Page 66 of Fling

‘Hmm . . . yeah, I see what you mean,’ Colin said. ‘But how do I pull that off?’

‘You’re telling me you’ve been with Tara for eighteen years and you don’t know how to get under her skin?’ Rory asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘You’re right. I know exactly how to push her buttons,’ Colin said, pondering.

‘Good. So all you have to do is push them . . . all at once,’ Rory said with a mischievous smile.

Chapter 22

Colin spent his drive home making a mental note of Tara’s pet peeves. She had a long list of things that bothered her but he needed to focus on the ones that would really drive her up the wall. A part of him did feel a little guilty for what he was about to do, but he couldn’t miss his rendezvous with Claire. And texting Claire while in bed beside Tara simply wasn’t an option. He knew he had to commit to his mission of getting banished to the couch.

When he finally arrived home, however, he could smell that something was burning. He followed the scent and, when he opened the door to the living room, he was blindsided by what he saw. Tara was meditating in the lotus position, right in the middle of his man cave. She was surrounded by burning incense sticks, something she knew he absolutely despised. She had moved all the furniture around in such a way that the room was unrecognizable.

‘What the hell is this?’ Colin said.

‘Yoga,’ Tara said, not opening her eyes.

‘Yoga is just stretching with notions,’ he said, frustrated by the sight before him.

‘Shh . . . I’m meditating.’

‘I can see that . . . but why are you doing it in my man cave?’

‘Well, I was reflecting on some of the things Dr Burke said. Like how there needs to be no boundaries between us . . .’

‘I think you’re paraphrasing.’

‘. . . and it got me thinking,’ she continued, getting up from her yoga mat. ‘This is our living room and the term “man cave” is just so outdated. Sexist even! So I moved the furniture around to improve the room’s feng shui and renamed it the zen den.’ Tara put her hands together and bowed like a Buddhist monk. ‘I’m so glad we’re learning to compromise!’

Colin felt like banging his head against the wall. But if he started a fight now, he’d be the bad guy and Tara would play the victim in therapy. He needed Tara to start the fight, not him. He had to bite his tongue and stick to his plan.

‘No problem . . . babe,’ he said, overemphasizing the word she hated so much. Colin headed into the kitchen and looked around for an opportunity to vex her in any way possible. He noticed that the recycling bin was full and needed to be emptied but the regular waste bin was only half full.

Bingo.

Colin picked up the recycling bin and poured half the rubbish into general waste. The rattling of the waste made plenty of noise and he knew it would get Tara’s attention.

‘What are you doing?’ Tara said, storming in.

‘Oh, the recycling bin is full so I’m just making some space,’ he said, provoking her.

‘Are you serious?’ she snapped. ‘You can’t mix the two!’

‘Well, I’m just so glad the general waste and the recyclable waste are finally learning to compromise,’ Colin said smugly.

‘That’s not how it works, Colin. If we just dump everything, it’ll end up in the ocean and kill the turtles,’ she said frantically.

‘Yeah, but I was thinking . . . what have the turtles ever really done for me, you know?’ Colin said, taking pleasure in annoying her.

Tara’s blood was boiling but she wasn’t about to let Colin make her lose her temper.

‘Whatever you say, honeybun,’ she said with a smile that almost killed her.

Colin began walking towards the fridge for some food. When he opened the door, he was greeted by a fully stocked jungle of fruits and vegetables. There wasn’t a single space on the shelf that didn’t have something green on it.

‘Why does our fridge look like a farmer’s market stall?’ Colin asked, confused.

‘Because, honeybun . . . we’re going VEGAN!’ she said, clapping her hands together like a toy monkey holding cymbals.

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