Page 39 of The Honeymoon Affair

‘I really am sorry, you know,’ he says as I follow him downstairs. ‘Both for . . . well, maybe I didn’t go about breaking up the best way, and I regret that. But also for turning up without checking. It was stupid.’

It wasn’t stupid. It was entitled. But then he always acted entitled when he was with me. It’s another thing I decide not to say.

‘Would you mind if I had that cuppa?’ he asks now. ‘I’ve been out all day and I’m gasping for a brew.’

I glance at the clock on the wall.

‘While I dry my hair,’ I say. ‘I’m going out.’

‘Out?’ He switches on the kettle. ‘Where to?’

‘Town.’

‘With Celeste?’

‘What on earth business is it of yours?’ I demand. ‘I’m going out, that’s it. And I have to finish drying my hair or I’ll be late.’

‘Don’t let me stop you.’ He takes a mug out of the cupboard, drops a tea bag into it, then removes his phone from his pocket. ‘I have a few messages to deal with. I’ll be done in a couple of minutes, knock back the tea and go.’

‘Steve . . .’ I look at him, but he’s already engrossed in his phone. So I go upstairs and continue drying my hair.

My hair is done and I’m wriggling into my dress when he walks into the bedroom again.

‘Don’t you ever knock?’ I demand as I tug it around my waist.

‘I know you well enough not to knock,’ he says. ‘You must be going somewhere nice. That’s your posh dress.’

It’s one of my only dresses, and if not posh, it’s the prettiest one I possess. It’s a cerise Ted Baker with a sheer neckline and a full skirt with prints of multicoloured butterflies, and I always feel cheerful when I put it on. I wear it either with my solitary pair of stilettos (when I’m going full dress-up mode) or with a pair of mid-heeled black ankle boots, which is a bit more my style. As I don’t want to go full dress-up, but mainly because it’s still snowy outside, I pull on the boots while Steve stands there watching me.

‘It isn’t a date, is it?’ he asks.

‘It’s none of your business.’

‘Well, if it is, I’m glad you’re moving on.’

‘Steve, get out of my bedroom. Get out of my house.’

‘I want to be friends, Izzy. Why don’t you?’

‘Because you broke my heart!’ I whirl around from the mirror, which I’ve been using to check how I look. ‘You broke my heart, you broke off our engagement – what am I saying, you cancelled our wedding! You don’t love me, but I love you . . .’ I stop as I see the expression on his face. ‘Loved you,’ I amend. ‘I loved you and you let me down.’

‘Oh, sweetheart, no.’ In two steps he’s beside me and his hands are on my shoulders. I can smell his aftershave, a subtle woody scent that will always make me think of him. ‘I know I was a prat and I wish I’d behaved better.’

‘Forget it.’ I try for dismissive but only succeed in sounding mulish. ‘It’s fine.’

‘It’s not.’ He leans towards me and brushes my lips with his. ‘It’s not, and I’ll always regret that I hurt you.’ And then he kisses me again, and I don’t know why I kiss him back, but I do, and before I realise what’s happening, his hand is on my leg and pushing up my dress.

‘For God’s sake!’ I can’t believe it took me all of five seconds to come to my senses. ‘What the hell d’you think you’re doing?’

‘OK, OK.’ He removes his hand and shrugs. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . I’m out of here.’

He turns away and clatters down the stairs. A moment later, I hear the front door slam. I peep out of the window to make sure he’s gone before I sit on the edge of the bed and rest my head in my hands.

What on earth just happened? Did I encourage my ex-fiancé to kiss me and touch me and make me feel . . . well, I don’t know how I feel, to be honest. I’m actually shaking, but I’m not sure what emotion is causing my hand to tremble and my eyes to fill with tears. I don’t want my eyes to fill with tears, because I don’t have time to redo my make-up, so I sniff a couple of times, then blow my nose and finish getting ready.

I pause before I go downstairs again, checking myself in the mirror and thinking that I look good in my cerise dress, black jacket and black boots. I look strong and capable.

It would be nice if I felt that way too.