She took a tiny step backward. “Nothing. I … just … really want to watch Dexter.”
He was quiet, as if weighing something up. And, for the first time ever, she admitted to herself that she was scared of him. Scared of her husband. His breath was high in his chest. All these tales she’d told herself about her being in control of the situation were just that. Tales. She was, she realized, entirely at his whim.
Finally he nodded. “All right then.”
“All right … what?”
“All right. We’ll watch Dexter.”
Sonja watched him. His expression was hard to read. “Really?”
“Of course. If you’re too tired.”
George straightened up and reached for the remote control, while Sonja looked on. It felt like a trick. It was simply too hard to fathom that he’d just accept it and move on.
“Well,” he said, looking up at her. There was the faintest trace of impatience in his voice. “Are you joining me?”
“Yes,” Sonja said. “Yes, okay.”
But as she slid onto the couch beside him, Sonja was tense. She had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the end of it. Yes, she’d won this time. But sometimes the enemy you knew was better than the one you didn’t.
43
When Kate arrived home after dropping Zoe at her apartment, David was waiting for her on the doorstep. His top button was undone and his tie was loose. When he saw her coming, he rose to his feet.
“What are you doing on the doorstep?” she asked.
“Need to make sure the gardeners are doing their job.”
He smiled. She took the smile for what it was: a peace offering.
“I’m so sorry about lunch,” she said. “I should have—”
“It was just lunch, Kate. I know you have a lot going on. Come inside.”
He put his arm around her and led her into the front living room. For once the place was devoid of teenagers. Hilary’s brother was getting married in Mexico and they’d all headed off early that morning. Kate and David had even been invited—David, of course, still played golf with his former brother-in-law. They’d toyed with the idea of going but had decided against it after the miscarriage.
“Why don’t we open a bottle of wine?” Kate suggested. One of the few upsides of not being pregnant was a drink after work. Today she needed one.
“What a good idea. I’ll go to the cellar.”
Kate kicked off her shoes and fell onto the couch. Beside her on the side table was a candle and she lit it, then nestled into the cushions. David returned a moment later with two chilled glasses.
“Well,” he said. “This is romantic.”
She smiled up at him. He put the glasses on the coffee table.
“It’s so quiet,” he said. “I can hear myself think.”
“It’s lovely,” Kate agreed. “The whole place to ourselves.”
She let that comment hang for a moment, until he gave her a familiar look. And she turned to him.
It was nice, the sex. After the last two years, it even felt a little gratuitous. For so long (though David didn’t always know it) she’d been aware of exactly where she was in her cycle—and was always more keen during the “hot spots.” After they’d started IVF, sex had been something controlled—not for a few days before or after an embryo transfer. It had been forever since they’d had the inclination and just gone for it. And the beauty of infertility, of course, was that there was no need to scramble for a condom.
The best thing about it was that, for a few minutes, Kate felt like they were them again. Without fertility issues or embryo discussions or ex-wives or kids. Afterward, in the postcoital glow, Kate felt a small burst of courage.
“David, can we … talk?” she said.
In her arms, she felt him stiffen. “Kate—”
“What? You said the other night that we should talk about it. Can we?”
Slowly David disentangled himself from her and sat up. “It depends what you mean by talk,” he said warily.
“I realize I can’t force you to try again for a baby,” she said, also sitting up. “But you can’t force me to stop wanting to. And until we resolve it, we have a problem.”
“You mean until we have a baby, we have a problem?”
Something about the way he said it irritated her.
“If you want to put it that way, yes,” she said.
David wiped his face with his hand. His face was a hard frown, his eyes sharp. It surprised her. “So that’s how you’re going to play it?” he said.
“I’m not playing anything, David.”
“Is this what this was all about?” He looked around the room. “The wine? The candles? The sex?”
“No,” she said, taken aback. “I can’t believe you said that.”
David stood. “Jesus. Are we really talking about this again? I’ve actually forgotten who we are when we’re not talking about a baby, Kate.”
“David—”
“I just … I can’t do this anymore.”
Kate’s breath caught. “What do you mean?”
“I might … see if I can get a ticket to Mexico after all. Go see the kids. I think some time away would be good.”
His voice was softer now, which somehow made it worse. It sounded as though he was making a thought-out decision rather than lashing out, saying something he’d regret later.
Kate couldn’t believe it. Four years of marriage, countless fertility treatments, and this is what they had come to. She knew she could end this now, once and for all. Just tell him, Okay, let’s forget about having a baby. If she did that, she’d have her husband back. She’d have the life she loved back. But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
“Have a good time in Mexico,” she said instead, and she stepped around him and headed up the stairs.
44
Zoe sat on the couch, looking at her phone. Emily had called twice, probably to laugh at her. Zoe didn’t want to speak to her. Speaking to her would mean news from the outside world, and news from the outside world, she was certain, wouldn’t be good. Eventually she put her phone on silent and shoved it in a drawer. She’d been back in her apartment for half an hour when her mom got home.
“Hi,” Zoe said. “How was chemo?”
She was surprised to see that her mom looked pretty normal. Much the same as she’d looked that morning, perhaps a little tireder. She dropped onto the couch beside her. “It was okay.”
“Did it hurt?”
“No. It was like donating blood.”
It was weird, but she seemed remarkably upbeat. Not the fake upbeat she did when she was trying to make Zoe feel happy but … actually happy.
“Was it boring?”
“Actually Paul came with me.”
Zoe stared at her. “Paul, Paul? As in, my uncle Paul?”
She nodded. “He showed up here this morning and offered to drive me. Weird, huh?”
“Really weird.” She looked at her mom. “Are you hungry? I can fix you something…”
“I’m fine, honey.”