Dirty Bad Wrong(12)
I slouched back in the chair to enjoy the ambience of the hotel restaurant, pleasantly tipsy and full of Dover sole. We’d covered all the work talk, and the wine had flowed much more freely than I’d intended.
“Who?” I feigned ignorance and he raised his eyebrows. I dragged out the silence before I answered. “He was nice. Funny. Patient... Safe.”
“Safe?”
“What happened to refuse to dwell on the pain, not even for a single second?”
“My bad. Forget I asked.”
“Safe. Stu felt comfortable, you know? It was easy. We fitted together.”
“It sounds more like a pair of footwear than a relationship.”
“Relationships get like that, no?” I took my drink, my eyes on his as I drank it down.
“Maybe some.”
“I guess the others must break up before they get that far.”
He sat forward in his chair, and that simple movement changed everything. The thrum of cutlery and surrounding diners faded to grey, and there was only him, with his dark eyes so intently fixed on mine. I filed it away, the-James-Clarke-effect, that ability to command the floor that I’d witnessed all day. “Some relationships offer consistency, others offer challenge. I prefer the company of a woman who’ll push me to the very heights of human experience. The kind of woman who’ll embrace the same in return. A relationship like that may never feel safe, even if it lasted a lifetime.”
“Your wife was like that, was she?”
He took a sip of wine, looked beyond me, to the diners I couldn’t see. “She was challenging, yes.”
“So what happened?”
“Did you enjoy your main?” he smiled.
“Delicious, thank you, but your subject change sucks. Not even subtle.”
“I don’t talk about it.”
“About it, or about you?”
“I listen a lot better than I talk.”
I smiled. “That’s a terrible cop out.”
“Why so?”
“It’s lazy,” I laughed. “Hiding behind a smokescreen of interest to detract attention away from yourself.”
“It’s not a smokescreen.”
“What’s so bad about talking about you, Mr Clarke? Are you some big, bad serial killer or something? A secret special forces operator? A stamp collector?”
“I value privacy above almost all other things. I think you understand that more than you’re letting on.”
“Yeah, I get it. I’m normally the one doing the listening.”
“Then I guess we have a stalemate. Two listeners out to dinner, far away from any talkers.” His eyes smiled at me, big dark pools of cinnamon. “Were you in love with him?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“You first.”
“Not a chance.” I held his stare, unwilling to buckle. The pressure to give into him nipped at my heels, compelling me with an unknown force, strange and unfounded. Finally he smiled, and the tension broke. He shifted in his seat and I felt the bloom of victory in my ribcage, as though I’d won some battle I didn’t realise I was fighting.
“Rachel is the kind of woman who thrives on the adoration of others. I gave her plenty of my attention, and for a long time we worked like a dream. Then work got crazy and she lost the spotlight of my adoration every waking minute. I didn’t realise she was finding solace in other men until it was too late.”
“She had an affair?”
“Several,” he announced calmly. “So, were you in love with him?”
I took a breath, itching to pursue the adultery revelation. His expression told me I didn’t have a hope in hell. “I thought so.”
“Thought so?”
“I loved him. I don’t know if that’s the same thing on reflection.”
“Did he make you wet?”
I nearly spat my wine, staring across at the man opposite, at his crisp, corporate packaging, his steady hands, his considered smile. His goddamn perfect poker face and jaw of steel. “Sorry?”
“You heard me.”
I felt my cheeks burning. “I, um... we had a healthy relationship.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Stuart is attractive.”
“That’s not what I asked, either.”
“Well, yeah, sometimes. I mean... he could.”
“He could, but he didn’t?”
I sat agog, waiting for him to crack a smile and admit he was joking, but the smile didn’t come. “It was nice, but with work, and long days and general life. You know how it gets.”
“So, he didn’t. You’re a young woman, with your whole life ahead of you. When the betrayal fades you’re going to do just fine.”