The Other Man [Book One]

Chapter 22 - Lyin' Eyes

After a lot of research and worrying over what sort of place Harry would like, I found a hotel close to the Thames that was out-of-this-world beautiful. He had always chosen a suite, and this one had plenty of them to choose from so I sent the hotel link to him and he simply replied,

Stella
Two nights. Make sure you're free

My stomach fizzed at the idea of spending two whole nights with him; we'd managed a whole night once or twice, but it usually involved one of us leaving early. I was slightly worried that he would wear me out, or we'd get bored after the first night and run out of things to say or do. I guessed there were worse things to worry about, like what I was going to tell Will. I had almost asked Rose for an alibi if Will rang looking for me, but because he was away on a business trip with Terry, I would hopefully be the last thing on his mind as he wined and dined prospective suppliers.

I had decided not to tell Rose about my rendezvous with Harry; she was understanding, supportive, and didn't judge me, but she also had my best interests in mind, and knew how catastrophic it would be if Will ever found out. I appreciated her looking out for me, and knew if the shoe was on the other foot, I'd be as concerned and trying desperately to make her see sense, but I just didn't want to hear it. Sense was the last thing on my mind when it came to Harry, with reality coming a close second to last.

My stubbornness and determination to get my kicks with Harry was helped by the fact Will and I didn't really speak for the first week after the premiere incident. That night, I'd gone home to a dark and empty house, and he was nowhere to be seen. My calls and messages went ignored, so I went to bed, sent a text to Harry to let him know that I was home safe, then went to sleep.

The sound of the bedroom door being opened roughly woke me up, I sat and blearily watched as Will stomped into the room noisily with little regard for my slumber. His focus was on his performance - he wanted to make sure I knew he wasn't talking to me, that he was pissed off with me for his mistake. I made no effort to convince him to talk to me, just watched as he roughly pulled drawers open then slammed them shut again, disappeared into the walk in closet, then made sure to slam it closed when he came back out dressed for work. Confident he'd hammered the point home, Will left the bedroom with a huff. A few minutes later, I heard the front door close with a rattling bang.

He didn't come home at his usual time, and it was only because I contacted Mia and Terry to see if they knew where he was that I found out he was sleeping in Terry's spare room. When he return home after a few days, he remained mute and I felt like I was living with a dark, dark cloud.

Then suddenly, his mood passed, and instead of spending my sixth wedding anniversary binge-watching 'Dexter' on my own in bed while my husband was God-knows-where like I was expecting, I was taken out to dinner where he apologised for his behaviour. Of course, the apology wasn't so clear cut and I was made to feel like his mistake was my fault. Rather than argue my case and run the risk of extending the silent treatment, I bit my tongue and let it slide.