The Other Man [Book One]

Chapter 36 - Sheets

Starting work distracted me from my decision for a couple of days. Will had expected me to come home apologetic and agreeing that I shouldn't take the new job, telling him that he was right. Instead, I came home and started choosing what to wear for my first day, which resulted in the usual silent treatment. Normally, I'd have been upset and eager to end his silence, to make everything better, but with the knowledge I wouldn't be dealing with his tantrums for much longer, I let him get on with it. I moved my things up into the bedroom at the top of the house, and made it known that there was nothing he could say that would hurt me. Having shown his entire hand, there was nothing left in reserve that would break me.

Until I saw Harry had blocked my number.

After I'd driven away from him, the messages back and forth were thick and fast. He even sent a bouquet of pink roses to my work on the first day, wishing me luck. I'd had to lie and say they were from Will, which caused my new colleagues to declare that my husband was a sweetheart, oohing and ahhing as I hid the card signed 'H' . We'd spoken on the phone that evening so I could thank him, and everything seemed to be alright. But then he went silent again, my messages going unread, until I figured out that he wasn't even getting them anymore.

I felt destroyed. My heart seemed to shatter into a million pieces, and once again, I was left alone. The nightmares began again, waking up each night in a pool of sweat with the lingering feel of a small hand in mine and the look of disgust at the person I truly was in Harry's eyes. I'd always try wake up before he appeared. He hadn't really been there that day so he wasn't truly part of the memory. But, night after night, I was tortured by his revulsion — a revulsion I was now fully convinced he truly felt for me.

The overwhelming sadness I felt was starting consume me, Harry's rejection having ripped out my heart in a way I'd never expected it to. I'd been so wary of how much I liked him, and he'd lowered my guard so I was as comfortable with him as I'd only ever been with Rose. I had genuinely felt safe with him. He'd told me he loved me, and had me thinking I possibly loved him, too, but it was all a lie. One big, fat, fucking lie. Harry Styles wasn't who I'd thought he was when I first met him — a serial womaniser. He was far, far worse. He'd played with my feelings and had enjoyed every second.

What made my body break into cold sweats was realising that Harry was never with me because he wanted to be with me; he was with me because he was fascinated by the mess of my marriage. He'd had a lot to say about Will and the way he treated me the last time we'd been together, talking about hearing him say terrible things about me. I'd believed him and thought he was genuinely looking out for me. For Harry, my marriage was the car wreck at the side of the road that people were watching with interest. He had just gone one step further and gotten into the car with us for a closer look.

Apart from going to work, I hid myself away for months, ignoring calls and messages from friends to go out for lunch or dinner. I would even make up excuses to not see Rose. She was loved up and happy with Dionne, I was not going to be the person to bring a depressing cloud around them. I'd thought to myself that friends were like family but the truth was that for those who have normal, loving families they don't need to have friends as replacement family members. Rose didn't need me as much now because she had Dionne. She'd never say that or even think it, but I knew it was true. Will was... well, Will, and he didn't even seem to care that we were practically living separate lives. He actually seemed to be glad of the fact! Everyone else? They just knew the me I presented to them.