Imogen knocked on the door to Adrian’s house, but there was no answer. She tried the spare key in the Yale lock, but the door wasn’t budging. Adrian must have double-locked the door and she didn’t have a key for the mortise lock. Maybe he thought she wouldn’t be back and he was elsewhere, with someone else. She pulled out her phone and called him.
‘Where are you?’ Imogen asked, wondering why he hadn’t answered the door.
‘Is that you outside?’ he whispered.
‘Yes, it’s me. Can you let me in, please?’ she said, although he rang off before she even got to the end of the sentence.
He appeared at the door a few moments later and unlocked the secondary lock before letting her inside and closing the door quickly behind her.
‘What’s wrong?’ he said.
‘We just got back from Shropshire and I wanted to see you.’
‘It’s three in the morning.’
‘Do you want me to leave?’ she said, annoyed at him for not being pleased to see her.
She could have gone straight home. The way Adrian had been behaving lately, she should have gone straight home.
‘No. No, of course not. Did you find anything?’
‘Nothing at all. Complete waste of time. I’m starving, have you got any food?’
‘I think there’s some bread in the kitchen. I could make you some toast.’
‘Thank you.’
She leaned forwards and kissed him – that flinch was there again, more pronounced than usual. She pushed it to one side and walked through to the kitchen.
Adrian followed behind and went straight to the toaster, busying himself with kitchen activities. She watched him closely and realised that he wasn’t making eye contact with her deliberately. Was he feeling guilty about something? Imogen was good at reading people and she couldn’t ignore her instincts anymore – she had to get the truth out of Adrian.
‘Adrian, what’s going on?’ she asked.
‘I’m making you toast, that’s what’s going on. Almost ready.’
‘I mean with us. Something is wrong. I can feel it. Are you experiencing some kind of buyer’s remorse or something?’
‘I’ve told you before that there is nothing wrong with us. I don’t know what you want me to say. Do you want me to make something up? Will you leave me alone then?’
The toast popped up and Adrian got a plate to put it on.
‘I thought we were being honest with each other.’
‘Look, I’m tired. I don’t have the energy for this. You know where the butter is,’ he said, dumping the plate of toast on the table in front of her before leaving the room and going back upstairs.
She closed her mouth, realising that it was slightly open in shock. She had never known Adrian to behave like this before. She rushed upstairs after him, but when she reached the bedroom and opened the door, she saw that he was already back in bed and covered up.
‘What the fuck was that?’ she asked.
‘Don’t read too much into this, Imogen. I am just fucking tired.’
‘I know you are lying to me about something, Adrian. One thing about you is that you have no poker face. Have I done something wrong?’
She could feel the neediness in her voice and she hated herself for it. She hated Adrian for it.
‘No, no, of course not. Can we maybe talk about this in about four hours?’ he said dismissively.
‘I don’t know if I can actually do this for much longer, Adrian. I hope this secret is worth what it’s doing to us.’
‘Grey, you’re paranoid; there is nothing you don’t know.’
‘Grey? You’re calling me by my surname and there’s nothing wrong? Is there someone else, Adrian? That’s really the only thing I can think of.’
Adrian sat up in the bed and crossed his legs before running his hands through his hair. She could see he had the urge to grab clumps of it in frustration.
‘Imogen. It’s three o’clock in the fucking morning. I need to go back to sleep so that I can wake up for work tomorrow. I promise you that I am not sleeping with anyone else. I already told you I love you and I meant that, but if you really think I would cheat on you then you should leave.’
‘Of course I don’t. I’m just scared, that’s all. I can feel you shutting me out. I don’t know if we can survive that kind of relationship. I don’t know if I want that.’
‘So, one little problem and you want out, is that what you’re saying?’
‘I’m saying talk to me!’
‘This is ridiculous! You can’t just come here at three in the morning and demand … this. Is this about sex?’
‘What? Of course it’s not! I mean, don’t think I haven’t noticed that you don’t seem to be interested in me anymore. I guess that’s why I asked you if there was someone else.’
‘Do you really think I would do that to you?’
He looked hurt at the suggestion this time.
‘No, of course I don’t, but I do know that you aren’t talking to me. Did I do something wrong?’
‘Look, you were right before. It’s this case; it’s getting to me. I’m sorry it’s spilled over into our relationship, but I can’t switch off. I am really trying not to dwell on it, but it’s not letting me. I wish I thought talking things through would help, but I don’t. Just be patient with me for a bit, please. I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to lose you, Imogen,’ he said.
The softness had returned to his voice. The tension left her shoulders as she looked at him – he wasn’t lying or pretending, at least at that moment.
‘You know, that’s the most you’ve said to me in weeks. I just don’t like to think of you going through this alone when you don’t have to.’
‘I know, I’m sorry. I’ll try harder.’
‘You don’t have to try at all, just let me be there for you.’
‘You are. I would have gone crazy without you these last few weeks. I really don’t deserve you.’
He held his hand out to her. She took it and he pulled her towards him, kissing her on the lips, soft and tender, reassuring her that all of her concerns were completely unfounded. Giving her exactly what she wanted.