She wants to scream at him. But she knows she can’t. Not here, not in the fresh Waverly air, not with him in the clothes where he probably has a snack for his kids in the coat pocket, or when he can still feel the press of Rosie’s mouth on his cheek.
Abi knows better than to say ‘never’, so instead she shrugs and asks, ‘You?’
Seb stares at her, grinds his jaw. He swallows and says, like it absolves him of everything, ‘I love my wife.’
Abi doesn’t point out that that wasn’t what she asked.
He looks at her, brow furrowed, disgust twisting his mouth. It’s a look Abi knows well. Revulsion. Still, she’ll just about take it over pity. ‘Don’t you dare look at me like that.’
Seb hangs his head again and says, ‘Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. All I want is to understand why you’re here. What it means. Obviously, no one knows.’ He glances again at her, hoping she’ll let him off, but she won’t. She’s been letting men off for years. She stares at him to make him keep talking and he does, but so quietly she can barely hear.
‘No one knows about us.’
‘Same here.’
He looks at her, startled. ‘What about your friends, your family?’
She could tell him the truth: that her only friends are her kids and an unpredictable Mexican chef who is also now her boss, and that her mum, still living on the estate where Abi grew up, hasn’t spoken to her for years. But she won’t tell him any of it because there’s already sorrow rippling across his brow and the truth would probably tip him over the edge. Just because she can cope with her story doesn’t mean other people can.
She just shakes her head.
‘Why are you here – in Waverly, I mean?’ he asks again.
She motions to the restaurant. ‘Like I said, for the opportunity. For my girls. For all of us. It was just time for me to move on. Just like you.’
He nods slowly, taking it in, taking the time to process the startling fact that she is just, well, ordinary.
‘What did you tell Rosie?’
He breathes out quickly and for a moment Abi thinks he’s going to start hyperventilating again, but he manages to keep himself steady. ‘I told her I had a migraine, that I had to lie down.’
‘She believed you?’ Abi knows the answer; Rosie isn’t stupid. Seb shakes his head.
‘After you left, she knew something was off. She asked if I knew you. I told her there was an issue with your daughter at school – a confidential thing – that you’d had a disagreement with one of the teachers and, well, that we’d had an awkward email exchange.’
‘Oh God.’
‘What was I supposed to do?’
‘Don’t bring my children into it!’
‘I’m sorry. I was in shock; I wasn’t thinking straight.’
‘She won’t believe it. I would have mentioned something like that to her before meeting you.’
It is clear then that Seb might be many things, but he isn’t good at lying.
‘Rosie messaged me this morning,’ she continues.
Seb looks up. ‘What did she say?’
‘She invited me and the girls over on the weekend and, no, I haven’t replied yet.’
‘What are you going to say?’
‘I’m not sure yet.’
‘Don’t – please don’t be flippant. This is my life, our lives we’re talking about.’
Abi’s about to ask whether he’s referring to him and her or to him and Rosie, but her eyes catch movement outside the window. The traffic warden is walking away from Lotte now, shaking his head, Lotte waving her arms, still ranting behind him.
They don’t have long.
Abi closes her eyes briefly. The veil between her old and new worlds is, in this moment, gossamer thin. She needs this to stop.
‘Look,’ she says softly but clearly, ‘we’ve got the same problem. It would be better – much better – for us both if no one finds out what happened.’
Seb nods. ‘I agree. I completely agree.’
Cool relief washes through Abi’s body.
‘I need you to distance yourself from my wife.’ Seb adds, ‘Please. No more messages, no more walks and no more invites to dinner.’
Anger ripples through her. She hates him, hates any man, especially this kind of man, dictating what she can and can’t do, but she concedes with a bow of her head. Friendship with Rosie – real, true friendship – is no longer possible anyway. How could it be when she’d previously washed her husband’s semen from between her legs? Another wasted relationship to add to the pile. But Rosie isn’t Abi’s focus now.
‘What about Lily, school?’
Seb puffs out his cheeks, glances briefly at the ceiling. ‘I’ll be professional.’ He looks Abi in the eye as he says, ‘I promise I won’t treat Lily any differently because of all this. She’s a good kid, talented; she’s got nothing to do with any of this.’
Abi looks back at him and for the first time she thinks she might cry; kindness has always moved her more than cruelty. But she reminds herself now, looking at Seb, that kindness can be just another act.
‘Don’t ever tangle my girls up in another lie.’
He nods. ‘I’m sorry I did that. I won’t do it again.’
Then he lifts his hand to his face, and he starts to sob again, little whimpering sounds.
The whimpering turns into a kind of growl before he does something unexpected: he moves closer, towards Abi.
‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’