The Liar Next Door by Nicola Marsh
Thirteen
Frankie
NOW
Andre is avoiding me.
Luna falls asleep about a minute after he closes the book he’d been reading to her, the exhaustion after today’s festivities outweighing the amount of sugar she’s consumed. I’m peeking through the door and when her eyelids flutter shut, Andre glances at me and we share a smile. The tired but happy smile of most parents at the end of a day, a “she’s so darn adorable but boy am I glad she’s asleep” smile.
I head downstairs and pour us both a glass of Shiraz and curl up on the couch to wait for him. But after fifteen minutes, he hasn’t appeared. Too comfortable to move from my position, I text him.
WHERE R U? I HAVE WINE.
I hear him padding on the floorboards overhead so I sip my Shiraz and wait. But he doesn’t appear. Instead, I hear the shower running. Annoyed my plans for a relaxing evening have been thwarted, I down the rest of the wine in a few gulps and leave his on the coffee table before marching upstairs.
I sit cross-legged in the middle of our bed, waiting. I’d hoped the wine would take the edge off my frustration at allowing insecurities to surface after watching Andre with Celeste at the party earlier, but it hasn’t and I’m edgier than ever. I don’t want to be the harpy housewife spoiling for an argument with my husband but having him ignore my text hasn’t helped my mood. When the shower finally shuts off and he strolls into our room with a towel wrapped around his waist, I’m primed for a fight.
“Didn’t you get my text?”
He shrugs like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Yeah, but I thought I’d have a shower first.”
“You couldn’t tell me that?”
He sighs. “Babe, I’m tired. I needed a shower. What’s with the attitude?”
“Pardon me for wanting to unwind with a wine and my husband at the end of a day.”
He grins. “You know you’re irresistible when you’re snarky.”
I hold up my hand when he sits on the bed. “I want to ask you something.”
“Now?” He glances at the towel, where I see hard evidence he’s not put-off by my bad mood. “Come on, babe, surely it can wait?”
I ignore what’s going on behind that towel and cross my arms. “Do you know Celeste?”
I wanted to be subtle, to casually ask an offhand question, but I’ve blurted it and he’s taken aback. I watch for any telltale signs he’s lying.
“Yeah, I know her.” His jaw juts as he grits his teeth. “I know her because I met her earlier today.”
“For the first time?”
“For fuck’s sake, Frankie.” He leaps off the bed and marches to the wardrobe, flinging it open so hard the door bangs the wall. He winces and I listen to make sure Luna hasn’t stirred. He snatches pajama bottoms from a clean pile and drags them on, only dropping the towel when he’s done.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
When he turns back to face me, anger stains his cheeks. “What is it with you? We’ve had a nice day with our neighbors, our daughter is out like a light at a reasonable hour for the first time all week and you want to waste time picking a fight?”
“I’m not picking a fight. I want to know why you were acting so weird around Celeste today.”
His eyes narrow in disbelief. “What were you doing, watching my every move?”
“Something like that,” I fling at him, my slow simmering temper starting to boil. “What’s the big deal? I like to watch my husband. Is that a crime?”
“It is if you’re doing it out of doubt rather than love,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Shit, Frankie, when are you going to cut me a break? I thought we were past all this years ago.”
“We are…” I’m surprised to find tears stinging the backs of my eyes. “I’ve forgiven you, but at times it’s hard to forget…” I whisper.
His shoulders slump like I’ve dumped an invisible weight on them. “What have I done to make you doubt me?”
Images of him interacting with Celeste from earlier today play through my mind and I have to admit there’s nothing suspicious he did, it’s just a feeling… but how can I tell him that without sounding crazy?
“Nothing,” I say, confusion making me doubt what I saw. Maybe I imagined the whole thing? “Sorry. It’s been a long week and I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
“You’re forgiven.”
He opens his arms to me and as I snuggle into them, I hope I’m not being naïve.