I’m scrolling through leather boots on the ASOS website when my phone vibrates. When I see the caller ID, my stomach does a little somersault.
“Hi,” I say carefully.
“Hey,” Seb says on the other line, his voice gentle. “Where are you?”
I swing around in the chair and look around the study. “I’m at Deb’s. Just helping her do some online shopping. Why? Is something wrong?”
It’s unusual for him to call. He’s been at the vineyard almost every day this week, leaving home early and returning late. He’s been friendly, but our conversations have been empty, his kisses rare.
“I was thinking we could go out for dinner tonight,” Seb says. “I have some things to finish here, but we could leave at eight?”
I stand up. “Really? Just the two of us?”
“Yes.”
The words flood out of me in an excited rush. “Yes! That sounds great. Should I do anything?”
“Just show up,” he says with that tinge of charm I love.
I beam. “I’ll see you later.”
When we hang up, I walk to the kitchen, buzzing with newfound jubilation. Deb’s still upstairs, sorting out her closet. I smile and do a little twirl. There’s been a definite shift these past few days. We’re still in winter, but I feel the seasons changing.
It all started when Alice from InCheck responded to my text. We agreed to have a call, and when we connected, the first few seconds felt loaded.
“It’s nice to meet you, Rachel,” she’d said.
Her voice sounded younger than what I’d imagined, but she was warm and comforting.
“I’ve never done this before,” I admitted to her.
“That’s okay. You’re trying this out,” she said. “Let’s start with how your day went.”
Her accent was hard to place. It wasn’t British English. American? Australian? I wasn’t going to ask. The less we knew about each other, the better.
“I spoke to my mother today,” I told her.
“How did that go?”
I wasn’t ready to divulge everything at once. I barely knew the woman. And I kept thinking what I was doing was stupid. That if my parents find out, they’d be disappointed.
Lisa’s at it again. Convinced herself she’s got mental problems.
“I’m married. Well, about to be married,” I told Alice. She asked me some questions. How I met my fiancé. Had my parents met him. When she asked me how I felt about the upcoming wedding, I stopped.
“We haven’t planned it yet. We first wanted to just…” I trailed off. “Sorry, this is harder than I thought.”
“That’s all right. There’s no rush.”
I remember feeling grateful for her patience. “Things have been difficult. And I feel a little …” The tears welled and my chest heaved. “See, my parents, they look out for me. I was in love once, when I was younger. And—and I guess I can’t let go of that.”
“Let go of the past relationship?”
“Yes,” I said. “But I’m worried. I can’t disappoint my parents this time. I have to see this through.”
As I composed myself, Alice sounded like she had all the time in the world to listen. Like all that mattered was this conversation we were having.
“Rachel, can I ask you something?”
“Yes, please. Sorry, I must be talking your head off.”
“When you are with your husband—or soon-to-be husband—do you feel happy?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Not when we fight, but when I’m with him, yes.”
“And when you say ‘see this through’, are you referring to him?”
“Yes. I need to make my marriage work.”
She hummed as if she was considering this. “And do you feel he’s doing the same? Putting in the effort to make this work?”
I had to think about that. And then I told her the truth. “I don’t know.”
But now, standing here in Deb’s house, it feels like the tables have turned. Seb’s asked me to dinner. He hasn’t done something like this since before what happened with Greg.
I grab my phone and open InCheck to message Alice.
He’s taking me to dinner tonight. His idea!
I drop the phone on the island and start picturing what I’ll wear to dinner.
I’m so deep in thought that I almost don’t hear the key in the door.
My head jerks up. I look at the stairs, but see no sign of Deb. I’m still frozen in place when I hear footsteps approaching. And then a familiar face.
“Richard?”
He’s dressed in tailored navy trousers and a crisp white shirt. He looks handsome, and my stomach churns for thinking that.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he says.
His eyes examine me, that familiar slow scan of my body, then back up again to my face. There’s a smirk playing on his lips.
“Is Deb home?” he says, pointing to the stairs.
“Yes.”
He nods. “Right. Well, I’m just picking up some stuff.”
I watch him as he moves to the study. He hasn’t been home since that morning I ran into him on the street. Since then, Deb’s been a mess, hanging aimlessly around the house.
“Do you need me to get her?” I call after him, but there’s no response.
I walk quickly to the stairs, but Deb’s already on the landing, her face ghostly white. “Is that—”
“Richard,” I say. “Were you expecting him?”
But she’s rushing down the stairs. I move out of the way and watch her hurtle towards the study. Her voice pierces the silence. “What in God’s name!”
“Hello to you too,” I hear Richard say, deadpan.
“What are you doing here?” Deb almost shouts.
“Well, if you have to ask, I’m visiting my house.”
“You can’t just come barging in here. Give me—”
There’s a muffled sound, like a brief struggle. Then a shriek, a thud. I dart down the hall and approach the study door.
There, amidst scattered papers on the floor, is Deb. She’s sitting on her backside, her eyes wide. Richard towers over her with journals and what looks like a hard drive in his hands. When he sees me, he’s quick to move past, bumping my shoulder as he makes his way to the front door.
I take another look at Deb, then run after him.
“Hey!”
My yell ripples through the cold air. I stand in the open doorway, watching Richard as he walks to his black Audi, opening the trunk and throwing the files inside. As he closes it, he looks up at me.
“Hey!” I yell again.
He narrows his eyes, like I’m a stranger he’s trying to recognise. And then his face changes. I watch the corners of his mouth turn up into a leering grin.
A shiver runs down my spine as he walks around the car. I’m suddenly aware of how alone we are here. Even outside, there’s no one else around. This man’s just pushed his wife to the floor. What could he do to me?
I gulp, frozen in place.
He opens the car door. “You ladies take care now,” he says.
I watch him start the car, drive down the road and disappear around the bend. I clutch the door, my heart hammering in my chest. But something else builds amidst the fear.
Anger. At him and his actions. At me and my lack of.
I curse under my breath. Bastard.