Читать книгу The Wife: A gripping emotional thriller with a twist that will take your breath away - ML Roberts - Страница 13

I lean back against the counter and sip my wine, watching as our friends and neighbours chat and laugh. The party’s in full swing now. And as I look around me, it really is as if nothing has changed.

I turn away to refill my glass and I realise how nice it is to have the house full again. It feels good to hear laughter and music, any noise that helps drown out the lingering feeling of guilt.

I take another sip of wine. I need the Dutch courage and just as I’m about to turn back around, plaster on my perfect hostess face and join the party, I feel someone sidle up beside me, feel his hand brush mine as he takes the bottle from me and refills his own glass. I turn my head slightly and I smile at Michael, and his mouth catches mine in an unexpected kiss, which causes a small shiver to course right through me. But I know he’s just playing to the crowd. These brief, snatched moments when we’re in public; when we’re surrounded by people, that’s when I can pretend everything’s how it used to be, how we used to be. Before I questioned everything, before he became swathed in guilt and remorse for something he had no idea could have turned out the way it had.

He pulls back and his eyes meet mine, and I feel a wave of love so strong for this man it almost knocks the breath right out of me. And I wish with all of my heart that I knew how to fix what was broken, I really do. Brushing it under the carpet, ignoring it, that’s become the chosen option. Maybe it’s the only one we have left now, I don’t know.

He smiles at me, cups my cheek in the palm of his hand, his thumb lightly stroking my skin as he leans in to me, his mouth brushing against my ear. ‘You look beautiful tonight,’ he murmurs, his breath warm on my neck, and I bite down on my lip as he steps back from me, throws me one last smile, picks up his wine and walks back out into the party. That’s it. The moment’s gone. He’s played his part, done his bit. But I need him to show me that he loves me. I need him to make me feel as if he means it; make me feel the way he used to make me feel, when we’re alone, not just when we’re surrounded by others. I want him to listen to me and not walk out of a room or make excuses not to talk. I need him. And I love him. Of course I do.

A hand suddenly touching my arm makes me jump back, my heart beating ten to the dozen as I fall back against the counter, struggling to catch my breath.

‘Jesus, Ellie, I’m sorry … I’m sorry.’

‘Oh God. You scared the hell out of me!’ I laugh a bit too loudly to cover up the panic that shot through my body.

I look up at Liam and his expression is genuinely apologetic. He didn’t mean to scare me. ‘It’s fine, really. I’m just exhausted, what with the spa opening yesterday, and organising this party.’

‘The one that Michael didn’t want.’ He leans back against the counter beside me and folds his arms, staring out ahead of him.

‘The one we needed to throw.’

‘Why?’ He turns his head to look at me. ‘Because you want everyone to think everything is normal?’

‘Nothing’s normal any more, Liam. I’m just trying to keep up a pretence, that’s all. It’s what Michael wants. And you didn’t have to come tonight. Not if you didn’t want to.’

‘Michael’s my best friend. You know how important you are to me. Of course I had to come.’

He reaches behind him for the bottle of Scotch on the counter, grabs a tumbler from the tray and pours himself a drink.

‘You should come and join the party. People are starting to ask why you’re hanging around in here.’

I watch him head back out into the crowd, and he’s right. I should go and join the party.

Glancing around me I try to find Michael, but I can’t see him. Maybe he’s outside. It’s a beautiful evening and the orangery doors are wide open, so I look out there. And, yes, there he is, standing at the edge of the decking, a little way away from everyone else who’s ventured outside on this beautiful spring evening. He has his phone to his ear, surprise surprise, his head down. It’ll just be work. Something’s come up, that’s all it’ll be. Nothing is happening here. I know that. Don’t I? He’s just talking to one of his students, a work colleague, nothing is happening.

I can’t stop myself from turning back around to watch my husband. He’s still talking into his phone, his body language only slightly animated, and when he smiles and laughs I feel my stomach dip. Well, as long as he’s fine. He’s not letting what happened affect him. I feel angry, envious that he can just push it aside as if it never happened. I can’t do that. I can’t. I can’t pretend, like he can.

Without thinking I put down my drink and slip away into the hall. I go upstairs. I need a few minutes alone. Going into our room I head over to Michael’s side of the bed, crouching down in front of the small chest of drawers, and for a second I just stay there, I don’t move. Am I really doing this? Is this what it’s come to? Is this the woman I’m turning into?

I reach out and slowly slide open the top drawer, leaning forward to peer inside, but a sudden noise coming from the landing outside makes me jump. I almost fall backwards as I let go of the drawer handle and I have to grab hold of the duvet to steady myself. There are voices outside in the hallway and I realise now that it’s just friends from the party looking for the bathroom. My heart is still hammering away against my ribs.

Deep breath. Calm down, Ellie. I peer back inside the drawer. The contents are lined up neat and tidy – a couple of pens, a notebook, some papers he’s using to help his research. Michael’s writing another book and he likes to make notes before he goes to sleep.

I reach inside and lift up the notebook, but there’s nothing underneath it. Did I think there would be? I open it, still not entirely sure what I’m looking for, but I quickly flick through it anyway. And there’s nothing but page after page of Michael’s ridiculously neat handwriting. What was I expecting to find, exactly? I don’t know, because I’m not thinking straight. I just know that he’s hiding something from me. Again. Something’s going on. Michael’s behaviour – it’s familiar. He’s been like this once before. It’s happening again.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, crossing my legs up underneath myself, the noise and the chatter from the party drifting upstairs. I look at the picture of me and Michael hanging on the wall opposite our bed. One of our wedding photos, blown up and framed in all its perfect glory. Two smiling, incredibly happy people, madly in love. We had everything. We had it all, that perfect life, that exciting future ahead of us. Until it was all snatched away, just like that. We lost it all.

There was a time when I thought nobody knew me better than my husband. When I fell in love with Michael, I fell hard. I fell so hard, because I never thought a man like him could love someone like me. He was the charismatic one, the centre of attention. I was the adoring wife. But he’s underestimated me. You see, I’m not ready to lose my husband. So whatever’s going on, whatever he thinks he can hide from me, I’m going to find out what it is. Whatever it takes.