Page 90 of The Summer Swap

She knew from talking to Theo that hearing was often the last thing to go when a person was unconscious. It was the reason relatives were encouraged to talk to their loved ones even when they were in a coma.

What would she want them to say to Theo?

“It’s our anniversary. I was waiting for him at a restaurant.” She was choked by panic and emotion. This must have been how Trisha had felt. “I’d ordered a bottle of champagne.”

“I’m sorry. This is bad timing.”

Bad timing? Her husband was in surgery and all this woman could say was that it was bad timing?

“I’m going to drive over now.” She tried to pull herself together. These were Theo’s colleagues. He’d want her to be composed. “I’ll be there as quickly as I can, but if you could just tell him that I love him.”

“I’ll do that. Nothing like a bit of romance to lighten a serious situation. You have a nice evening, Mrs. Buckingham. And hopefully Theo will be home in time to share that bottle of champagne with you. It must be frustrating for you. The downside of being married to a brilliant surgeon like your husband.”

How could he possibly be home in time to drink champagne?

Downside?

And then she realized that when the woman had said that Theo was in surgery, she hadn’t meant that he was the patient. She’d meant that he was the surgeon. Theo wasn’t the one being operated on, he was the one doing the operation, but her mind had been hurtling so fast down the dark track toward doom that she’d interpreted the conversation in the wrong way. The misunderstanding was her fault, but in her defense Theo hadn’t contacted her or asked anyone else to contact her. And yes, she understood the life-and-death nature of some emergencies, but this wasn’t just about him being late home, it wasn’t even about him leaving her stranded in an expensive restaurant on her own on their anniversary, it was about him not once thinking that she might be worried after what had happened to Michael.

Surely he wouldn’t have done that to her? There must be another explanation. “Theo wasn’t on call this evening.”

“I know. It should have been Alison Hollister, but her mother had a fall this afternoon, so Theo said he’d cover for her. You know what he’s like. He’s always there for everyone.”

Everyone except his wife.

She ended the phone call, skewered by a thousand volts of anger. All the energy she’d put into being anxious, now fueled her fury.

Theo wasn’t trapped in a tangled heap of metal. Theo was at work. He was operating. He’d covered for Alison so that she could go home and take care of her mother, and he’d left his wife sitting alone in a restaurant on their anniversary worrying that something had happened to him.

Her eyes stung with tears of anger and frustration.

She couldn’t believe they were back here again. After everything that had happened over the past few weeks, everything he’d said about appreciating his family, appreciating her, he’d prioritized work again without even having the courtesy to let her know.

Enough. Enough!

Vision blurred, she stomped up the stairs and dragged her largest suitcase from a cupboard. That hollow feeling inside her was back. The loneliness. The feeling that no one cared about her enough to make her their priority. Was it too much to ask?

Maybe it was, in which case she needed to make sure that she was at least the priority in her own life.

An hour later the suitcase was by the front door, along with a smaller bag stuffed with valuables and all her personal items.

It was dark, and past midnight, but she didn’t bother turning on the lights.

She sat down on the bottom stair and waited.

Another hour passed and then she heard the sound of a key in the lock and Theo stepped into the house.

He closed the door quietly, turned and tripped over her suitcase.

“What the—” He steadied himself and flicked on the light, blinking as he saw her sitting there. “Kristen? What are you doing?”

She stood up. Her knees were shaking. Her hands were shaking. Her whole world was shaking.

“I’m leaving you, Theo.” They were words she never thought she’d say. “But I’m doing you the courtesy of saying goodbye first, because that’s the adult thing to do after so many years of marriage.” And also because there were things she badly needed to say, and she knew if she didn’t say them they’d burn a hole inside her.

“What? Wait—” He dropped his keys onto the table and put his bag down. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do you see a smile anywhere on my face?”

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