Page 54 of You Were Always the One

19

RIGGS

Just as one aspect of my life is turned upside down, there’s another unexpected twist when one evening, Emma brings a man home.

‘Rigby? This is Archie. We met through work – he’s a first officer at the airline.’

‘Hi.’ Trying to hide my surprise, I hold out a hand, already wondering how long they’ve known each other, then if I should give them some privacy. ‘Nice to meet you. I, er, was just going to do some writing, actually.’

‘You don’t need to leave,’ Emma says. ‘Archie knows about the baby – and about us.’

‘Ah.’ I pause. ‘Even more nice to meet you,’ I say to him, mildly impressed. ‘Can I get you a beer?’ Behind him, Emma is shaking her head.

‘I’ll get them,’ she says.

‘Have a seat,’ I say to Archie. He’s about my height, my age. His hair is even like mine – just tidier, I can’t help noticing. And then it strikes me that this is yet another brain fuck. That this guy is in my house, when Emma is pregnant with our baby. For the life of me, I cannot decide if this is a good thing.

Coming back in, Emma passes me a beer.

‘On second thoughts, I’ll leave you to it,’ I say.

‘For fuck’s sake, Rigby.’ Usually super-in-control, Emma looks flustered. ‘I know this is weird. But as you keep reminding me, things weren’t right between us.’

And because I’m grateful, firstly, that she’s acknowledging that, even in front of someone I don’t know, and secondly, that she’s trying to move on, I try to be a grown-up. ‘It’s all true,’ I say to Archie. I stop short of saying that in a bizarre way, he could be doing us both a favour. ‘The fact that the three of us are having a beer together is a measure of just how wrong Emma and I were together.’

Archie looks uncomfortable. ‘Look, if it’s easier I go, say the word. I don’t want to get in the way of anything.’

‘You’re not. He means it,’ Emma says. ‘Anyway, I just wanted you two to meet.’ She edges closer, so that their shoulders are touching.

Is she trying to make me jealous, or does she really like him? ‘Cheers,’ I say to break the awkwardness before, as soon as I can, escaping to my study.

I find out the next morning that they’ve been seeing quite a lot of each other.

‘We’ve been friends for a while. He’s a really nice guy. Look, I thought I should ask you, given our unusual living arrangements.’ She hesitates. ‘Would you mind if he stays over occasionally?’ she asks.

I’m not at all sure how that makes me feel. But hey, we’re soon-to-be divorced, after all. ‘Fine with me,’ I say, not sure why Emma gives me a funny look.

In truth, I’d probably rather Emma stayed at Archie’s. But talk about real life being stranger than fiction. Lying in bed a couple of nights later, I hear the murmur of voices from the spare room, then the unmistakable rhythmic sounds of people having sex. I cover my head with a pillow. If I needed proof that Emma and I are over, this most definitely is it. Then I’m thinking about Holly; about how much I need to see her.

The next morning, when I go downstairs, the house is empty. Thank God. Then a welcome item of post arrives. The court have processed my divorce application. Looking at the rest of the post, there’s a similar envelope addressed to Emma. Even though we’ve agreed on this, part of me wonders how she’ll react. But it’s the next step, I tell myself. Baby or no baby, it has to happen.

And then I’m back to my book. To the moment it all changed for Holly and me. I stop typing. Sitting there, I stare at what I’ve just written as what really happened to Holly and me starts falling into place. It wasn’t just that Holly wanted sensible. I wasn’t there when she needed me, because I was at a party, getting drunk.

And because of that, I broke us.

Why hadn’t I gone after her when she walked away? Persuaded her to give us another try? But I know why. Then, I didn’t want to change. I was too stuck in my selfish ways to think about what Holly needed.

Maybe that’s the root of what went wrong with Emma, too. Determined to write, I haven’t thought about what she needs, instead relying on her to earn the money that’s paid our bills. Because the fact is, my writing doesn’t generate anything like enough money to live off.

If I could go back, I know what I would have done. I would have gone after Holly. I would have realised that what we had was something most people never find. In short, I would have done whatever it took for us to build a life together.

As I imagine how it might have been, I wonder if somewhere, out there, it’s happening in a parallel universe. If it’s too late to make a difference.

NINETEEN YEARS AGO

As Skye opened the door, I was shocked into action.

‘Skye. Please. Don’t go like this,’ I called out.