later Will appeared in her kitchen and sat down on one of the mismatched chairs she’d paid an inordinate amount of money for in a second-hand furniture shop down the high street. The sextet of chairs now surrounding her heavy oak kitchen table said quirky, eclectic, free-spirited … Which was the look she’d been going for. Even if she did feel a bit of a fake when she sat in them sometimes.
He looked all fresh and windblown and she felt her stomach do that weird thing again. She’d been with Greg so long that she’d all but forgotten what the first flush of attraction felt like. Was this it? Or was it just her IBS flaring up again? She really couldn’t say.
‘Please tell me there really is fudge,’ he said, looking at the tray still cooling on the kitchen counter.
She picked it up and placed it into the centre of the kitchen table, but it went too quiet as he watched her cut it into neat squares and suddenly she felt very self-conscious under his gaze. ‘More tea?’ she asked a little too loudly, and prised a generous helping of clotted cream fudge onto a plate.
Will shook his head. ‘I think I’ve already drunk a gallon this afternoon.’
Juliet frowned as she divided one of the fudge squares in two and popped it on a plate for herself. ‘It’s a bit rich to eat on its own.’ She scanned the kitchen, looking for something else to offer him, and her gaze came to rest on a bottle sitting near the hob, one she’d opened for the casserole she’d made yesterday. She grabbed the red wine and plonked it down on the kitchen table with a thud.
Will’s eyebrows raised.
‘You’re right,’ she said, sighing. ‘It has been one hell of a week.’
She peeked out of the window. Although it was just after four, the sun was close to setting. It was practically evening. Not too early for a civilised glass of wine with a friend.
He didn’t exactly smile, but his eyes warmed, so she fetched a couple of glasses from the cabinet and poured them both a modest amount. It didn’t take long to fill him in on the whole story of Aunt Sylvia’s great escape the day before. Somehow her glass emptied and she found herself reaching for the bottle and dishing out more wine – a more generous helping this time. It seemed a shame to leave a tiny bit in the bottom of the bottle.
When she was halfway through it, she started to wonder about the wisdom of too much Merlot with only half a square of fudge to line one’s stomach, especially as Will had listened so sympathetically to her tale of woe that she just kept talking.
‘It seems so quiet at the weekends when the kids are at Greg’s,’ she said, her shoulders slumping a little. ‘I know I moan that they drive me insane when they’re here, but it’s even worse when they’re gone.’ She sighed. ‘Oh, well. I suppose at least I’ve got them all to myself for Christmas this year.’
Will, who’d been not-so-surreptitiously reaching for another piece of fudge, looked at her. ‘I thought you said Greg and the new girlfriend were supposed to be coming here for a united family Christmas?’
She shook her head. And then nodded. ‘Well, I offered, but apparently Anoushka made plans that were just too good to pass up. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that came through her job, Greg said.’ She hated the tinge of bitterness that had crept into her tone. ‘They’re going to Bali, or somewhere like that. Escaping the Christmas madness.’
Will looked puzzled. ‘That doesn’t sound like the Greg I know.’
Juliet shrugged. It didn’t sound like the Greg she knew either. He hadn’t been like that when they’d been married. She’d have loved it if he’d wanted to drop everything just to be with her, or if he’d whisked her off on an exotic holiday. But work and commitments had always come first with Greg. And she’d understood that. Supported it, even. But he’d changed the moment he’d met flipping Anoushka, and for some reason that really cheesed her off.
She shook her head and took another large slug of wine. ‘She’s the love of his life, apparently. At least, that’s the only explanation he gave me when I called him on it.’
Without warning her eyes filled with moisture. She quickly looked down at the table and worked her eyelashes hard, trying to get it to evaporate. After a few seconds a warm hand covered hers. She took in a shuddering breath then peered at Will through the long fringe that had fallen over her face when she’d bowed her head.
His expression might have seemed neutral to a stranger, but Juliet glimpsed the understanding in his eyes. ‘I know it’s hard …’
She nodded. After a few seconds she slid her hand from underneath his and curled her fingers round the stem of her wine glass. She knew he knew.
‘It’s just that once you have a ring on your finger, you think you’ve earned the right to be the love of someone’s life. I mean, if they didn’t feel that way, why would they marry you in the first place?’ This was a question she’d asked herself a thousand times since Greg’s surprise exit, and a thousand times more since he’d met the fabulous Anoushka.
‘I wouldn’t mind …’ Now the confessions had started spilling out of her she couldn’t seem to stop. ‘But she’s not the trophy wife upgrade, is she? I think I could have coped with that better, because Greg was always fussy about appearances, and I know I’m hurtling into middle age …’
Will gave her a look that might have said Stop it! but she ignored him.
‘But she’s two months older than me. She’s shorter and at least a dress size bigger. She’s not Juliet mark two, the sleeker, faster model. She’s just … different.’
Not her.
Maybe that’s why Greg had never once told her she was the love of his life. Not that she’d realised his omission until far, far too late.
‘More fool him, then,’ Will said firmly, but Juliet couldn’t read his expression. It wasn’t a possessive kind of look, more a I’m sticking up for my friend kind of look. What had the hand thing been about, then? Did he like her? And did she want him to? Oh, she was so confused!
She didn’t want to be ‘back on the market’ again. It was too nerve-racking. The Juliet who used to date and go dancing and knew how to talk to men who weren’t her husband seemed like a creature from a parallel universe.
‘Did you feel this way when Samantha left?’ she asked.
‘If you mean, did I understand my significant other running off then hooking up with an older, fatter woman, then no.’
Juliet couldn’t help but laugh. This was what she liked about Will. He always made her feel better. His presence was … comforting.
He gave her a wry smile. ‘Did I second-guess myself for months afterwards? Yes. I know Sam and I weren’t together anywhere close to the amount of time you were with Greg, but it does get better. You just need to give yourself time, Juliet.’
Time. How unfortunate that time was a commodity in short supply in her life at the moment. Juggling kids and home had been hard enough when there’d been another adult around. Doing it on her own now there was a part-time job and a senile aunt thrown into the mix was nigh on impossible. Will was right, though. She needed time.
Oh, not just the days and weeks and months ticking past, although that
