Page 32 of The Affair
They walked on, the air cooling as the sky faded to navy. Connie shivered and pulled her cardigan round her body.
‘Tell me about Poland,’ Devan said. ‘I want to hear all about Auschwitz and Kraków.’
It’s been an age since he’s shown any interest in my tours, she thought. But although he was finally making an effort she found she couldn’t enjoy it as much as she wished to.
When they got home, Connie wanted to delay going up to bed for as long as possible. She’d seen the eager light in Devan’s eye since supper, the way he gazed at her across the table, and took it to mean he might want to make love to her later. The thought made her panic. Jared’s erotic teasing had brought her to heights of pleasure she had never experienced with Devan.Will he know?She was hot with shame.
She also realized, as she slowly began to undress, that she felt bamboozled by her husband.He’s all sunshine and sorry, expecting me to respond as if nothing’s happened. I’m obviously supposed to just roll over, forget.Like painting over a crack in the wall. She knew he didn’t mean it like that. He was just being enthusiastic about finally feeling free from his despair. About loving her. But, Jared notwithstanding, it didn’t seem quite fair to expect too much from her, too soon.
Devan, already in bed, was watching as she self-consciously removed her bra, stepped out of her knickers.Two nights ago… She struggled to put it to the back of her mind as she lifted the duvet and slid in next to her waiting husband.
He was kissing her before she’d had time to catch her breath. His mouth was eager, his hands quickly finding her breasts, as if he were in a tearing hurry.
‘Whoa, wait,wait, Devan.’ She pulled away, staying his hand. ‘Let’s take it slowly, OK?’
His eyes didn’t seem focused as he stared down at her. ‘What’s wrong? What have I done?’
She wanted to close her eyes for fear he would see the scene in the hotel bedroom playing there. ‘Nothing’s wrong.’ She kissed him gently. ‘It’s just been a long time, that’s all.’
He tensed and she saw his mouth working. Then he sighed and flopped back on his pillow. ‘I know … and I’m sorry. I’ve just missed you so much, Con. I know I didn’t show it, but seeing you looking so hurt every time I pushed you away these past months tore me up. Only I couldn’t seem to stop. It’s like I was punishing you for how I felt.’ He turned to her. ‘I just want to show you how much I love you, now … for things to go back to how they were before.’
She lay there, wanting to respond as he deserved, but feeling Jared lurking between them. Things would never be the same – it was naïve to think they might be.
‘Come here,’ she heard Devan say, and was painfully aware of the echo of Jared’s words that night inWarsaw. It was all she could do to repress a shiver of arousal. She felt Devan’s arms pulling her against him. It was such a familiar gesture, but she couldn’t relish the closeness, or relax into his embrace as she knew she should, and normally would.
But Devan seemed to understand. He didn’t try anything more, although she could tell he was aroused as he spooned into her back when they turned on their sides. She wished he would move away. His breath on her neck was like the hot wind of shame.What am I going to do?She felt tearful, but dared not give in to tears, with Devan so close.If only he’d said all this before Poland, she thought ruefully. Although, in truth, she doubted it would have made much difference – hard though this was to admit.If Jared comes to my room next week, will I be strong enough to resist?The question kept her awake, despite her utter exhaustion, for most of the long night.
13
Connie was leaving again. Inverness and the Highlands. An easy tour, as long as it didn’t rain the entire time, or the midges pester them to death. Devan had been almost painfully attentive in the days since she’d returned from Poland. Nothing was too much trouble as far as she was concerned. Which Connie appreciated after so long a dearth, but also found oppressive. He was trying so hard. And her heart went out to him in his efforts to show his love for her. But she wished he would just relax, let them settle into a new rhythm, rather than jumping up and down like Tigger, trying to make things instantly perfect. But Devan had never been one for letting the grass grow under his feet – until his retirement, that was – and now he clearly wanted to move on, forget last year ever existed.
Connie did, too, but she knew she couldn’t throw herself wholeheartedly back into her relationship until she had finished with Jared, once and for all. She hoped he would pitch up in Inverness, then she could tell him – although she felt sick at the prospect. She was well aware that ending it wouldn’t erase him from her mind – she wasn’t stupid. Her betrayal would stay with her for ever. But at least she could begin to put their affair behind her, place it in one ofthe locked rooms Devan had mentioned and throw away the key.
She and Devan had finally made love for almost the first time in two years, although Connie had still found herself hesitating. But the night in question she’d known she had run out of excuses. So she’d drunk too much wine at supper, until her head was spinning, until thinking clearly – or at all – was impossible.
When they reached the bedroom, it had been she who took the initiative, almost rushing him – as previously he had her – in an attempt to prove that she could do this, that things were right between them. Devan was receptive. But the whole thing felt wrong to Connie. Both of them were over-zealous, as if they were showcasing their sexual skills rather than making love, neither fully confident in each other’s bodies after the years of disconnect. As if they were strangers.
Afterwards, they did not speak, there were only brief smiles, no cosy cuddles. They just turned over and went to sleep, Connie using drunkenness as her escape. But it seemed like a necessary hurdle and she was relieved it had been jumped – although the sex itself had left her feeling restless and empty. Left her feeling cruel.
Connie had spent the day ironing and filling her case. It was trickier to decide what to take for UK tours, with scant chance of warmth and sunshine. As with the previous trips that year, she was desperate to get away. But not for the same reasons. Before, she had needed an escape from the tensions of her marriage. Now she feltshe needed a break from Devan’s unintentionally guilt-inducing love. His gaze was constantly upon her, willing her to be loving and happy – to share his enthusiasm that they were getting back on track. She felt she was playacting through her every waking hour and it was exhausting.One more day, she kept telling herself, as they ate macaroni cheese in front of the television that night. She refused to think of what lay in store for her in Scotland.
Later, as she came through from the bathroom to the bedroom, Devan, sitting hunched on the bed with his back to her, jumped and quickly clicked off his phone. She wanted to ask whom he was calling, but his body-language seemed so guilty, the words dried in her throat.
‘Hey.’ Devan carefully laid his phone face down on the bedside table and turned as he got up and began to undress. ‘Looking forward to Scotland?’ he said, with forced heartiness, his smile self-conscious as he pulled his T-shirt over his head.
What’s going on?Connie gave him a quizzical smile. ‘Sort of … Will you miss me?’
‘Of course I will,’ he said, not meeting her eye as he climbed into bed. ‘So, tomorrow … I was thinking, instead of cooking on your last night, do you fancy a pub supper? We haven’t been out in ages.’ He was gazing at her oddly now, a small grin playing around his mouth. But she couldn’t work out what it all meant and was too tired to ask.
‘OK,’ she agreed. ‘That would be nice.’
Her husband’s eyes were still fixed on her as he watched her taking off her gold Russian-ring braceletand laying it beside her glass of water. ‘What?’ she asked, impatient suddenly.
‘Nothing …’
In the morning, after an unsettled night, Connie woke to find Devan’s side of the bed empty. It was just after seven and he usually slept much later. Rolling onto her side, she pulled the duvet around her ears and closed her eyes, not wanting to face the day.
But only a couple of minutes later, the bedroom door banged open and Riley bounced in, followed immediately by Devan, carrying a tray upon which were two croissants, a ramekin of strawberry jam, white paper napkins, white china mugs and a cafetière of coffee. An envelope was propped between the two mugs.
