Page 158 of The Honeymoon Affair

‘So why did you break it off?’ I ask. ‘If you knew it was perfectly innocent, why didn’t you stay with him?’

‘You still came and he still celebrated,’ she says. ‘It wasn’t what I asked of him.’

‘I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I told him I had news, and—’

‘It doesn’t matter. He promised not to see you but he did.’

‘And yet he loves you,’ I say.

‘He loves the idea of me,’ she says. ‘In the same way my ex-fiancé loved the idea of me. In Steve’s case, it wasn’t till we split up and I started doing my own thing that he wanted me in his life again. He couldn’t believe I was managing fine without him. As for Charles – I was someone, something different for him. I wasn’t part of the whole book tribe thing. It was fun for him at first, but even if I hadn’t come back that evening and found you with him, something would have triggered our split. We were too different.’

‘I don’t know about your first fiancé, but I think you’re being a little hard on Charles.’

She shrugs.

‘He said he tried everything to convince you he loved you,’ I say. ‘He went after you that night, but you’d already got a cab.’

‘I wasn’t going to hang around waiting for him to run along the street and lie to me again. I haven’t seen him or spoken to him since I handed back the engagement ring.’

If you can call flinging it across the room handing it back. I glance down at the multicoloured ring on my own finger. Izzy glances at it too.

‘Our divorce came through,’ I say.

‘Oh.’ She looks surprised. ‘I thought perhaps . . . well, it doesn’t matter to me any more, of course.’

But it matters to me. It matters a lot.

I didn’t expect to feel different after the divorce, but I do. I feel as though I’ve been released. And as far as our professional relationship goes – well, when I met Charles earlier, I was seeing him as a client and not as a man who’s been part of my emotional life for over fifteen years. It was unexpectedly wonderful.

Perhaps I’ve grown up. It’s a bit of a blow to think it’s taken me so long.

The queue of people waiting for him to sign their books is thinning out.

‘Sure you’re not going to say anything to him?’ I ask.

She shakes her head.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I behaved badly towards you. I didn’t mean to, but I did.’

‘How did you behave badly?’ Her dark eyes seem even darker.

‘By not respecting your boundaries.’ I give her a half-smile. ‘By being self-centred. By not understanding Charles despite the fact that I should have had plenty of experience in understanding him. Since moving to the States, I’ve had a crash course on boundaries. I’ve realised that perhaps I’m not very good at reading signals.’

‘I’d’ve thought it’s pretty easy to read “my ex is getting married to someone else so I should keep out of their way”,’ she says, and for the first time she sounds animated.

‘I didn’t think,’ I tell her. ‘Or at least . . .’ I sigh. ‘I thought I had more of a right to him than you. Not necessarily to be in his life and in his bed, but I thought you were . . .’

‘Too young and too stupid.’

‘Not stupid!’ I exclaim. ‘Never that. It’s that you weren’t part of the book tribe. I was dismissive of that. I shouldn’t have been. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s fine,’ she says, even though from her tone I know that it isn’t. Not really.

‘Ellis told me that you and I were more alike than I thought,’ I say.

‘She told me that too,’ says Iseult. ‘So did Pamela. I didn’t know whether to feel insulted or complimented.’

And then she starts to smile.