Ruby

I couldn’t have gotten a better reaction if I’d tried. As I spoke, Sarah was sipping her gin and when she heard what I said she started to cough, then choke. Her face scarlet, she stood, brushing off my attempts to help her, and rushed to the restroom. I sat back and wondered whether I should have told her.

When she returned, her face was still hot and pink. “Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting that. My drink went down the wrong way.”

“Are you all right?” I passed her the glass of water the barman had brought over for her. “Here, drink some of this. I’m sorry I gave you a shock.”

“You really did,” she said. She drank the water, then started to look better. “I wonder why I haven’t heard anything at work. I haven’t heard even a hint of a rumor.”

“Thank God for that.” It would happen, though, I knew that. I looked at her, wondering whether I could trust her. “Don’t tell anyone any of this, will you?”

“Of course I won’t,” she said, and reached out to touch my hand. “We’re friends. But tell me everything. When did you meet up?” She lowered her voice. “Did you go to hotels?”

Suddenly I didn’t want to tell her the details. I didn’t want it to sound tawdry, as though we’d been constantly, furtively looking for the opportunity to have sex. And we hardly ever booked into a hotel for the afternoon. Just a few times. Once a month or so. I held my face really still, the way I used to at home, so that she didn’t see a telltale flush, a giveaway smile. “We never spent the night together,” I said. “Not until Paris. Tom’s home every night. I would never have gotten away with that.”

Sarah looked disappointed. I think she wanted stories of glamour and hotels and jewelry. It felt ridiculous to tell her that our affair had consisted mostly of snatched moments together that had meant more than any time in a hotel. Every week or so I’d travel to meetings with Harry and those hours spent in the car together had been like little holidays: something to look forward to and to treasure afterward. I’d keep quiet when Tom asked about work and always made sure to include Sarah or another woman if I told him I’d been anywhere. He’d usually switch off if I said too much, anyway; his eyes would glaze over and he’d turn on the television or open a book.

“And nobody found out? Tom didn’t suspect?”