The Husband's Secret(134)

            Tess gave her one final shove and sat back. She had never felt such an overwhelming desire to hit someone before. She had certainly never given in to it. It seemed that all the niceties that made her a socially acceptable grown-up had been stripped away. Last week she was a school mum and a professional. Now she was having sex in hallways and hitting her cousin. What next?

            She took a deep, shaky breath. “In the heat of the moment,” they called it. She had never realized just how hot the heat of the moment could get.

            “Anyway,” said Felicity. “Will wants to work things out, and I’m leaving the country. So do whatever you want to do.”

            “Thanks,” said Tess. “Thanks very much. Thanks for everything.” She could feel the anger almost physically draining from her body, leaving her limp and detached.

            There was silence for a moment.

            “He wants another baby,” said Felicity.

            “Don’t tell me what he wants.”

            “He really wants another baby.”

            “And I suppose you would have liked to have given him one,” said Tess nastily.

            Felicity’s eyes filled. “Yes. I’m sorry, but yes.”

            “For God’s sake, Felicity. Don’t make me feel bad for you. It’s not fair. Why did you have to fall in love with my husband? Why couldn’t you have fallen in love with someone else’s husband?”

            “We never really saw anyone else.” Felicity laughed as the tears rolled down her face. She wiped the back of her hand across her nose.

            That was true.

            “He doesn’t think he can ask you to go through another pregnancy because of how sick you got,” said Felicity. “But it might not be as bad with a second pregnancy, right? Every pregnancy is different, isn’t it? You should have another baby.”

            “Do you really think we’re going to have a baby now and live happily ever after?” said Tess. “A baby doesn’t fix a marriage. Not that I even knew my marriage needed fixing.”

            “I know, I just thought—”

            “It’s not really because of the sickness that I didn’t want a baby,” she said to Felicity. “It’s because of the people.”

            “The people?”

            “The other mothers, the teachers, the people. I didn’t realize that having a child was so social. You’re always talking to people.”

            “So what?” Felicity looked mystified.

            “I have this disorder. I did a quiz in a magazine. I have . . .” Tess lowered her voice. “I have social anxiety.”

            “You do not,” said Felicity dismissively.

            “I do so! I did the quiz—”

            “You’re seriously diagnosing yourself based on some quiz in a magazine?”

            “It was Reader’s Digest, not Cosmopolitan. And it’s true! I can’t stand meeting new people. I get sick. I have heart palpitations. I can’t stand parties.”

            “Lots of people don’t like parties. Get over yourself.”

            Tess was taken aback. She had expected hushed pity.

            “You’re shy,” said Felicity. “You’re not one of those loudmouthed extroverts. But people like you. People really like you. Haven’t you ever noticed that? I mean, God, Tess, how could you have had all those boyfriends if you were supposedly such a shy, nervy little thing? You had about thirty boyfriends before you were twenty-five.”