Page 57 of The Love Hack

And I want to be there with her, but I can’t.

Just forming the words in my head made me feel like I might be about to cry. There was a box of tissues on the meeting-room table, I suppose for when appraisals were going badly. Ross got up and fetched it, his free hand hovering over my shoulder for a second before he moved it away, put down the tissues within my reach and sat down again.

‘New York’s an amazing city,’ he said gently. ‘I used to spend the summer there quite often. There’s so much to do. Why doesn’t she do the tourist thing, explore a bit, the Met, Central Park, shopping – all that stuff? She’d feel at home really soon.’

‘That’s what I said to her. But she said she feels nervous leaving the apartment, which is really weird. It’s not like her. I’m worried.’

‘So you had to speak to her yesterday and try and find out what was going on?’

‘That’s right. And afterwards – well, I was on Facetime with her for about an hour. And after that I didn’t really feel like a party. So I just went home, and let Greg know why. It wasn’t anything to do with you, I promise.’

Ross smiled, a slightly sheepish, dialled-down version the smile I’d seen the day before – but it was a smile, at least. ‘I’m sorry about your sister. But I’m glad I didn’t offend you.’

‘Thanks. I don’t know what to do, really. I offered to go out there and visit her, and I suggested if she hates it she could come back home for a bit, but she said no. She said she’s just going to have to get used to it. And besides – you know, work.’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Work.’

We both looked towards the door, and then we both stood up, left the room and headed back to our desks. My concern about Amelie was still at the forefront of my mind, but I felt better for having shared it with someone. Ross knew something about me, now, and I got the feeling he understood, and I’d be able to talk to him again about it if I wanted to. And I knew a bit more about him, too – just tiny nuggets of information – his childhood in America, the family dog that had guarded the car keys each night. But it felt like something – like we’d been drawn ever so slightly closer to each other.

When I returned to Karl’s email, I felt quite different about it. Sure, he was being a dick and I needed to tell him that. But the tone of my response changed.

Dear Karl

Moving in with a partner is always challenging. When we’re dating, we show off our best selves, and now your girlfriend is showing you another side of herself. It’s good that she trusts you enough to let you see that, don’t you think? And don’t you find that when you two go out together, you get to see the glamorous, groomed side of her that first attracted you? Remember, Karl, women are people too. She’s not a blow-up doll. She doesn’t have to be perfect – or maybe she is, perfect just as she is, eyebrow tweezers and period pains and all. If you love her, you’ll embrace all those aspects of her.

And if you don’t – well, you’d be being a bit of a dick, wouldn’t you, Karl?

Yours, Adam

Full of a smug glow born out of having poured the milk of human kindness all over the possibly undeserving Karl, I saved the document and literally dusted off my hands against each other. A job well done, I thought. I should be filled with gratitude for Ross’s timely intervention proving that men could be – and often were – decent.

Then I thought, hold on. He felt bad about touching my legs yesterday. Presumably he felt bad about hugging me as well. What does that actually mean?

My mind whirled into overdrive. He regretted it, therefore he didn’t enjoy it. I’d checked the previous evening and my fears had been well founded – I hadn’t shaved my legs. That would have grossed out finnicky Karl for sure, and it had probably grossed Ross out, too. And besides, it wasn’t as if he was single and free to go around touching all the legs he wanted. He was still going out with someone, with Bryony. I needed to keep my guard well and truly up and save my interest in men for whichever dick-adjacent loser was next rash enough to confide his poxy man-problems in Adam.

But nothing could have prepared me for the email that landed in Adam’s mailbox the following day.

TWENTY-ONE

Dear Adam

I’m a pretty together guy, if I say so myself – good job, great flat, nice car (it’s a Porsche Macan – far superior to the Cayenne in my humble opinion) and a wife who worships me. I never though I’d find myself writing to an agony uncle – but here we are.

Where to begin? I guess with my wife, who I just mentioned. She’s a great girl and like I say she worships me. I really don’t want to go anything to hurt her. But marriage isn’t turning out quite like I expected. We’re living in a city she doesn’t know well and she’s struggling to settle in. I’ve recently been promoted at work and I’m leading a team out here, so I need to prove myself, and that means putting in the hours, both in and out of the office. I’m putting the effort in to show my value to my managers and my direct reports, as well as the wider firm, and I’m doing pretty well at it if I say so myself.

When I got together with my now wife, I thought she was pretty sorted. She’s gorgeous and smart and sassy, and I thought she’d be a real asset to me in my life and career. But since we got married, she’s changed. She’s become really clingy and needy, and nothing I do seems to make her happy. I don’t know what her problem is – she’s got a great life here and doesn’t have to work beyond doing the basics to keep things ticking over at home and occasionally turning up on a night out and being a credit to me with my colleagues. But she doesn’t seem that interested in doing either of those things.

Normally, I’d let a lot of this slide – even the fact that our sex life hasn’t exactly been up to standard since we got back from honeymoon. But the problem is, at work I’ve run into an old girlfriend of mine. We split up when she got transferred to a different location, and I met my wife shortly after. But now my ex is back in my life, and if I’m honest I feel like I’ve made a mistake.

My ex is everything I thought my wife was – sassy, driven, sociable and of course hot. I never thought of myself as a cheater, but what if I just ended up with the wrong girl, and now I’ve got the opportunity to put that right? That wouldn’t really count as cheating, would it?

Help me out here, Adam. I want to do the right thing for myself.

Anonymous, Citizen of Nowhere

I read the email, then read it again. I could literally feel cold sweat breaking out on my palms, and my teeth were chattering even though the office was just as warm as usual. I stood up, my legs unsteady, and walked to the loo, locking myself in a cubicle, sitting on the closed toilet lid and shaking.

It’s Zack, one part of my mind screamed. It’s totally, one hundred per cent Zack.

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