‘God, I miss him,’ Robyn said, realising she was ready to go home now.
‘How’s Greece?’
Robyn looked up over the huge, sweeping vista, the sea shimmering in the distance. ‘It’s so beautiful here. The villa is amazing – it has a private beach and there are no other properties for miles. Right now, I’m on a mountain trail and Mum, there’s no one in sight. It’s incredible.’
‘Your dad and I could use a break somewhere like that.’
‘Last night I slept for ten hours straight. I can’t even remember when that last happened.’
‘Lucky for some. Jack was in our bed by five thirty.’
‘Oh, sorry,’ she apologised instinctively. Her mother always did this, made Robyn feel guilty when she was having a good time. It would be nice if, just for once, she could celebrate Robyn’s happiness. ‘It’s been really good for me coming here.’
‘Enjoy it while it lasts because you’re going to be busy when you get back.’ A pause. ‘You’ve had some post.’
‘Oh?’
‘From the solicitors. I think it’s your divorce papers.’
Her stomach fell. She didn’t want to think about her divorce out here. She wanted to feel the soaring freedom of the mountain air, the expanse of the horizon. She wanted to feel like the old Robyn. The memory of her was intoxicating – glimpsed like a fleck of something lost, sparkling in the sand. She just needed to dig, to go a little deeper, to pull it out into the light and remember.
‘I’ll deal with that when I’m home.’ Can’t I just enjoy this?
‘Your father and I were talking …’
This call was never about Jack’s treasure, Robyn realised, tipping back her head.
‘… and we think you need to have a long, hard think about whether this really is the right thing for Jack.’
Her mouth fell open. ‘For Jack? What does that even mean?’
‘Do you want him growing up in a single-parent family?’ her mother asked, lowering her voice as if there was something shameful about the very notion of it.
‘I want Jack growing up with a happy mother. Have you forgotten that Bill cheated on me?’
‘Robyn, he’s not the first man to make a mistake.’
‘It wasn’t a mistake! He was sleeping with other women before we even got married, for God’s sake!’
‘Don’t use that tone with me.’ Her mother’s voice was calm as she said, ‘I know he hurt you, but he has apologised and wants to try again.’
Yes, he’d apologised, and yes he’d asked her to come back – but only because his current relationship was crumbling.
Her mother went on. ‘I want you to be sure you’re not cutting off your nose to spite your face. Bill isn’t perfect, but he’s a good man.’
‘I don’t love him.’
I never loved him, she realised, in a startling flash of perfect clarity.
I. Never. Loved. Him.
The knowledge sat there, echoing in the quiet chamber of her mind. She had never loved her husband. When she’d discovered he’d cheated on her, she’d felt angry and deceived, but she hadn’t felt a bone-shattering loss. She’d felt indignant because he’d broken a promise. She’d felt humiliated. Never heartbroken.
I never loved him.
She had an overwhelming desire to say those words aloud, see how they fit. ‘I never loved him, Mum,’ she whispered.
‘What did you say?’
She took a breath. ‘I never loved Bill.’
‘Don’t be silly! You married him.’
Silly.
Robyn was always silly if she felt anything that was not what her mother expected her to feel. It reduced her emotions, made her tidy them up neatly and store them away.
‘I never loved him,’ she repeated, louder, firmly.
So why did I marry him? she wondered now. Because they’d been together for three years and she was getting to that age when women start marrying? Because he ticked all the boxes that she thought needed ticking: handsome, kind, good career prospects? Because he’d asked her? Because she didn’t want to look at what she would do, who she would be, if she said no?
‘Your father and I just wanted to check that you were sure the divorce was the right thing. You’re telling us it is, so it is.’
Her mother couldn’t abide confrontation. She might be the first to stick the knife in, but she’d pull it out so swiftly that you’d only realise later you were bleeding. Right now, Robyn could feel the hot drip of blood, could feel anger bubbling to the surface. ‘Why did you call to tell me about the divorce papers? It could’ve waited until I’m home,’ she said, flicking a black ant from her shin.