42
We stared at each other for what seemed like a long time but nowhere near enough. Drops of rain meandered down the side of his face and hair. He wore his old jacket. New jeans. No beard.
I twiddled my perfectly adjusted glasses. Hoped he couldn’t tell that my skin was sparking like a poked bonfire, my throat swollen with all the jokes and the questions and the stories I’d whispered at the wall, longing to finally reach the man they were meant for.
‘Hi,’ he said, pushing his hands into his pockets.
‘Hi.’
‘I got your message,’ he said, still holding my gaze like an eyeball magnet.
‘Quick response,’ I managed to squeeze out.
‘Yeah, I was on my way round anyway. To let you know I’m back.’
‘You’re back.’Wow, well deduced, Jenny.
‘Yeah, and I’ll be in working – writing – on Friday, so, the dry-rot guy can call in whenever.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Right. Well. I’ve got unpacking to do, so—’
‘I was about to make tea. If you want one,’ I gabbled, while my conscience shook its head in disapproval, wagging a finger at me.
‘That’d be great,’ Mack said, before I had a chance to take it back.
‘And Sienna, would she like one? Is she… here?’
Mack frowned, finally taking one hand out of his pocket and wiping the remains of the rain from his hair and face. ‘No.’
‘Oh.’ I poked at my glasses again. Still perfectly positioned. Tried to mentally will the excess blood to retreat from my face and neck.
Mack filled the kettle. Lifted two mugs from the dresser and plopped a teabag in each one.
Then he stood facing the counter for a few seconds before turning to look at me.
‘Sienna is no longer my wife.’
I nearly choked on my own tonsils. Which, it turned out, sounded a lot like a giraffe retching. Mack poured the hot water, dunked the teabags and dropped them in the bin. Sploshed in some milk and pulled out a chair for me to sit on.
I was now recovered.
‘That seems fast. I thought divorces took time.’
Mack sat opposite me. ‘She started the process over a year ago.’
I frowned. ‘But she invited you to London.’
He grimaced. ‘She invited me to reveal up close and personal how irredeemably over our marriage was. And, spending time with her and her swanky new bloke, seeing the woman she’s chosen to become, for the first time I thought that was probably for the best. The weekend visits were to supervise the house sale. She didn’t trust me to squeeze out maximum profit.’
‘I’m sorry.’ And in that moment, I really was. ‘I know it’s not what you wanted.’
It was Mack’s turn to flush. ‘Well. It had become harder not to want that. Which may be why I held on longer than I should. The guilt of being offered an easy way out. I didn’t want to break our vows, but I realised she’d already destroyed them. I watched Sienna with this smarmy fool and knew she’d never loved me. Not really. I’d probably have tried again, anyway, if she’d asked. Found a way to make it work. But I discovered in London that we didn’t even like each other any more. So, out of respect I agreed to sell the house, so she could make a clean break.’
‘Wow.’Wow. WOW! Information overload… systems in danger of overheating… Mack does not love or even like Sienna…
‘Why didn’t youtellme?’ I knew this wasn’t about me, or even about us, but, really, had all the jumbled emotions of the past few months – the guilt, the embarrassment, confusion and hurt – been for nothing?