“No. I just . . .” Annie paused. I don’t want any part of my new life sullied. The flat was un-Maxed, and she wanted it to remain that way. “I just don’t think exes need to come round for cups of tea. Part of being exes is that you chose to be separated.”
“I didn’t choose to be separated, you did.”
“You made that decision when you chose to start fucking a woman more than twenty years younger than me!”
“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry for you to believe me?” he asked.
“It’s not about saying you’re sorry, Max; you didn’t spill coffee on the rug. What you did was bigger than something that requires a quick sorry.”
Max held his hands up. “I know, you’re right, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of it. But can’t you see how much I want you back?”
“You get an A for effort. You are excellent at wooing. It’s the after-woo that lets us down.”
“I’ll keep it up then, I’ll never stop the wooing. I’ll be Prince Charming forever.”
“No. I’m not saying I need a lifetime of romance; truth be told, I’m all wooed out. But . . .” She struggled to find the right words. “This is the part where you shine, Max; no one does romantic gestures like you do. But your attention span is short. As soon as you’ve won the prize, you start looking for the next challenge. Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that you win me over; how long will it be before my shine wears off and you’re looking for another shiny young thing to win?”
“Never again. I know I’ve said this before, but that was before you’d left me. This has been my wake-up call. For the first time in my life I truly know what I want, and it’s you, Annie. It’s always been you. You’re all I want.”
Annie sighed.
“It’s a strange word, isn’t it,” she said. “Want. What you want has always been the problem because want wears off. Want is craving a biscuit; you want a biscuit but then you eat the biscuit, and it was just a biscuit. It’s a feeling that passes, and this desperation you think you feel for me, this is going to pass.”
“Want was a poor choice of word,” said Max; his expression was pained. “I need you, Annie. I love you, I love you like I’m crazy with it.”
“But I don’t love you anymore. And if you loved me you wouldn’t have slept with Ellie.”
Max’s eyes welled with tears. “Don’t say that!” he pleaded. “I can make you love me again.”
“I don’t want to love you again!” Annie shouted in exasperation. “Loving you is exhausting. It’s too hard.”
“Is it that man?”
“What man?” Annie asked. A picture of John Granger bloomed behind her eyes and she shook it away quickly.
“The man whose house you spent the night at the other week.”
Jeez! she thought. Paul!
“No,” Annie replied. “It isn’t him, it isn’t anyone. Or at least if it is someone else, it’s Ellie and the long list of women who went before her.”
Max looked stung, but Annie found herself untouched.
“Please, Max,” she went on. “Save us both a lot of pain and give it up now. We made two great kids, we built a great business, and now it’s over. I’m going to file for a divorce.”
“I’ll never agree to one,” said Max, dashing the tears from his eyes.
“I’m going to file for one anyway. And if you don’t get me access to my bank accounts ASAP, I’ll be speaking to my solicitor about that too. I might even have a case for suing you.”
Max stood up. Annie stayed where she was. He picked up the boom box, and Annie watched him walk dejectedly to his car. He slammed the door shut and revved the engine too loudly before pulling away, the shingle jumping beneath his wheels.
Chapter 48
It’ll be such a shame if this place gets flattened,” Gemma lamented. “I love our book club evenings and having a café down here. And, Annie, this is your business and your home, you can’t want to see it bulldozed!”
They were supposed to be discussing “The Mezzotint” by M. R. James. Annie had purposely not switched on the lamps for this, their Halloween book club, so that the room was lit only by candlelight. Their figures, huddled around the table, cast long shadows on the walls. The wind whistled through the shuttered windows and caused the candles to flicker. M. R. James was the last of their short stories to be discussed, although keeping the book club on track was like trying to race ants. As usual, the fate of Saltwater Nook and John’s part in its demise was a hot topic.