FIVE
Mia
I close the front door behind me, lean my back against it, and thunk my head into the solid wood. What am I doing? I’m pretty sure I just asked Luke to Netflix and chill with me. No wonder he looked at me like that. I didn’t mean it like that , though. At least, I think I didn’t. I’m engaged for heaven’s sake! It’s just, he’s so easy to be around and I have to admit, I’ve been kind of lonely lately.
While I might not be an extrovert, I still enjoy having someone around. Someone to quietly be in the same space as me. Someone who won’t demand my attention, but who’s happy to be there. I always thought Oliver got that about me. Only, lately he’s been working so much, and when I asked him about it, he said he prefers to leave work at the office rather than bringing it home.
I can understand that. I hate bringing work home, too. I just don’t understand how he can be quite so busy given we mostly work on the same cases. Still, his job is demanding and he’s been pushing my dad to make him a partner, so he’s been doing his best to win every case. Putting in long hours and spending lots of time preparing witnesses ahead of every trial.
I push myself off the door and go find my phone. Still no reply from Oliver. It’s early, but my stomach rumbles so I ring and order a pizza from the local takeaway. Nothing like greasy food and wine to make me feel extra lousy, but that never stopped me before. No Uber Eats in Kraken Cove, though, so I have to drive down to pick it up. Which gives me an excuse to get some chocolate at the store. OK, all the chocolate.
By the time I’ve got a glass of pinot gris from the cellar in my hand and a slice of chicken and salami pizza half-eaten on my plate, I’m just feeling mad. By the time I’ve eaten three quarters of it and drunk at least half the bottle, I’m sad, and all the stress I’ve been pushing down about the wedding and work and the renovation floods to the surface, welling at my eyes.
Flicking on my phone, I dial Oliver’s number for the third time today. I’m actually a little bit shocked when he answers.
“Mia, hi. Sorry. I’ve been tied up with work stuff. You know how it is. Did you get the bathroom sorted?”
“Hi!” The quaver in my voice has no right to be there. I clear my throat and continue. “Got it sorted. We ended up picking out some green tiles instead and I actually really like—”
“So, are you coming back to Sydney tonight?”
He cuts me off and it takes me a moment to process his question. “Oh. No. I figured I’d just hang out for the weekend. It’s so much nicer here. Why don’t you come down tomorrow and we can get up early Monday and drive back in time for work?”
“Mia, you know I’m too busy for that right now. I just need some time to relax before the trial continues on Monday.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I guess I thought it might be relaxing to spend a night here. You could come tonight and make it two.”
Oliver sighs. “I feel like you’re not listening to me.”
Guilt twists my stomach. He’s right. He said he didn’t want to come. “I’m sorry.”
He sighs again. “Forget it. Why don’t you just relax and have a nice weekend? You can get some planning done for the wedding while you’re there.”
Inwardly, I groan. I didn’t need a reminder about the fact I’ve been putting this off. “Yeah, ah, about that. Nancy called. You know I told you she wants to know which stationery to use...”
“Mia, just get whatever you want. You know I don’t care about that stuff. It’s all you, babe.”
That’s my problem, but it feels selfish to say so, when Oliver is clearly feeling tired and stressed. He doesn’t need this weighing him down as well. “Yeah. Alright. I’ll work something out.”
“Thanks.” After a pause, Oliver says, “So you’re coming home on Monday morning?”
“I guess so.”
“Great. Well I’ll talk to you then, OK? Take it easy. ”
He hangs up before I’ve barely even said goodbye and it occurs to me we ended the conversation without saying I love you. Is this normal for a couple about to get married? I mean admittedly, we’ve been together since high school. Well, if you don’t count that summer and my gap year.
It feels like a long time. It’s not like we’re in the first flush of the romance anymore. I think getting married at this point is just formalising what everyone always expected we’d do anyway. Even my parents talk about us as if we’re an old married couple. But shouldn’t there be a little spark left? A little excitement or missing one another when we’re not together?
I take another sip of my wine and stare at my phone. Impulsively, I call Tegan, the only other person in my life apart from my parents who has known me as long as Oliver.
“Hey, Teegs, am I making a huge mistake?”
She laughs. “Mia, knowing you, I’m going to say no. You’re always so careful about everything. What’s stressing you?”
I swirl the liquid in my glass, wondering how much to say. Tegan and I are close, but I’ve always held back talking to her about my issues with Oliver. Ever since the end of Year 12 when he wanted to take a break and she became captain of team ‘I-hate-Oliver’.
Suddenly, I regret calling. I don’t want to make this a big deal. With Tegan everything is always a big deal. “Oh, I’m being silly. It’s nothing. How’s your weekend? Are you up to anything fun tonight?”
“Mia! You can’t call me and ask me a question like that, and then claim it’s nothing. Spill the beans! Or else!”
I sigh. Nothing for it. “I think it’s just a case of cold feet. ”
“Mmmm.” Tegan’s tone is low and serious and I almost wish she’d joke about this. “What’s he done?”
“No. Nothing. It’s probably just me. It’s just that he’s been so busy lately and then we talked on the phone just now, and it occurred to me we don’t even say I love you anymore. Isn’t that weird?”
In a rush, all my little niggling fears come spilling out. All the nights Oliver worked late and the times he was too busy to do things with me on the weekends. The way he doesn’t seem very interested in planning the wedding and the way he hardly ever talks to me when we’re home together. Tegan listens quietly until I’m done.
“But it’s not like I’ve been that excited about planning the wedding either, you know? We’re both just tired.”
“Hmmm,” Tegan says again. “Maybe it’s your heart telling you this is all wrong.”
I knew she’d do this. “Or maybe I just don’t want to plan a wedding and we should just elope!”
Rather than laugh, Tegan is silent for a long moment. “And he’s been working late a lot?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re sure he’s at the office the whole time?”
I pause. I mean, I assume that’s where he’s been. Except when I know he’s been visiting with witnesses or dining with clients. “Well, not every time.”
“Hmmm.”
OK, I’m getting a little sick of that little noise. “What?”
“Well, it’s just that these would be the classic signs of a guy who was up to no good. ”
My mouth falls open and I have to put down my glass of wine before I spill it. “No.” I’m shaking my head even though she can’t see me. “Not Oliver. There’s no way he’s cheating. It’s just not him. Besides, he hasn’t even wanted to have sex recently...”
Then I hear myself.
For a really long moment neither Tegan nor I say anything at all. There’s a whirring in my ears and my head spins while I try to stop all those little fears from doing a victory dance in my brain. “Do you...do you think he’s cheating?”
The question hangs in the air between us for another few seconds. Tegan says nothing.
“He was very persistent asking me when I was coming home...” I say.
Another pause.
“And it’s weird that he would work today as well...”
Tegan’s voice is suddenly loud on the other end of the phone. “I’m going to go find out!”
“What?” I launch out of my chair, knocking the pizza box to the floor. “You can’t do that! What are you going to do? Ask him?”
“No. But I’m going round there. I still have your key after I house sat for you guys.”
“No! You can’t.”
“Oh, yes, I can.”
“Tegan!”
“Look, I’ll drop by and tell him you said I could borrow a dress or something. I’ll tell him I thought he was with you down the coast. If he’s really home in his dressing gown or something, then I guess I’m the asshole, but if not...” She trails off. She doesn’t have to finish her sentence.
I sigh. I hate the idea, but I also hate suspecting Oliver. Now the thought is in my head, it won’t leave me alone. Shouldn’t I trust him more than this?
Tegan hangs up. I spend the next thirty minutes pacing the living room, unable to settle. My stomach feels queasy and I’m really regretting all the pizza. The sight of the leftovers in the box turns my stomach, so I take the box outside and dump the rest in the garbage, huddling in Luke’s warm jumper as I hurry back through the door. I try to switch on the TV, but I can’t focus on anything. All I’m doing is looking down at my phone every few seconds, waiting for Tegan’s call.
Shit.
I get up to go to the toilet and when I get back, there’s a notification.
Tegan: Good news. He’s home
Tegan: Bad news. He’s wasn’t alone
I drop the phone and it bounces off the side of the coffee table with a thwack. No. No way. Not possible. This is not my life. This isn’t how it’s meant to go. I’ve known Oliver since we were sixteen years old. This just doesn’t happen to couples like us.
When I pick up my phone, there’s an ugly crack across the screen to match the ugly crack in my heart. With trembling hands, I dial Tegan’s number to confirm what I think I already knew. Thank God, my phone still works. I’m not so sure about my heart.