I was still breathless in the morning. I’d never had sex like that before. The sort of sex that left you aching, yearning. The sort of sex that actually made you feel sexual. Made you appreciate your own body; revel in its beauty, its worth. No part left untouched. It was all new to me.
But as good as it was, I couldn’t forget what I’d done to Jamie. I’d cheated on him, and I’d never forgive myself for doing that to someone. Someone I was certain I still loved, even if not in the way I used to. I knew it was wrong, what I’d done, and I knew what I needed to do. I had to come clean, and end it, before anything else happened. I knew I couldn’t make it right. I’d made it all wrong the moment I realised my feelings for Ray. But I could make it better than it was.
I dressed quickly and called a taxi. I stood outside, waiting for it. The cold morning air was sobering. It brought me back to the real world for a while. I was a few inches off the ground whenever I was with Ray; I needed to touch the floor for a while. Stop living the high life and face up to facts.
I’d always thought Jamie was “the one.” If I didn’t, I never would have moved to Liverpool with him. I thought we’d have a church wedding, despite neither of us being religious, with me in a white dress and him in a tux. We’d honeymoon somewhere hot (I wanted to do Vegas, but Jamie wouldn’t hear of it) and then settle down, have a career, three kids and a pet rabbit. We’d have very ordinary, but happy lives, and it all seemed reasonably appealing.
But Ray would do Vegas. Hell, we’d move there permanently. Forget rabbits, we’d have Barnaby, and gem incrusted goblets filled with a never ending stream of champagne. It would all be concerts and sex and Cirque de Soleil; and we’d probably die young, but we’d die in style. We’d be remembered. We’d have an imperfect, chaotic life that never wanted to stand still.
I never really thought that was our future. I didn’t even know if we had a future, but I was just certain, suddenly, that my future wasn’t with Jamie. And it made me sad. It scared me; all my plans were gone. But maybe it’s a good thing. Maybe you don’t need a rule book; maybe you should just go with the flow for once.
The taxi arrived, and I gave the woman my address. It occurred to me that it wouldn’t be my address for much longer; I’d have to move out. It was Jamie’s house. Where will I go? I didn’t expect I’d move in with Ray. At least, not right away. Maybe I can stay with Emma…
“Good night?” the taxi driver asked, chewing gum loudly.
“I’m a little hung over, to be honest.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. You reek of the drink. Must have been a hell of a party, in that big house.”
“It was,” I admitted “I don’t think my boyfriend will approve, though.”
“Well, you don’t listen to him, honey. You’re young. You need some freedom.”
You don’t know how right you are.
I tipped the driver a little more than usual and got out. I stared at the house for a while. My home. Or it used to feel like it was. I used to look forward to coming home. Eating dinner at the table with Jamie, then watching the news together, or a film, or both reading my new article together. It seemed a long way in the past after that week. That week, it felt more like a place I was forced to stay in; like being in a hotel miles from home. I longed to feel a sense of home again. But I knew I wouldn’t again in that house.
The worst part was waiting for Jamie to come home from work. I started packing some of my things, stripping my half of our bedroom bare. I debated over some of the things; was it OK for me to take Jamie’s shirt, the one I wore for bed? I decided it wasn’t. I left it folded neatly on my side of the bed.
We’d bought so much of our stuff together, that it was hard deciding what counted as mine. I packed a few things, but mostly, I left it. I decided that since I was the one who’d finally cut the cord that I didn’t deserve to hang on to the leftovers of us.
He arrived home at seven. I was waiting for him. I’d been waiting for hours. He took a long look at the hold-all at my feet, then at my expression. And I think he knew then. I took a deep breath, trying not to let everything my heart was feeling bleed into my words.
“This isn’t going to work.”
***
I hovered by the door. Jamie’s arms were folded, and he wasn’t looking at me. He’d been crying, which made everything so much worse. I didn’t know how to say goodbye. I knew I didn’t have the right to touch him, hug him, even shake his hand. And why would I do those things anyway? He wasn’t mine to hug or touch, but we weren’t acquaintances, so we couldn’t shake hands, like we were sealing a deal. Even though in those moments, we were.
Everything was changing.
“I’ll call in a few days,” I whispered. He looked up for a split second, shrugged, and returned his gaze to his shoes.
“You don’t have to do that,” he told me.
I swallowed “I…I will anyway.”
I untangled my house key from the rest of my keys and gently placed it on the shoe cabinet. I wanted to keep it, as a reminder of us, but I knew it was out of the question. Jamie walked back into the front room as I let myself out. Everything was already in the car. Quivering, I shut the door behind me. I climbed into the front seat of the car and clutched the wheel, staring out the front window.
Now what?
I started the car, still not knowing what to do. I drove away from the house and around town for about an hour. It was late by that point. Nearly eleven o’clock. I knew I had to find somewhere to stay. So I drove to Emma’s and waited pathetically outside her house until she came to the door. I practically collapsed into her, sobbing. She stroked the back of my head, keeping me together.
“Tell me everything.”
***
I stayed at Emma’s for a few days, working on my article about Ray. I kept my phone switched off the whole time, trying to gain some closure. I wasn’t ready to talk to Ray about it. I was sure she’d understand where I was and what I’d done. She knew it was her I wanted.
Ed and Emma kept me afloat. They didn’t talk much about Ray or Jamie; they knew that wasn’t what I needed. We had silly nights in, each of them with equally silly themes; Sambuca Sunday, Twister Tuesday, Funny Film Friday. I finished my article on the Saturday, a whole week after I left Jamie. I’d managed to heal, a little. And I knew it was time to contact Ray. I’d texted her a few times during the week, but she hadn’t replied. I knew she was busy with band things again, now that the interview week was over. I supposed she’d get around to texting when she had time, but she hadn’t as of yet, so I rang her as I parked outside her house. I figured if she wasn’t in, I could always try again another day.
She picked up after the fourth ring.
“Hey,” I breathed.
“Freya.” Is it just me, or is her voice cold?
“Sorry I didn’t call sooner. I’ve been…sorting things. You know.”
“I wasn’t waiting for you…”
“Oh…that’s OK then. How are you?”
“Good.” Her breathing was heavy, like she’d just been running.
“Well…are you home? I’m outside. Can we talk?”
“Oh…now you want to talk?”
“…what? Yes, I want to talk! About what happened!”
That’s when Ray showed up in the window. She smiled a little, and I smiled back; as usual, she took my breath away. She stood boldly in her underwear, hair ruffled, no makeup.
“You look…beautiful.”
Ray laughed. But it seemed a little off. It wasn’t a happy sound “Nice of you to say. Nice of you to notice me. Where have you been?”
“I...I was sorting things, I told you! I’m sorry, but I’ve…I’ve been a bit of a mess.”
“Yeah, well, sorry if I’m not overly sympathetic. You could have called.”
There was a long silence. I was taken aback, her words stabbing at me “Look, Ray, you’re not being fair.”
“Fair? You’re going to talk about fair?” I watched her face harden, her dark eyebrows knitting together. And for a moment, I was staring at a stranger “I’ll give you fair, Freya Sherman.”
There was a rustling sound at the other end of the line. I watched Ray turn her head. Smile. Cruel, cold, like she was only several weeks earlier. My heart was thudding against my chest.
And then I saw her.
I watched Ellie bury her face into Ray’s neck, kissing her, nipping her skin. I stumbled back, and heard Ray’s breathy laugh.
“See you around, Sherman.”
Then she hung up the phone. I watched her turn to Ellie. Bury her hands in her hair. Grope at her chest, smother her lips with her own. I was suffocating. Watching was killing me, but I couldn’t look away. And for the last time, Ray looked right at me, her eyes gleaming. She gave me a twisted smile, and winked slowly, like she was letting me in on a big secret.
Then she shut the curtains.