit, then another bit. This is what it is to build a life with another person. How weird, how hard. When will it not be hard? Never, but do it anyway. Ruth is getting tired, but she doesn’t want to lose this moment, to let it end.

Ruth is not easy, who wants easy, he is not easy either. Someone else would be easier, she will say that to him, tomorrow, wait until he’s had breakfast, and coffee, definitely coffee, and say it to him, did you want easy, did you, because I wanted interesting, and we can still be interesting, can’t we? They have found an armistice, not a resolution, and tomorrow they will do it all again and come up with better answers and different truths and find a path or a way through and it is not all gone, it is not too late, there is still time.

What was the question?

Is this what you want?

In the dark, breathing soft now, hope and love and kindness and acceptance. Is this what you want? In the dark but also in the light. Is this what you want?

Yes, she thinks, yes, it is. Yes.