It was dark by the time the cab pulled up at the house. I could see a dim light radiating from the side of the building, so that meant Shauna was in the kitchen. If I thought there was any chance he wouldn’t have called the police, I’d have ignored the taxi driver’s cheery, ‘There you go, mate,’ and just sat there, eyes straight forward, killing an hour, maybe two, before I had to go in there.
I had to tell her.
This morning, Jess had begged me not to, listed all the reasons I shouldn’t do it. It would wreck our lives. It would destroy Beth’s childhood. Affect the boys. Devastate Shauna. Snatch away any shred of happiness that we would have from now until…
As always, I didn’t finish that thought. Maybe acceptance of this illness would come soon, but it wasn’t here yet so I wasn’t going to let it eat into my life even a day sooner than it had to. Shauna couldn’t understand that, but it was honestly how I felt. I’d read more on brain tumours than I ever wanted to know. Yes, I was looking at a high probability of a year, maybe two, but that wasn’t a fixed sentence. It came with exceptions. ‘Statistic outliers’ they call them. People who survive longer than the odds, for no specific reason. They just do. Right now, I was feeling fine, so I was going to trust that I was a statistic outlier until something or someone told me otherwise. I was going to believe that I’d live to see my girl sing in ten Christmas shows, finish primary school, high school, get married…
A huge mass formed in my throat. I wouldn’t give up on the future. Fuck this disease.
But I couldn’t focus on staying positive and willing myself to live if I was drowning in guilt.
Jess was probably right. I should wipe it from the memory and move on.
But I couldn’t.
I couldn’t look Shauna in the face, kiss her, make love to her, and know that I’d been with someone else. My phone had been out of charge all day. That’s what happened when you stormed out of a house without packing a charger. It was probably just as well because I’d thought about phoning her a dozen times. Coward’s way out, I know. Now I was going to have to man up and confess everything, and watch her face as I obliterated our entire lives.
It was a familiar mantra, but fuck, I was an idiot.
I wasn’t even sure what I was hoping to achieve. Her forgiveness? What were the chances of that? And if she did find a way to forgive me, would it be because of the tumour? We couldn’t live like that. The only thing worse than her leaving me would be her staying with me out of pity.
What the fuck had I done?
I just had to hope that she could find a way to love me after this. I couldn’t lose her. For whatever time we still had, whether it was one year or ten, I needed her to be with me – not because she felt sorry for me, but because she loved me enough to overcome it.
‘Mate?’ The taxi driver was getting restless.
‘Sorry,’ I blustered, thrusting forty quid towards him. It was probably his biggest tip of the day, but I wasn’t above buying karma anywhere I could.
I walked slowly up the path. Dead man walking. In more ways than one. It was after nine p.m, so Beth would be in her bed. I desperately wanted to see her, but at least this way there would be no distractions, no little face running towards me, her life about to be decimated by the fact that daddy had been a cheating bastard. I’d open that door, Shauna would be there, I’d tell her.
Suddenly I was back in the doctor’s office, waiting for the next conversation, one that I knew had the potential to change my life. That one hadn’t gone well. I had no reason to think this would be any different.
The cold metal of the door handle stuck to the palm of my hand as I paused, took a breath, then pushed it open.
‘Hey, m’darlin, how…’
I stopped.
I’d expected her to be bustling around the kitchen, cooking or cleaning. Or perhaps sitting at the table, doing paperwork with a huge mug of coffee by her side.
Instead, she was curled up in the armchair in the corner of the room, her chin resting on the knees that were pulled up against her chest, her skin pale, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen.
She knew.
Shit, she knew.
How had she found out? That didn’t even matter.
She knew.
‘Shauna?’ I dropped my bag, crossed the room in two strides and then I was on my knees in front of her.
‘Shauna, I’m so…’
‘My dad died,’ she whispered.