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My Husband Kissed His Girl Best Friend in Front of 200 People, So I Filed for Divorce novel · Chapter 20 of 24

Chapter 20: Not a Choice

Nathan put the phone face down on the rug.

"I'll ring him tomorrow," he said.

"And say what?"

"I don't know yet."

He didn't lie to me. I liked that about him.

I hated it a bit too, at midnight, on Gran's rug, with the rain coming down.

"Manchester's national," I said.

"It is."

"Saturday night football. Every pub in the country."

"Yeah."

"That's what you wanted. Before the knee."

He turned his head and looked at me.

"You've been reading up on me."

"I'm a bookkeeper. I read everything now."

He laughed, but not much.

We lay there and listened to the rain.

In the morning he made toast and burned it, and we didn't talk about Manchester.

On Monday we didn't talk about it either.

By Wednesday it was sitting in every room with us.

I said it first, in the Gold Hound's office, with the door shut.

"You should go."

He was eating crisps on the desk, legs too long for the room.

He stopped chewing.

"Is that what you want?"

"It's not about what I want. That's the point." I put my pen down. "I've spent six years with a man who was always choosing between me and somebody else. I'm not doing it to you."

"Tash."

"I mean it. I won't make you pick. I watched Steph do it to Alfie for twelve years. I'm not her."

He put the crisps down.

"And if I stay?"

"Then you stay because you want Bristol," I said. "Not because of me. I'm not being anybody's reason to settle for less. And I'm not being anybody's second choice either. Ever again."

He was quiet for a long time.

"That's two rules," he said.

"I've got loads. I'm a bookkeeper."

He nodded slowly.

Then he picked up his crisps and went out into the bar without a word.

I sat in that cupboard of an office and did the wages and didn't cry, and was proud of it.

On Friday night the pub was full for the first league match of the season.

City at home on the screens.

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