He hadn’t wanted it to come out like a punchline in an argument. But it was wrong, being lied to. And he had been lying to everyone. He had to put all that right.

Her posture hadn’t changed, but her expression had. Somewhere behind her eyes she knew the conversation had changed from something that could be fixed to something that might be broken.

‘So that’s what all this is about,’ she said.

He shook his head. ‘No, not all of it. Everything I said about work, that was true. I’m sorry I lied.’

‘When?’

He looked at her, momentarily confused. His glasses were dirty. There were smudges in his field of view.

‘When did you have the affair?’ she said, as if clarifying her question to a child.

‘Thirty-six years ago.’

‘We weren’t married thirty-six years ago.’

‘No, it was before we got engaged.’

‘I don’t understand,’ she said.

‘When I asked you to marry me,’ he said, ‘I was in love with someone else. I was running from someone else. She was … I … No, sorry, it’s not about her, but I was …’

‘And this continued for how long?’

‘Oh no, it stopped. I mean, I didn’t see her after we were married.’

‘So you were sleeping with someone else, while we were engaged?’

‘No, it was never like that.’

‘What?’

‘There was no sex.’

She closed her eyes, and the way she was breathing made her sound like she was trying to be patient. It reminded him of when the twins were babies and they had screamed, screamed night after night, and when she went to help them, picked them out of their cots and rocked them one by one, they would go quiet, but when he did it – which was half of the time, they took turns – they wouldn’t stop. He tried everything. He begged them. He rocked them and sang to them, offered toys and milk bottles but it hadn’t helped. And eventually, as any hope for sleep was abandoned, Julianne would come in to the babies’ room and take the children from him, and she would breathe slowly and deliberately until they stopped crying.

It was the same kind of breathing she was doing now.

‘Why are you telling me?’ she said.

‘Because it’s the truth.’

‘Why now?’

‘Because I can’t stand lying any longer.’

‘But there’s no point,’ she said angrily. There wasn’t the pain in her eyes that he’d feared there would be – instead, she seemed furious. ‘What is the point in telling me this now? Do you want me to forgive you, is that it?’

‘No.’

‘Do you want to hurt me?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Then there was no point.’

‘But I still love her,’ he said.

‘Then walk out the door and be with her.’

‘She’s dead.’

‘Then you’re a fool.’

‘And I still love you, Julianne.’