It was the light streaming in the window that woke me but the pounding headache that immediately followed was what delayed the realization of where I was. When it came, I felt an overwhelming groan permeate from every pore. Fuck. What had I done?
The space beside me in the bed was empty, so I got up, and then had to put a hand against the wall to steady myself. My head was actually spinning. Thank you, tequila.
I couldn’t see my clothes, so I grabbed a towel from the en suite and wrapped it around my waist, then headed out of the door, not even sure how to get downstairs. Bollocks. I was supposed to be in Manchester and instead I was in London, in my sons’ house, waking up after spending the night with their mother. This was so many levels of wrong, it made my head pounded even harder.
‘Morning,’ Jess said, as I entered the kitchen. In bare feet and denim cut shorts, a white baggy T-shirt and her hair tied up on a ponytail, she was fresh-faced and functioning so much better than me. She clocked my outfit. ‘Sorry, I was going to bring your clothes up. They’re on the chair.’
She gestured to the seats at the breakfast bar, where we’d been sitting last night. Oh fuck. We’d had sex there, on the counter. Then I’d carried her upstairs, with her laughing as she gave me directions on which way to go, and we’d made love again in bed. Her bed. Twice.
Again. Fuck. What had I done?
She slid a coffee in front of me, but I didn’t lift it. The irony wasn’t lost. A hot drink was how this had all started last night. Actually, that wasn’t true. The fight with Shauna was how it started. Oh God, Shauna. A flashback delivered snippets of what I’d said to her last night and I groaned.
‘Flashback?’ Jess said, sitting across from me this time. Her tone was tentative, almost sad.
‘Yeah,’ I replied.
‘Thanks. Men always groan with horror when they realize they’ve slept with me.’
‘No, no, it wasn’t that!’ I rushed to clarify, even though I knew she was taking the piss. ‘It’s Shauna. Last night. We had a fight before I came here.’
‘I know.’
I tried to remember if we’d discussed it. ‘Did I tell you about it?’
‘No, but maybe you should.’
I shook my head. ‘Somehow that would feel… disloyal.’ Even as I said it, I realized how stupid it sounded. Yeah, repeating a conversation was disloyal. Screwing your ex-wife? A trifling misdemeanour.
‘Okay, let me have a shot at it,’ she said, softly, like she was teasing a thorn from my flesh and talking to me gently to take my mind off the pain. ‘Since you found out you have the tumour, you’ve gone to that place between denial and numbness, where you ignore the problem, pretend everything is going to be okay. You’ve convinced yourself that it doesn’t exist, even though something inside knows that it does. And it’s that bit of you that makes you angry, makes you want to push everyone away because you’re hurting. But you cover that up, act like it’s all easy, life’s a joke and you’re not going to accept the alternative.’ She stopped, looked at me. ‘How am I doing so far?’
I didn’t need to answer. She could see the truth in on my face. She carried on, ‘Every time you look at Shauna it reminds you of what’s happened and what’s going to happen. So not only do you back off from her, but you get irritated, block out her feelings. You’re pushing her away with your indifference and you know she’s hurting but you can’t bring yourself to help her or be there for her because that means acknowledging the reality of what’s happening. If she shows even a glimpse of vulnerability, you close it down, brush it off.’
She stopped, waited for a response.
‘How do you do that?’ I asked, aware that we both knew the answer.
She told me any way. ‘Because history repeats itself.’
We both sat with that one for a moment, the honesty of it searing, yet in a strange way comforting. There was something in the fact that Jess knew all this about me, knew my worst flaws and yet we were here, two decades later, sitting round the table, pretending to drink her coffee.
Although, there was nothing comforting at all about what had happened here a few hours ago. Christ, what had I been thinking?
‘Jess… last night.’ It was as far as I got, before I ran out of words.
‘Last night was incredible,’ she said softly. A boulder of guilt came crashing down on top of me, only lifting when she went on. ‘I’m not even sure how or why it happened. The alcohol didn’t help, but I think I just wanted to…’ she paused, thinking it through. ‘… feel like I used to. Only I didn’t.’ We both know it was a one-time thing. We’re not those people any more. We’re not the teenagers who fell in giddy love. I’ll always love you, Colm, but I don’t want to go back there with you. I don’t think you want that either.’
Once again I was struck by the wisdom of this woman that I’d married and somehow let go. ‘No, I don’t.’ But it wasn’t that simple. I struggled to find the right words to convey how I felt about her. In the end, I went for the truth. ‘You’re amazing,’ I told her honestly. ‘Except when you make coffee.’
That made her laugh, but only briefly, before her body language became a rueful shrug.
‘Not feeling amazing right now. I don’t know that I’ll ever come to terms with sleeping with another woman’s husband. Not my finest moment,’ she admitted, tears pooling in her eyes again. ‘What are you going to do about Shauna?’
‘I don’t know. How do I tell her this? She doesn’t deserve it. Jesus, I’m a prick. I can’t even begin to explain how much she’s put up with, everything she’s done… But that’s the problem. She said last night I resented her for coping, for taking care of everything. I think she’s right. Now I think maybe she wasn’t coping as well as I thought.’
‘She was being strong for you,’ Jess added, as always going straight to the truth of it.
‘I see that now, but at the time I think that made me feel… The truth? I think it dented my ego, because she was the one taking everything on and not me.’
Jess nodded. ‘But she couldn’t win, because if she’d fallen apart and looked to you for support, you wouldn’t have been there for her because you’re doing what you always do. Bad stuff isn’t happening. What was it you always used to say? “Blind faith and optimism”.’
‘Christ almighty. What a prick I am,’ I said again. I could keep saying it all day, yet it still didn’t begin to cover my stupidity. ‘How did I ever get you two to fall in love with me?’
‘You have an unusually large penis.’
‘Do I? How did I not know this?’
‘No,’ she retorted, giggling. ‘You really don’t.’
Suddenly I was laughing, then in an emotional repeat of last night, there were tears. Nothing for twenty years then twice in twelve hours. What was happening to me? There was more I wanted to say, stuff I suddenly needed to share, but I knew that I would be sharing it with the wrong woman. I needed to see Shauna.
I needed to tell her what I’d done, tell her how I hated myself for it, beg her to forgive me. I loved her so much and I’d completely fucking blown it, right from the minute I’d walked out the door last night, being a stubborn dickhead. I hadn’t even told her I loved her before I left. I couldn’t stand the thought that she wouldn’t believe me after this.
‘What am I going to do, Jess? She’ll never forgive me.’
‘Don’t tell her.’
‘I have to.’
‘Why? To make yourself feel better? To salve your conscience? Telling her will only cause her even more pain and you’ve no right to do that. Go to Manchester this morning, have your meeting, come home, and love your wife. Make it right. Don’t add to her heartache. She doesn’t deserve it.’
She was right. I knew she was. I just didn’t know whether I could live with the guilt… or die with it.