This was our chance to reconnect, spend time together, have some fun. Except that we didn’t, not really. The weather didn’t help. And we were both tired. But the treehouse was amazing, and we ate delicious food and swapped Valentine’s Day cards and gifts. I gave him a gorgeous silver Art Deco cocktail shaker, which I’d found at an antique fair and knew he’d love; he’d been ridiculously generous and spent a fortune on a first edition of one of my favourite novels.

Still, it was nothing I could put my finger on, but something seemed off. Probably a bit like those champagne bubbles.

David was taking a shower. I could hear the water going. He never opened a window, so it would be all steamed up in there. I felt a beat of irritation, then closed the drawer. I never wanted to be the kind of wife who looked at her husband’s private things. I knew of friends who looked through their partner’s phone as a matter of course. ‘Just a quick look, at night when it’s charging,’ one had reasoned. ‘I never expect to find anything, it’s merely a sort of habit. Kind of like an insurance.’ But I didn’t want that kind of insurance. If you didn’t trust someone, then what was the point?

I turned my attention to putting away a pile of T-shirts, a few pairs of jeans, several pairs of my knickers, a couple of shirts. Putting them on hangers, I closed the wardrobe door and went to leave the bedroom to go downstairs and order a pizza. All done. Except for that one sock straggler, lying on the bed. Bugging me. I pulled open the drawer again and began scrabbling around determinedly. That missing sock had to be in there somewhere . . .

Aha, found it! Triumphantly I quickly bundled the socks together, then hesitated. My hand hovered over the small red box. Out of nowhere, I had a distinct memory of Naomi once receiving earrings from someone she was dating and telling me that the best presents came in small packages. It had to be jewellery. Yet David had already given me a Valentine’s Day gift.

Somewhere inside me, a pulse started beating. As I picked the box up and pressed the small brass button to release the lid, I saw the distinctive gold logo of a famous luxury jewellers. David didn’t skimp. Inside was a gold bracelet. Heart pounding, I turned it over in my fingers. He’d had it engraved. The words swam in front of my eyes and the walls seemed to warp in. I’d always thought nothing could be worse than finding out that the person you love doesn’t love you any more. I was wrong. It’s finding out they’re in love with someone else that kills you.

So then I did what every woman does when the bottom drops out of her world. I looked at his phone and found the texts.

Brave Face

Thanks for such a fab party.