Page 50 of The Three of Us
Carly’s room is just as he would have expected it to be. Very tidy, with bookshelves lining one wall and a double bed, neatly made, with pink covers, against the other. He can see the top of a tree through the window, and hear the faint hum of traffic. They stand for a few seconds, just looking at each other, as if neither of them can be quite sure what is supposed to happen next, or if they really want it to.
‘I really care about you, Jack.’ She says it so quietly he wonders if he might have imagined it, but the look in her eyes tells him he hasn’t. ‘I think I’m probably half in love with you already, and it would be so easy to let myself fall the whole way, head first, no holding back… but I can’t, can I? And I have no idea what to do about it.’
There is only one thing they can do. At this moment, anyway. Later doesn’t matter. What happens after this doesn’t matter. Not anymore. They have waited so long.
He wraps his arms around her and slips a hand underneath her top, letting his fingers roam up her bare back, pulling her closer. She lets out a small groan and does the same to him, each of them exploring the other’s hidden skin, tentatively, gently, for the first time.
The bed is inches away and he’s not sure who makes the first move, but they are on it now, his body alongside hers, his hands moving around to the front of her top and easing it up and off over her head as a book slips off the pillow and hits the floor with a thud.
Chapter 28
Carly
What the hell am I doing? I’m lying, half-naked, with the man of my dreams snogging my face off, and I just know it’s not right. You know how that happens sometimes? When you’ve waited forever for something, and built it up in your head, and then when you suddenly get it, you realise it’s not really what you expected, not what you wanted at all?
I roll away, as best I can when he’s half on top of me, and plonk a hand over each nipple. Not that he hasn’t already seen me in all my glory, or had a good feel of them, but this isn’t a conversation I can have with my bare chest on full display.
‘No, Jack.’
‘No?’ He sits up. ‘But I thought you wanted…’
‘So did I.’
‘If it’s being careful you’re worrying about… Condoms…’
‘No, it’s nothing to do with condoms. I just can’t do it. We can’t do it.’
‘Speak for yourself. I most certainly can.’ He lowers his gaze to his open trousers and the prominent bulge that just seconds ago was pushing urgently against my thigh. I get a glimpse of his underwear, bright red with some kind of superhero design that, in any other circumstances, would have had me in fits of giggles or recoiling in mock horror. Mr Darcy emerging from the lake he most certainly is not.
‘We were meant to be talking, remember? And eating. And sorting things out once and for all.’ I’m desperately trying to cover everything up and willing Jack to do the same. ‘Not having sex.’
‘Right. Okay.’ He says it but I’m not sure he means it.
‘Please, Jack. I don’t sleep with married men. I told you that before. Not even when that married man is you. I have wanted you, so badly, but I’ve been blind to a lot of things, things we really can’t change, so it has to stop here, right now. I’ll get over it, I have to, and this… this is not happening. I can’t let it.’
‘But Mol…’ He’s said it automatically, without thinking, started to call me by her name. And that’s when I know I’ve done exactly the right thing in stopping this right now. ‘Oh, God, Carly, I’m so sorry. It’s just habit. A slip of the tongue. Forgive me.’
I sit on the edge of the bed, my back turned towards him so he can’t see my face, or my boobs. I lean down and rescue my book, smoothing its cover and checking it’s not damaged in any way. It’s a new edition of Persuasion that I’ve only just started to read, leather-bound in red and gold, and suddenly making sure it has survived seems to be all I can focus on, the only thing that matters.
‘Nothing to forgive,’ I force myself to say. ‘She’s your wife, and I’m not. Simple as that. I’m sure it’s her name that always comes out of your mouth when you’re in a… situation like this. Now, we can go back into the kitchen and eat that pasta, like civilised people, old friends sharing a meal and a glass of wine, or you can go home now. Either way, none of this ever happens again, and we don’t talk about it again either, okay? And Molly never has to know. We’re done. Finished. It’s best for all three of us, I know it is, believe me.’ I manage to find my top, lying in a heap on the carpet, and pull it back on, keeping my back towards him, not bothering to locate my bra and have to fiddle about with the hooks while he’s watching me.
‘If you say so. If a woman says no, she means no. I am aware of that, and I respect that, but are you sure? We could be really good together. We fit, don’t we?’ He looks up at me with his big brown puppy eyes and I so want to back down, to whip off all of my clothes again and lie back down on the bed and let myself melt into him, but it’s too late for that now. I’m letting him go. I have to.
It’s dark outside but the street lights are on. I lift the curtain and watch Jack walk away down the street.
‘You okay, Carls?’ Fran stands behind me and rests a hand on my shoulder.
‘I will be. Nothing a bottle of wine won’t put right.’ I’m not sure that’s quite true but I’m not about to spill all to Fran, and wine always helps, doesn’t it?
‘Fancy a chocolate as well? I’ve got a whole box of truffles unopened. The good Belgian ones. I’m happy to share.’
‘Do you know, I think I do. I’ve gone off the idea of that pasta now. Let’s pig out on whatever we fancy tonight, all the stuff that’s bad for us, and hang the consequences.’
‘I tend to live my whole life that way.’ Fran sighs and pulls me into a big blubbery cuddle.
I lower the curtain and turn away from the window.
‘So that was the famous Jack?’ she says, shoving the ironing board back into a cupboard and ripping the cellophane off the chocolates. ‘Not quite as handsome as you and Suze have had me believe.’