Dedicated to Abbi,
my dearest friend

‘Heav’n has no Rage,
like Love to Hatred turn’d,
Nor Hell a Fury,
like a Woman scorn’d.’

– The Mourning Bride,
William Congreve

The Wife

ONE

Friday 24 November, 06:54

‘You were grinding your teeth in your sleep again.’

Amber pushed the eye mask to her forehead and squinted to see the time on the alarm clock. Morning rays shone around the curtains, and the sound of a power drill growled behind the glass, drowning out the birdsong she had woken to before Mr Penfold began the renovation on his property across the street. As she returned the mask over her eyes, she vowed to make a visit to number forty-two.

‘You know I don’t wake up until seven,’ she said.

‘I have to leave early. I wanted to say goodbye.’

Amber removed the mask and sat against the headboard with a forced smile. Her jaw ached from a night of grinding her teeth.

Richard was one of those men who grew even more attractive as the years passed. His olive skin only seemed to age in the right places: the creases in the corners of his eyes, the rugged lines on his forehead. His dark hair and stubble were dashed with flecks of grey, which made his blue eyes all the brighter, and his body was almost as firm as it had been in his thirties. To anyone looking in, Richard was perfect.

‘Goodbye, darling. Your lunch is in the fridge.’

‘Thanks.’ He took a quick glance around the room. ‘Are you sure you haven’t seen my phone anywhere?’

‘Did you check your suit pockets like I said?’

‘Twice.’

‘I’ll keep looking.’

‘Thanks.’

Richard leaned over the bed in his checked suit and pecked her on the lips. He smelled of the cologne she bought him for his birthday every year. It was her favourite.

Just as he began to pull away, she held on to his tie and led him back to her until their noses touched.

‘Tell me you love me.’

His breath smelled of coffee and cream. Only Richard could drink cream with his coffee and not gain weight.

‘I love you,’ he replied.

She looked into his eyes to search for the truth. He straightened the moment she released her grip.

‘Will you give Samantha a kiss for me?’ he asked as he approached the door.

‘Of course. Have a good day.’

As Richard left the room, the alarm clock began to bleep. She slammed her palm against the snooze button and her smile fell.

He had told her everything she needed to know just by looking her in the eye.

Richard was lying.

* * *

The house was almost perfect. Almost.