The Husband's Secret

‘Seriously.’

Felicity exhaled. ‘Well, Tess, that’s – I don’t know.’ She looked around the room for inspiration and returned her gaze to Tess. ‘Three days ago you said you would not have Liam growing up with divorced parents. You said, you wanted your husband back. You made me feel like the worst person in the world. And now you tell me that you’ve just jumped straight into an affair with an ex-boyfriend, while Will and I, we never even – God!’ She thumped her fist on the side of Tess’s bed, her colour high, her eyes shining with fury.

The injustice, and perhaps the justice, of Felicity’s words took Tess’s breath away.

‘Don’t be so pious.’ She shoved Felicity’s skinny thigh as hard as she could, childishly, like a kid on a bus. It felt strangely good. She did it again, harder. ‘You are the worst person in the world. Do you think I would have even looked at Connor if you and Will hadn’t made your announcement?’

‘You didn’t muck about though, did you? Bloody hell, stop hitting me!’

Tess gave her one final shove and sat back. She had never felt such an overwhelming desire to hit someone before. She had certainly never given in to it. It seemed that all the niceties that made her a socially acceptable grown-up had been stripped away. Last week she was a school mum and a professional. Now she was having sex in hallways and hitting her cousin. What next?

She took a deep, shaky breath. In the heat of the moment, they called it. She had never realised just how hot the heat of the moment could get.

‘Anyway,’ said Felicity. ‘Will wants to work things out, and I’m leaving the country. So do whatever you want to do.’

‘Thanks,’ said Tess. ‘Thanks very much. Thanks for everything.’ She could feel the anger almost physically draining from her body, leaving her limp and detached.

There was silence for a moment.

‘He wants another baby,’ said Felicity.

‘Don’t tell me what he wants.’

‘He really wants another baby.’

‘And I suppose you would have liked to have given him one,’ said Tess.

Felicity’s eyes filled. ‘Yes. I’m sorry, but yes.’

‘For God’s sake, Felicity. Don’t make me feel bad for you. It’s not fair. Why did you have to fall in love with my husband? Why couldn’t you have fallen in love with someone else’s husband?’

‘We never really saw anyone else,’ Felicity laughed as the tears rolled down her face. She wiped the back of her hand across her nose.

That was true.

‘He doesn’t think he can ask you to go through another pregnancy because of how sick you got with Liam,’ said Felicity. ‘But it might not be as bad with a second pregnancy, right? Every pregnancy is different, isn’t it? You should have another baby.’

‘Do you really think we’re going to have a baby now and live happily ever after?’ said Tess. ‘A baby doesn’t fix a marriage. Not that I even knew my marriage needed fixing.’

‘I know, I just thought –’

‘It’s not really because of the sickness that I don’t want a baby,’ she said to Felicity. ‘It’s because of the people.’

‘The people?’

‘The other mothers, the teachers, the people. I didn’t realise that having a child was so social. You’re always talking to people.’

‘So what?’ Felicity looked mystified.

‘I have this disorder. I did a quiz in a magazine. I have –’ Tess lowered her voice. ‘I have social anxiety.’

‘You do not,’ said Felicity dismissively.

‘I do so! I did the quiz –’

‘You’re seriously diagnosing yourself based on some quiz in a magazine?’

‘It was Reader’s Digest, not Cosmopolitan. And it’s true! I can’t stand meeting new people. I get sick. I have heart palpitations. I can’t stand parties.’

‘Lots of people don’t like parties. Get over yourself.’

Tess was taken aback. She had expected hushed pity.

‘You’re shy,’ said Felicity. ‘You’re not one of those loud-mouthed extroverts. But people like you. People really like you. Haven’t you ever noticed that? I mean, God, Tess, how could you have had all those boyfriends if you were such a shy, nervy little thing? You had about thirty boyfriends before you were twenty-five.’

Tess rolled her eyes. ‘I did not.’

How could she explain to Felicity that her anxiety was like a strange mercurial little pet she was forced to look after? Sometimes it was quiet and pliable, other days it was crazy, running around in circles, yapping in her ear. Besides, dating was different. Dating had its own definite set of rules. She could do dating. A first date with a new man had never been a problem. (As long as he asked her out, of course. She never did the asking.) It was when the man asked her to meet his family and friends that her anxiety reared its freaky little head.

‘And by the way, if you really had “social anxiety”, why did you never tell me?’ said Felicity with total confidence that she knew everything there was to know about Tess.

‘I never had a name for it before,’ said Tess. ‘I never had words to describe this feeling until a few months ago.’ And because you were part of my cover identity. Because you and I pretended together that we didn’t care what other people thought of us, that we were superior to just about the whole world. If I’d admitted to you how I felt, I would have had to admit that not only did I care what other people thought, I cared far too much.