My Husband's Ex: A totally addictive psychological thriller packed with twists! by Rosie Walker

Author:Rosie Walker
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2024-05-03T00:00:00+00:00

17

But in the days that follow, Ted’s mind doesn’t change. In fact, he behaves as if we’d never had that conversation in our bedroom about decisions and choices. I could pretend everything is normal, except that he’s quiet, and he avoids me. He goes to bed before me and ensures he’s fast asleep when I come upstairs, or waits until I’m asleep before he slides between the covers. He spends more time in the gym, stays late at work, takes the girls swimming and to the park under the pretence of giving me a break, when actually it means that we have no opportunity to speak.

And the pregnancy test sits on his bedside table, the pink lines blurring and bleeding together. Every time I see it, the sick feeling rises in the back of my throat, and it’s unclear whether it’s the rising anxiety of an unresolved issue getting more and more urgent, or the start of the morning sickness that left me pale and weak in the first months of both of my previous pregnancies.

I continue to churn through the possibilities in my mind: keep the baby, accept the new life I’ve stumbled into, relinquish my ideas of the future and embrace the new world we’d be stepping into… or make the difficult decision and cling onto the familiar, the carefully planned, the wanted now that we chose.

No matter how many times I think about it, and how many angles I look at it from, I still come back to the same conclusion. And after a few days of thinking alone and without Ted’s moral support, I hit upon a new layer of clarity: a difficult decision can still be the right one.

Then one day, Ted comes home with a plastic bag, which he leaves on our bed. When I look inside, it’s a tiny newborn onesie from Marks & Spencer, with little hand coverings to protect the baby’s face from scratchy fingernails, and poppers up the front. I shove it back into the bag as if it’s burned my skin.

‘No,’ I say out loud, rolling up the bag and placing it back on the bed next to me. That ‘no’ refers to so much: Ted’s inability to talk about this, his assumption that we’d keep this baby with no further discussion, and now the outfit that he’s bought, as if by avoiding any confrontation he will just keep this train on the rails right to its destination. No to all of it.

I stand up, ready to clatter down the stairs and confront him where he’s sitting with the girls, one on either side of him, oblivious bodyguards protecting him from me. Enough. It’s time to talk.

But as I step towards the bedroom door, it swings open and Charley stands in the doorway, a funny look on her face. I gather her into my arms. ‘Is anything wrong?’ I ask quietly.

She shakes her head, but her little body shudders as she starts to cry.

I hold her tight and stay

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