I’d felt a familiar stab of jealousy, deep inside, and wished I wasn’t here in this bed with Tom. I wished I was anywhere else. I’d known Harry for only a few weeks at that point and already I longed to go in to work. On Saturdays and Sundays I found the time dragged, and when Tom suggested a long weekend away, I turned it down. I didn’t want to be alone with him. I needed the distractions of everyday life to cope with living with the wrong man.

•   •   •

Now it was as though I was operating on automatic pilot as I drove down Sarah’s street and took a left turn, knowing that this would eventually take me to Harry’s house. I was last here the day after he was meant to leave home, when I still thought he’d come to me.

I sat in my car a few doors down from his house, on the other side of the street. The curtains were closed and the house was dark. His car was parked at the front, next to Emma’s red Mini, and I knew he was home, back from his holiday from real life.

And then dead-on six thirty, just as he’d told me, the light went on in one of the bedrooms and then another light lit up a small window at the side of the house. For a second my heart leaped, thinking that he and Emma were in separate bedrooms, but I realized the smaller room was a bathroom. Then the hall light went on and I knew he’d gone downstairs to make coffee. I could picture him there, waiting for it to brew.

I sat and watched for several minutes, my heart beating fast. Then the light went off in the bathroom. When the curtains in the living room at the front of the house were drawn back, I ducked down in my seat, though I knew I couldn’t be seen. My eyes were fixed on their house.

As the minutes passed, the bedroom light was turned off and I saw a blond woman at the window, drawing the curtains back. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew who she was. I’d seen her on enough Instagram posts. She didn’t look up and down the street. Why should she? When his car lights flashed, dead-on seven o’clock, I turned the key in my car’s ignition. I needed to get away, fast.

I got as far as the corner and stopped the car. I couldn’t resist taking one last look.

There on the step was Harry, his back to the street, completely unaware of me. His wife, Emma, stood in the doorway. He was wearing a suit; she was still in a robe.