‘That was amazing!’ Javier said as he rolled onto his side. He leant over and kissed her before collapsing back onto the pillows. ‘You are amazing.’
Tasha lay there, catching her breath, dazed and unable to process what she had done.
‘It was,’ she said. And it had been. Passionate, explosive, completely overwhelming. But it hadn’t been with Charlie. She hadn’t slept with anyone else since first meeting him, fourteen years ago. The second it was over she had felt a disturbing feeling of discomfort seep in, replacing the all-consuming lust she had felt mere moments before.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine. Sorry. I just… I have never done anything like this before.’
Tasha’s mind was reeling. Her body felt entirely sated, but the floodgates had opened and the rational voice that had been trying to get her attention in the kitchen was now at the forefront of all the conflicting voices in her head.
‘Hey, I promise, you have nothing to worry about. I’m not going to tell your husband.’ Javier smiled reassuringly. He was so relaxed, so comfortable in his own skin. She envied him in a way.
‘Oh, God, don’t say that word.’ Tasha clamped her hands over her eyes. ‘I feel terrible.’
‘We are all human. Programmed to love, to lust, to desire. There is no harm in what we have done. It’s simple enjoyment, good for the soul… I respect that you are married. There is absolutely no need for you to feel ashamed.’ Javier leant over and kissed her again. He seemed as if he wanted a repeat performance, but now that the spell had been broken there was no way Tasha was going to relent.
‘I think I had better go,’ Tasha said, pushing him away. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Stop apologising!’ Javier laughed. ‘I think you are an extremely beautiful woman, and today I got to make love to you. It felt amazing. I promise you, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.’
Tasha laughed nervously as she got out of the bed. In contrast to Javier, who was lying there in all his naked splendour seemingly without a care in the world, she suddenly felt very self-conscious. Lost in the moment, she hadn’t stopped to think about her body, what he might think of those extra pounds, her cellulite. But in the harsh morning light she knew that it would all be on full display.
Javier watched her as she pulled on her clothes. He yawned. ‘I’m going to jump in the shower. Are you sure I can’t tempt you to join me?’
‘No, thanks. I must get going. Thanks again for the number…’ She didn’t know what else to say. This was so awkward. What had she been thinking?
‘No problem. Are you happy to see yourself out?’ Javier stood up and walked towards her. He reached behind her and grabbed a towel from the back of the door, slinging it around his hips. Her pulse raced from adrenaline; she felt quite faint again, this time for entirely different reasons.
‘Yes, absolutely.’
He leant forward and kissed her. ‘I meant what I said. Please, don’t worry. This was just for us, a stolen moment, to be enjoyed, relished, perhaps.’
She nodded. ‘Goodbye, Javier.’
‘Have a wonderful day,’ he called as she turned on her heel, opening the door and walking down the stairs.
She let herself out, trying not to look suspicious, nonchalantly looking from left to right to see whether she had been spotted by anyone. Thankfully there was no one in sight. She exhaled a sigh of relief and crossed the road. Her hands were trembling as she opened her front door.
Closing it behind her, Tasha turned and pressed her forehead into the wood. What had she done? Tears filled her eyes as she thought of Charlie. How could she have betrayed him like that? How could she have been so weak-willed, so desperate for sexual gratification that she would consider looking elsewhere? She had cheated on him, something she had sworn blind she would never have been able to do. She was no better than his ex… She knew all too well just how heartbroken he had been. Now history appeared to be repeating itself. There had been nothing glamorous about it, nothing romantic. It had been a moment’s release and nothing more. She was already filled with regret and she had a sneaking suspicion that the feeling would never leave her.
Suddenly desperate to have a shower, to wash off all traces of Javier, Tasha stripped off all her clothes and scrubbed at her skin under the hot water. Her mind had gone into overdrive, immediately jumping ahead to all the worst-case scenarios in which Charlie might find out what she had done. She tried to tell herself there was no way he could, Javier wasn’t going to tell him; he had already told her that. He was a decent man and she felt sure he had meant what he said. Despite his assurance she felt panic set in. She felt so stupid. What had she gained from that? What had been the point? She wasn’t going to start a relationship with Javier. She had no interest in him other than a deep attraction; he had a mysterious air that intrigued her but that was worth nothing. She was happy with Charlie. There was no way she would jeopardise her marriage. Except that she just had. It was no good, she would just have to cope with the guilt. She had made her bed and she would now have to lie in it. She wouldn’t tell Charlie what she had done. She would just have to pretend it had never happened and mentally strike it out, if that was even possible.
Back in the kitchen, as she put her clothes into the wash, she remembered in horror that she had left the Post-it with the contact details at Javier’s house. She wasn’t going back to get it, that much was for sure. She thought of Ella and her eyes filled up once again. Enough, she told herself. She had to pull herself together.
Tasha went up to the loft to pull out Flora’s old school uniform in the hope of locating a kilt for Bella. She tried to stop the vivid flashbacks from slipping into her consciousness. Each one made her stomach lurch in a mixture of lust and regret. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the images out of her mind. She considered calling Rosie to discuss what she had done; if there was one person she could confide in it would be her. Even so, she knew she wouldn’t tell her. It was better if no one knew.
Later, as Tasha was ironing Charlie’s shirts she found tears in her eyes again. Suddenly she seemed only too aware of just how wonderful he was. Memories flooded back of thousands of happy times together: the first dance at their wedding, eating ice creams on the beach in Dorset with the children, taking Flora home from the hospital for the very first time. She pictured his kind blue eyes, his smile lines, him telling stories to the children, and she thought she might be physically sick with guilt. She desperately hoped that he would never find out just how selfish and foolish she had been.