The Husband's Secret

That’s why she was so furious with him for thinking they could all three live together, because it wasn’t entirely preposterous, not for them. She understood why they thought it was possible, and that made it all the more infuriating, because how could that be?

‘We should finish hiding these stupid eggs,’ she said.

‘Wait. Can we sit for a moment?’ He gestured at the table where she’d sat eating hot cross buns and texting Connor in the sunlight yesterday, a million years ago. Tess sat down and put the bag of eggs on the table and folded her arms, tucking her hands into her armpits.

‘Are you too cold?’ asked Will anxiously.

‘It’s not exactly balmy,’ snapped Tess. She was all dry-eyed detachment now. ‘But it’s fine. Go ahead. Say your thing.’

Will said, ‘You’re right. There wasn’t anything wrong with our marriage. I was happy with us. It’s just that I was sort of unhappy with me.’

‘How? Why?’ Tess lifted her chin. She already felt defensive. If he was unhappy then it had to be her fault. Her cooking, her conversation, her body. Something wasn’t up to scratch.

‘This will sound so lame,’ said Will. He looked up to the sky and took a breath. ‘This is in no way an excuse. Don’t think that for a second. But about six months ago, after my fortieth, I started to feel so . . . the only word I can think of is “bland”. Or “flat” might be a better word.’

‘Flat,’ repeated Tess.

‘Remember how I had all those troubles with my knee? And then my back went? I thought, Jesus, is this life now? Doctors and pills and pain and bloody heat packs? Already? It’s all over? So there was that, and then one day . . . okay, so this is embarrassing.’

He chewed his lip and continued. ‘I got my hair cut, right? And my normal guy wasn’t there, and for some reason the girl held up this mirror to show me the back of my head. I don’t know why she would feel the need to do that. I swear to you, I nearly fell off my chair when I saw my bald spot. I thought it was some other bloke’s head. I looked like Friar Bloody Tuck. I had no idea.’

Tess snorted and Will grinned ruefully. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I know. I just started feeling so . . . middle-aged.’

‘You are middle-aged,’ said Tess.

‘Thank you,’ he winced. ‘I know. Anyway, this flat feeling. It came and went. It was no big deal. I was waiting for it to pass. Hoping it would pass. And then . . .’ He stopped.

‘And then Felicity,’ supplied Tess.

‘Felicity,’ said Will. ‘I always cared about Felicity. You know how we were together. That sort of banter thing we did. Almost flirting. It was never serious. But then, after she lost the weight, I started to sense this . . . vibe from her. And I guess I was flattered, and it didn’t seem to count, because it was Felicity, not some random woman. It was safe. It didn’t feel like I was betraying you. It felt almost like she was you. But then, somehow, it got out of hand and I found myself . . .’ He stopped himself.

‘Falling in love with her,’ said Tess.

‘No, not really. I don’t think it was really love. It was nothing. As soon as you and Liam walked out the door I knew it was nothing. It was just a stupid crush, a –’

‘Stop.’ Tess held up her palm as if to put it across his mouth. She didn’t want lies, even if they were white lies, or even if he didn’t know they were lies, and she also felt a peculiar sense of loyalty towards Felicity. How could he say it was nothing when Felicity’s feelings had been so real and powerful and when he’d been prepared to sacrifice everything for her? Will was right. She wasn’t just some random girl. She was Felicity.

‘Why didn’t you ever tell me about the flat feeling?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know,’ said Will. ‘Because it was idiotic. Feeling depressed about my bald spot. Jesus.’ He shrugged. She wasn’t sure if it was just the lighting, but his colour seemed high. ‘Because I didn’t want to lose your respect.’

Tess laid her hands down on the table and looked at them. She thought about how one of the jobs of advertising was to give the consumer rational reasons for their irrational purchases. Had Will looked back on his ‘thing’ with Felicity and thought, Why did I do that? And then he created this story for himself, which was loosely based on the truth?

‘Well, anyway, I have social anxiety,’ she said chattily.

‘Pardon?’ Will frowned, as if he’d just been presented with a tricky riddle.

‘I get very anxious, over-the-top anxious, about certain social activities. Not everything. Just some things. It’s not a big deal. But sometimes it is.’

Will pressed his fingertips to his forehead. He seemed puzzled and almost fearful. ‘I mean, I know you don’t like parties much, but you know, I’m not that keen on standing around making small talk myself.’

‘I have heart palpitations about the school trivia night,’ said Tess. She looked him squarely in the eye. She felt naked. More naked than she’d ever been in front of him.

‘But we don’t go to the school trivia night.’

‘I know. That’s why we don’t go.’

Will lifted his palms. ‘We don’t have to go! I don’t care if we don’t go.’

Tess smiled. ‘But I sort of care. Who knows? It might be fun. It might be boring. I don’t know. That’s why I’m telling you. I’d like to start being a little more . . . open to my life.’