Confetti Over Bluebell Cliff by Della Galton

Author:Della Galton [Galton, Della]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books

18

The truth was, Harry thought as he drove into work on Monday morning, there was a lot more wrong with his marriage than even he had imagined. This had become more and more apparent as the last dreadful weekend had progressed.

Black Saturday, as he’d already labelled it in his mind, had been just the beginning. He was still processing everything. But the truth was now clear to him. He’d been as much in denial about his marriage as he had been about his weight.

He wasn’t sure which of the events had smashed his denial. It may have been the fact that Annabel had actually gone through their security-camera footage, presumably in the hope she’d find something incriminating. Or it may have been the expression on her face when she had showed him the clip of him reaching into the bin. That look of utter disgust and contempt that she’d directed at him.

Both things were burned on his brain. You didn’t look for evidence to incriminate someone you loved. She had crossed a line there. Even so, he could possibly have forgiven her for that. Maybe he could even have forgotten it in time. Put it down to an overzealous concern about his well-being.

But he knew he wouldn’t forget the way she’d looked at him. You didn’t look at someone you loved like that. Not unless they had committed some terrible crime. And maybe not even then. Love didn’t do that. At least the love he felt for her would never have done that.

But was it love? He’d started to ask himself that question. Maybe it had actually been closer to blind adoration? Harry was beginning to question his entire marriage.

It wasn’t as though they hadn’t talked either. They’d talked on Saturday evening and nearly all day Sunday. He’d had enough full and frank discussions to last him a lifetime. They had started with the wheelie bin chocolate and the issues with Mr B’s calorie-controlled meals and the issues – at least as she saw them – with his weight. But they hadn’t talked about that for long because it was quickly clear to Harry that the problems in their marriage had nothing to do with these things.

Now, as he pulled up in his space in the car park outside his office, he still felt shaky when he recalled the last conversation they’d had yesterday.

‘The truth is I just don’t fancy you any more,’ she had said as they’d sat opposite each other at the breakfast island alongside the shiny range oven she’d insisted he buy but that she had barely used. There was a thin layer of dust across its surface, testament to how little it had been switched on. It was amazing how much irrelevant detail you noticed when you were in shock, Harry thought.

‘I see,’ he had said quietly. ‘So when did you stop “fancying” me?’ He’d mimed the quotation marks around the word ‘fancying’ with his hands. Even though on some level he knew the answer already.

She’d shrugged.

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