On Hart's Boardwalk (On Dublin Street 6.7)

“Liv, have you spoken to him about it?”

“I’m afraid to. I’m afraid to know what’s going on in his head because I don’t think I’m going to like it. I’m not what I was.” I gestured to myself. “I mean, I’ve never been perfect, but you know Nate, he liked his women any way he could get them. I wonder if this disconnect between us, this distance, is because Peetie’s death has made him think about his own life, and maybe it’s not what he thought it would be. I’m scared he’s unhappy with where our life is now. That he’s fallen out of love with me.” I wiped at the tears that flowed silently and quickly down my cheeks.

“Never, Liv, never.” Jo shook her head, adamant. “This is Nate we’re talking about.”

“But you haven’t been here. You haven’t . . . It’s the little things, you know. We used to kiss and cuddle after sex and talk about our day. In the morning, he’d always kiss me before seeing to the girls. And then he’d kiss me before he left the house. I’d be doing the dishes or making dinner, or pottering around, and if the girls were out of sight, he’d come up behind me and feel me up like we were teenagers. It’s all gone now. It all stopped after Peetie died, and I have no clue what that means. I just . . . I feel him slipping through my hands and I have all these thoughts racing around in my mind.”

“What thoughts?”

“That maybe he has met someone else.” The words were out before I could stop them. My deepest fear, finally given a voice.

Jo looked horrified by the suggestion. “No way. Nate would never cheat on you.”

“I know that.” I did know that. “That doesn’t mean he hasn’t met someone.” I took a huge swig of wine, trying to numb the knife-like hurt the thought provoked in my gut. “I don’t know what else to think. I’m just so tired of feeling invisible whenever my husband is around.”

My friend stared at me thoughtfully. “What are you saying? That you don’t want to be with him anymore?”

“I’m saying I hate the way I feel about myself when I’m with him.” And no, that couldn’t last. For the sake of my kids and my sanity, that couldn’t last.

Scooching forward on the armchair she sat on, Jo said, “I’ll tell you something that I haven’t told anyone. A few years ago, Cam and I went through a pretty bad rough patch. It was when he started his new job and he was working constantly. Any free time he had he spent with Belle, which I didn’t begrudge at all.” She referred to their daughter. Belle was seven years old now, and a big sister to Jo and Cam’s one-year-old son, Louie. “I started to feel just like you said—invisible. And hurt. So hurt, Liv.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it in solidarity. “Finally, I turned up at his work on Valentine’s Day. He’d said he was working late but I wanted to surprise him. Instead I was surprised to discover that while he was supposedly working late, some young, gorgeous little witch of a colleague was perched on his desk, flirting with him. I lost it. Everything I’d been feeling those last few months just came rushing out of me in a hurt rage. I threatened to leave him.”

“Oh my God.” I’d had no idea Jo and Cam had ever had a moment in their relationship when Jo would ever think of leaving him.

“As wrong as Cam had been to take me for granted, I was wrong, too. I didn’t tell him how I was feeling because I was scared of what he’d say. So instead I let it fester, until it blew up into a massive argument. Threatening to leave him hurt him as much as his neglect hurt me. It was a mess. A mess that might not have happened if I’d just spoken up about how I was feeling.”

“But you’re okay now?”

“Of course we are,” she assured me. “And you and Nate will be, too.”

I shook my head, still gripped too tightly by my fear. “I think I’m afraid to know the truth.”

Before Jo could respond, we startled at the sound of the front door slamming shut. I frowned, glancing at the clock on the wall. I thought Nate was taking Jan out for dinner after their day together. And why was he slamming the door?

Uh oh.

I really hoped daddy-daughter day hadn’t ended in disaster.

Jo leaned into me quickly, her thumb swiping under my right eye. “A little bit of mascara,” she whispered.

I smiled gratefully at my friend. Even if she thought I needed to speak with Nate, she wanted me to reveal everything at my pace. The last thing I needed was Nate seeing evidence of my tears and questioning it.

The door to the snug opened and Nate nodded at Jo as he wandered over to the stereo to turn off Lord Huron. “Alright, Jo?” he asked.

“Good. You?”

“Aye, not bad.” He finally looked at me and I stiffened at the blank expression he wore. “Lucy’s mum called and said Lily is staying for dinner. Mum and Dad caught up with me and Jan in the city today. They wanted to take her for dinner so she’s with them and then they’re going to pick Lily up from Lucy’s for us later. Means it’s just us for dinner tonight. Unless you’re staying, Jo?”

“Oh, no. I better get back.” Jo stood up.

“I’ll give you a lift,” I said, scrambling to my feet.

“I’ll do it.” Nate nodded to my wine.

Of course. I gave him a tremulous, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

“I don’t want to put you out, Nate,” Jo said, grabbing her purse off the floor.

“When is getting you home safe ever putting me out, sweetheart?” he said congenially.

She smiled at him and then hugged me tight. So tight. And I knew it was her way of silently saying “talk to him and I’ll be here for you after.” I loved my friend. I kissed her cheek and bid her good-bye.

“I’ll make dinner,” I said as I followed them to the door and asked Nate. “What do you fancy?”

“Let’s order something in,” he said, not looking at me. “When I get back.”

As I waited for him to come home to our empty nest, I paced and paced, and paced some more, wondering if Jo was right and I should come out and ask him up front what was going on.

I thought I’d even worked up the courage, but when Nate finally walked through that door my bravery fled. Instead I wondered if it might be possible to just try and make things better with him. I didn’t want to leave my husband, for goodness sake! I just had to stop feeling sorry for myself and try harder.

So when he was pouring me another glass of wine as we waited on our Chinese takeaway being delivered, I hugged into his side.

He didn’t pull away but he didn’t hug me back either.

The distance between us was even worse than usual. Nate seemed far away, pensive, lost in his thoughts. I knew he wasn’t even paying attention to the action movie I’d put on and it was one of his favorites.

Foreboding crept over me as the evening progressed, lightened marginally when Nate’s parents, Nathan and Sylvie, dropped the kids off and stayed for a cup of tea. Nate laughed with the kids and put them to bed.

However, when his parents left and he and I went to bed, the distance became cavernous.

I switched off my bedside lamp like always and waited.

Nate switched off his light.

The duvet shifted as he pulled it toward him.

No good night.

No kiss.

No sex.

Chapter Three

Sleep evaded me for most of the night, and just as I eventually drifted off into dreamland, the dawning sun shone through our curtains and prodded my eyes open. I lay there, in the early hours of the morning, with my back to my husband, staring at the wall in front of me.

The whole time I questioned whether I was blowing things out of proportion. Maybe I was being ungrateful. Maybe this was how marriage progressed and I needed to wake up to the reality of it.

I’d just never thought that my marriage would be like so many others. For the longest time, I was annoyingly smug about our relationship. I always thought the reason Nate and I had such a strong marriage was because we started out as best friends. We used to be able to tell each other everything. We had the same sense of humor. I mean we laughed a lot. And just as important as our emotional connection was our physical connection. Up until a year or so ago our sex life had been fantastic. Of course, it was never going to be the same after we had kids, because we didn’t have the same privacy, but we got creative. We made time for our passion for one another.

Until we stopped making time.

“I know you’re awake,” Nate said, and I felt the mattress move and the duvet shift over me as Nate turned.

Surprised, I slowly turned around to face him, shoving my hair out of my face. Nate lay with his elbow bent on his pillow and his head braced on the palm of his hand. There was pain in his eyes, and, if I wasn’t mistaken, remorse.

“Nate?” I sat up, my head feeling heavy with lack of sleep.

He licked his lips, his eyes intensely focused on mine. “Yesterday, I got home earlier than you think I did. I heard yours and Jo’s voices coming from the snug over the music, and I was about to go in, let you know I was home, when your conversation stopped me.”

Fear settled weightily in my gut. “Nate—“

“Stop.” He pushed up off the pillow and sat up, running his fingers through his mass of hair. “I didn’t know how to react yesterday and I probably made everything worse.”