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Back The Marriage Trap: A completely addictive psychological thriller
Chapters (60)
  1. Cover
  2. Books by Sheryl Browne
  3. Dedication
  4. KARLA
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Thirty-Three
  38. Thirty-Four
  39. Thirty-Five
  40. Thirty-Six
  41. Thirty-Seven
  42. Thirty-Eight
  43. Thirty-Nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-One
  46. Forty-Two
  47. Forty-Three
  48. Forty-Four
  49. Forty-Five
  50. Forty-Six
  51. Forty-Seven
  52. Forty-Eight
  53. Epilogue
  54. The Affair
  55. Hear more from Sheryl
  56. Books by Sheryl Browne
  57. A Letter from Sheryl
  58. The Babysitter
  59. The Second Wife
  60. Acknowledgements

‘I imagine this will add fuel to the press pyre,’ Diana replied calmly. ‘I haven’t informed Karla yet. Naturally, I want to do that sensitively. Goodbye, Robert.’

Cold foreboding clutching his stomach, Robert stared at her. Then, as the implication of what she was saying began to sink in, he felt something snap dangerously inside him. The rage that consumed him was so blinding, so all-encompassing, he had no awareness of crossing the room. He was appalled when he realised what he’d done. He hadn’t meant to. He’d never laid a hand on her before. He didn’t realise he had, until he saw the terror in her eyes.

‘Oh, God, Diana… I’m sorry. I didn’t…’ he stuttered, reaching for her – but Diana recoiled in an instant, that same shocked look on her face he’d seen on Sarah’s.

Robert watched hopelessly, powerless to stop her, as Diana grabbed up her things and fled. He’d only ever cried twice before in his adult life. Once at the funeral. Once afterwards, when he’d realised his wife would never again look at him with affection. By then, he’d accepted that things had fizzled out sexually between them – he’d had no choice – but he’d still needed her affection. He’d sought an outlet for his needs, of course he had, but he’d loved her still, in his own way. She must have known he did. Must have known that, as intolerable as things had sometimes seemed, he’d never envisaged a life without her. Why else would he have bothered working day after day, working himself into an early grave?

How could she do this to him? Feeling a tear spill from his chin as he stood amongst the ruins of his life, he reached to wipe it away. Attempting to compose himself after a while, he walked to the bathroom, where he extracted a bandage from the medicine cabinet and wrapped it round the hand he’d cut while retrieving large slivers of glass from the carpet. Going back to the bedroom, he paused, surveying himself in the shattered mirror. He didn’t recognise the broken person looking back: a worry-worn, defeated man with tell-tale ruddy cheeks and sagging jowls. A much older man than he perceived himself to be. That wasn’t him. Pulling himself taller, Robert squared his shoulders and braced himself to face those who would see him fall.