He paused, clearly uncertain whether to articulate his next thought. He did. ‘You threw stuff at me.’
I looked down. I thought, perceiving myself from outside, I am hanging my head. I am bowed by shame.
‘I can’t describe what that was like, Martha. I really can’t, and you expected me to just get over it. You would say you wanted to talk about things but you didn’t. You decided that because I don’t provide a continuous emotional commentary and describe every single feeling I have as it’s occurring that I don’t feel anything. You told me I was blank. Do you remember? You said I was just the outline of where a husband should be.’
I said I didn’t remember. I did. It was in a department store. We were buying a mattress. I kept asking for his opinion. He kept saying he didn’t mind either way, until I stormed out and did not come home for so many hours without telling him where I was that by the time I got back he had called everyone he could think of to see if they had heard from me. ‘I mean yes, sorry. I do. I’m sorry.’
‘You constantly accused me of being passive and not wanting anything but I wasn’t allowed to want anything. That’s how it worked. Accepting whatever I got was the only way to keep the peace. And even –’ Patrick felt the back of his neck, pressing his fingers into a muscle, looking as if he’d located some source of pain ‘– you’ve known me this long but you think the first thing I’d do after I left you is go and sleep with your cousin.’
‘No I –’ I did.
‘It belonged to one of her Rorys. He had the same watch as me. But you didn’t even question if there could be another explanation or consider you could be wrong. What’s the point, if that’s who you think I am?’
I said I am so sorry. ‘I’m the worst person in the world.’
‘No you’re not.’ Patrick’s hand came down in a fist and he hit the arm of the sofa. ‘You’re not the best person in the world either, which is what you really think. You’re the same as everybody else. But that’s harder for you, isn’t it. You’d rather be one or the other. The idea you might be ordinary is unbearable.’
I did not dispute him. Only said, I’m sorry it was fucking awful.
‘Some of the time.’ He sighed and picked up the journal again and let it fall open anywhere. ‘Most of the time it was amazing. You made me so happy, Martha. You have no idea. You have no idea how good it was. That’s the part I’m finding hardest to deal with. That you were oblivious to everything that was good about it. You couldn’t see it.’
I told Patrick I could now.
‘I know.’
I watched him turn back, in search of some particular page, scan it silently for a second and then he started reading aloud: ‘At a wedding shortly after our own, I followed Patrick through the dense crowd at the reception to a woman who was standing by herself.’
I touched one of my ears and felt very hot.
‘He said instead of looking at her every five minutes and feeling sad I should just go over and compliment her hat.’ Patrick looked up. ‘Did I?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t remember that. I just remember –’ he smiled vaguely ‘– at the time thinking you were so, I mean who would care so much about some woman who can’t get an hors d’oeuvre in her mouth, but you were beside yourself. You looked like you were in physical pain. You just talked and talked and talked until she was okay. That’s what I, that’s the kind of thing –’ He trailed off, and turned somewhere else in the journal and said, ‘This is brilliant. Really Martha.’
I asked him if he had known today was our wedding anniversary when he texted about meeting.
‘Yes, sorry. It wasn’t on purpose. I just needed to get things done.’
I said, ‘Anyway, I should go.’ He handed me the journal.
We both stood up.
‘Okay, well.’
‘Yes, great.’
I said goodbye and it wasn’t enough, one word, too quotidian to contain the end of the world. But it was all there was. I started walking towards the lift.
Patrick said Martha, wait.
‘What?’
‘You were right. I did know there was something wrong. Not to start with but the last few years.’ He looked, suddenly, ill. ‘I knew it wasn’t you. I knew there was something wrong but I was just trying to keep going. I felt like I couldn’t face the whole process. Or I was scared that we’d find out and it would be something we couldn’t deal with and it would be the end. And sometimes, you’re right as well, I didn’t mind everyone thinking I was this incredible husband, because I felt useless, most of the time. But the thing –’ He broke off and then, with uncut anguish, Patrick said, ‘The thing I am most ashamed of is saying you shouldn’t be a mother. It’s not true. I was so angry.’ It was just the worst thing he could think of.