Page 49 of Fling

Is everything OK? It’s 8.30, are you on your way?

I’m getting worried, are you not coming?

So, it’s almost 9, am I wasting my time waiting?

After the longest hour of his life finally passed, Colin took the hint and walked away.

He should have known it was all too good to be true. Claire was nothing more than a mirage brought on by a terrible thirst. He knew a pint of Guinness was the only thing that would quench any kind of thirst now. He had always believed that one shouldn’t drink to feel better, only to feel even better. Tonight, however, all Colin wanted to do was drown his sorrows.

‘Pint of plain,’ he said, taking a seat at the bar of the nearest pub. ‘And keep ’em coming.’

After reflecting over the events of the week, Colin concluded that Claire was probably a catfish like Rory had said. For all he knew, Claire was some creepy old hermit woman using stolen lingerie photos to manipulate him. He felt like a fool. Murphy’s Law had prevailed again. He should have seen it coming.

After a few pints too many, Colin hopped in the back of a taxi and headed back to Hillcrest. When he arrived home, he could see most of the lights in his house were still on. He opened the front door and braced himself for a lecture from Tara about the amount of alcohol he had consumed. As he walked into the kitchen, he saw Tara sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of wine, already in her pyjamas.

‘Well, how’s the head?’ she asked in a surprisingly friendly tone.

‘I’m not as think as you drunk I am,’ Colin said, one of his favourite dad jokes.

‘Good night with Rory?’ she asked.

‘Well . . . honestly I’m kinda glad to be home. Did you have fun with Emily?’

‘I’m kinda glad to be home too,’ she replied, smiling.

‘Did you wait up for me?’

‘Yes, actually . . . I wasn’t able to open this jar of pickles. Would you mind?’ she said, sliding a mason jar towards him. Colin was no fool. He knew she hadn’t waited up this late just for a pickle. This was her roundabout way of telling him she needed him.

‘Sure,’ Colin said, picking up the jar. He twisted the lid off with ease. ‘But I still don’t know how you can eat those things.’

‘Well, every marriage has one person who loves pickles and one person who hates them,’ Tara joked as she ate one. ‘I take it you were on the Guinness all night?’

‘Yeah . . . reminded me of the first time we met.’

‘Well, nobody pulls a pint better than me.’

‘I miss that time,’ Colin smiled.

‘Me too,’ Tara said, smiling back at him.

A silence came over the room but it wasn’t an awkward one. It was the kind of warm silence they used to share.

‘Colin, I don’t know how we got here but whatever it is that’s broken between us, I want to fix it. I know it hurts that we can’t have children but we can’t lose each other because of it. We have to fight for what we have,’ Tara said.

‘You’re right,’ Colin said. He realized he wasn’t just saying she was right to appease her. He meant it.

‘I found us a marriage counsellor. I booked an appointment online for Monday evening,’ Tara said.

Colin was hesitant at first but he knew these were Tara’s terms. After just risking his marriage to meet a complete stranger online, he knew he was lucky he still had a marriage to save.

‘OK, Tara,’ he said. ‘Whatever it takes.’

‘Thanks, Colin. I’ll see you in the morning,’ Tara said, before heading upstairs to bed.

Colin knew his marriage was far from fixed. He was still sleeping on the couch, after all. But there was hope. And that made anything possible. He was willing to do whatever was necessary to make things work.

And so Colin finally unloaded the dishwasher.

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