I saw them together in the atrium, laughing, her golden hair catching the sun, his hand on her arm. I’d planned to surprise him, take him for lunch.
I quietly withdrew.
That evening nothing was said. I appeared happy. Jolly even. When he went to bed, I checked his phone and read the messages. Obviously from her. They were affectionate, if not yet loving. A bud about to blossom.
I bought exciting new lingerie, read cookbooks, and bought West End tickets. He responded eagerly and when I next checked the phone, he’d left her.
It was then that I left him.