Chapter Twenty-Five

After Ben left, I sat at the kitchen table, staring into space until Elodie started to whinge and my coffee had gone cold. My thoughts were in turmoil, wondering what was happening with Peter. My heart pounded violently every time I remembered Ben’s conversation with his mum. It sounded serious.

Eventually, I felt that I couldn’t stay in the flat a moment longer. I changed and fed Elodie, then put her into her pram and strode out into the sunshine, not sure where I was going or what I was doing. I kept walking and before I knew it, I was standing outside Peter’s old apartment block, where we had spent so many happy times together. It was where we had conceived Elodie.

I sat on a bench and stared up at the rather clinical façade of the building, trying to remember which window was his. I had genuinely imagined moving in here with him, us making a life together. God, I was so stupid. It felt as if there was a slab of concrete weighing heavily on my chest and I knew it was guilt. I tried to swallow it down, reassuring myself that he had behaved much worse than me. He had used me and then cast me aside when I had outlived my appeal. He had thought I was as disposable as a piece of trash that he could bin and then forget about.

I knew without a doubt that his heart attack had been caused by the stress of his situation and I did feel bad about it. But I only did what I did because I was so hurt. He was the first man I had ever loved and, like an idiot, I thought he felt the same way, but the truth was I was just one in a long line of silly, available women who fell for his charms. The only difference was that I refused to let him get away with it, as the others had clearly done, for years.

I refused to allow a scintilla of acknowledgement that he might die seep into my thoughts. He was too fit and healthy. He would pull through, of course he would. But what would happen then? Would a brush with death force him to come clean about what he’d done? Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to me, that he might feel the urge to confess everything with his family gathered around his bedside. Where the hell would that leave me then? Where would it leave Elodie?

And then, right at the very back of my mind, lurked a tiny hope that maybe it would cause Peter to realize that life is too short and that he should be with me and Elodie after all. He obviously wasn’t happy or satisfied with Jo or he wouldn’t have had so many flings behind her back. This scare might make him reassess and grab the opportunity.

Inexplicably, I felt furious with Ben. He was the biggest obstacle to that ever happening, as Peter wouldn’t be able to bear to hurt him. I was beginning to hate him. He was such a drip compared to Peter and everything he did annoyed me.