I didn’t confront him about Ruby. I knew I would have to, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I felt embarrassed. Humiliated. And I couldn’t work out how I could tell him I knew without him finding out I’d slept with Tom. I was on tenterhooks all that time. I didn’t know whether Tom would confront Ruby. If he did, he’d have to tell her how he knew. And she would tell Harry and it would all come out. I wanted to keep the moral high ground as far as fidelity was concerned. Though my nerves were on edge I tried to act the same as usual, but Harry seemed preoccupied with work and I didn’t think he’d even noticed the difference in me.

The odd thing was that almost every night since I’d seen him with Ruby, we’d find ourselves in each other’s arms, making love as we did in the early days, passionate and uninhibited. It wasn’t as though we intended that to happen. It was only when we were in the dark that we’d turn to each other. We didn’t say a word, either at the time or later. There was no eye contact, no whispers or shared laughter. I didn’t know whether we were trying to make up to each other for what we’d done or whether we were seeking comfort and reassurance. In the mornings, though, I’d feel confused and hurt. I couldn’t meet his eyes, not even to see whether he could meet mine.

•   •   •

That morning I woke later than usual and felt as though I hadn’t slept a wink, though I had no memory of being awake in the night. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, then turned to see Harry was still in bed. He was always the one who woke first, the one who was up as soon as the alarm sounded. Usually he’d fix coffee before my eyes were even open. He’d put a mug on my bedside table and waken me with a quick kiss before jumping into the shower. Mornings were his best time and I’d seen it as a great quality, but now I wondered whether he was just eager to go in to work to see Ruby. He was lying on his side, staring at the beam of sunlight that was reflected on the wooden floor. He looked absolutely lost. My stomach tightened. I couldn’t live like this.

“You’re running late,” I said. “I’ll make coffee while you have a shower.”

“That’s okay.” He jumped out of bed. “I’ll get some at the office.”

When I heard the shower stop, I went down to the kitchen and poured a couple of glasses of orange juice and put bread into the toaster.

Harry came down and drank the juice quickly. “I’d better go. Lots on today.”