you have a meeting this morning?’
‘Cancelled. Rescheduled for Monday, so, as I was up and about and on the road I thought I’d stop by and bring breakfast.’
I take the box of pastries from him and stand aside to let him in, nudging the door shut behind me before heading back into the kitchen.
‘Michael not up yet?’
‘It’s eight-thirty on a Saturday morning, Liam, so no. He’s still in bed. Do you want some tea?’
He nods and leans back against the island in the centre of the room, glancing behind him into the orangery, where my pot of tea and crumb-scattered plate are sitting on the table next to the couch.
‘You didn’t much fancy a lie-in yourself, then?’
He looks at me, but I don’t answer that. I know what he is getting at. ‘Are you thinking of hanging around here until you and Michael leave for your squash game?’
‘If that’s okay?’
I smile slightly and flick the switch on the kettle. ‘It’s okay. You can make the tea. I’ll go see if Michael’s awake.’
I head back upstairs, back into our room, and Michael’s very much awake. He’s sitting up in bed with his laptop open, his reading glasses perched low on the end of his nose as he types away. And he doesn’t hear me come in at first, he’s that engrossed in whatever it is he’s doing. It’s not until I’m almost right there beside him that he looks up and smiles. But I also don’t miss the speed at which he slams shut his laptop.
‘Where’d you get to? I woke up and you weren’t there.’
‘You were in a hurry to come and find me, then?’ I jerk my head in the direction of his laptop as I fling open the wardrobe and search for something to wear.
‘Just thought I’d get a jump on Monday’s meeting. Get some notes down.’
I loosen my robe and let it fall to the floor, and I flinch slightly as I feel Michael come up behind me, feel him slide his arms around my waist, his mouth brush my shoulder so lightly his lips barely connect with my skin.
‘Come back to bed,’ he murmurs.
‘I can’t.’ I shrug him off and turn around, reaching for the dress I’d dropped to the floor when he’d touched me. ‘Liam’s downstairs. His meeting’s been moved to next week, so he decided to swing by here early. He’s brought breakfast.’
Michael sighs and drags a hand through his hair, and then he reaches out and wraps his fingers around my wrist, causing me to drop the dress again. I raise my gaze and look at him, and the expression on his face – it’s one I’ve become all-too familiar with these past few months.
‘Last night, Ellie – last night, at the party, you were fine. We were fine, we were good. We had a nice time, right?’
‘Yes. We had a nice time. It was good to get out. And I’m still fine now, Michael, okay? I’m just tired. These last few weeks have been crazy, what with the new salon and the spa, so, you know? I’m just tired.’
‘Look, I know we haven’t …’
He leaves that sentence hanging, loosens his grip on my wrist and drops his gaze, dragging a hand back through his hair again. And then his eyes meet mine and he smiles at me, just a small smile, but I needed that to happen.
He pulls me into his arms, kisses the top of my head, and for a few seconds he just holds me tight and I cling onto him, breathing him in.
I look up at him, and his mouth catches mine, just a quick kiss. But I take it.
‘We’re going to be all right, Ellie.’
He lets go of me and steps back, and I watch as he pulls on his jeans, looks in the mirror, running both hands through his hair to tidy it up.
I turn around and crouch down to pick up my dress, stepping into it, but as I reach behind me for the zipper I struggle to pull it up, and he’s there; he takes my hand and he pulls it away, slowly sliding the zipper up, and as he does that he gently kisses the back of my neck, and I shiver. The first time he ever did that, kiss the back of my neck, I shivered.
‘I’m sorry, Ellie.’
I know he is. I’m sorry too.
I turn around and pull him to me by his shirt collar, quickly kissing his slightly open mouth.
‘Go see Liam. Go on. Go plan your squash strategy or whatever it is you do before one of your games. I’m going to finish getting ready. I need to stop by the spa later, make sure everything’s going to plan.’ I smile and I cup his cheek and kiss him again, stroking his skin with my fingertips. ‘Go. I’ll be down in a few minutes.’
I let go of him and I watch as he leaves the room, waiting until I hear both his and Liam’s voices echo up from the kitchen downstairs before I head into the en suite.
I’ve got a busy day ahead. And maybe that’s just as well.
Long hours are something Michael and I are used to. Sometimes we can be nothing more than passing ships in the night. Days can blend into weeks before we realise we haven’t spent any real time together. We both love our work. We both need our work, now more than ever. But over the past few months the hours we work are increasing, the days are becoming longer. Our life, it’s changed. It had to. We changed. What happened, it was always going to change us. It would have changed anybody, but for us – Ellie and Michael Travers, the perfect couple, because that’s how people saw us, how people still want to see us – for us, those changes are something I’m still trying to cope with.
I switch on the kettle and start laying out the breakfast things just as Michael comes into the kitchen, his head down as he sorts through the post.
‘Anything for me?’ I ask, leaning back against the counter, wrapping my arms tighter around myself.
He looks up, his eyes meeting mine for the briefest of seconds before his gaze drops back down to the letters in his hand. He shakes his head, keeping his eyes down, and I drop my own gaze, catching a glimpse of my bare feet, the shocking-pink nail polish I’m wearing – courtesy of some last-minute product testing yesterday at the spa – a sharp contrast against the dark tiled floor. And as I raise my head and check the time I realise I’m running late. I need to be at the spa in an hour and I’m not dressed yet.
I pour myself a mug of tea and make to leave, but I stop as I reach the door. I turn back around to face Michael but his head is still down. He’s checking over some papers he’s just taken from his briefcase. This is what it’s like now. Sometimes. The silences, the heavy atmosphere. Painful memories engulf us, both of us, constantly, but we’re finding different ways of dealing with them. I still need to talk about what happened, but Michael thinks we’ve talked enough. He’s wrong.
‘Will you be home for dinner tonight?’
He
