Page 137 of Push

He laughed. “Love it, doll.”

Swallowing hard, I ignored the hammering in my chest and shuffled to the dressing table. I picked up the envelope and clutched it in shaking hands.

“Guess it’s time?” Toby asked.

I grimaced. “Yeah.”

“Want me to give you some space?”

“Can you stay?” I flopped on the bed and shimmied against the mountain of pillows. I got as comfortable as I could with the crumbling walls of my marriage about to crash at my feet. “I might have some questions.” I patted a spot closer to me, and Toby scootched over.

We exchanged a look after I flipped open the envelope. We’d shared a look like that once before, with our toes peeking over the scratchy sandstone edge of the Blairgowrie Jumping Rock. First, we’d stared at the ocean twenty feet below, then at each other. We’d kissed. We’d gulped a big, brave breath and jumped off the edge into the abyss.

This moment was like that, but it probably wouldn’t end the same. There wouldn’t be excited laughs or salty ocean kisses in front of clapping tourists. There was only…abyss.

I took out the wad of paper stuffed inside the envelope. My stomach plummeted just like the day we’d leaped off the Blairgowrie Jumping Rock. Blue biro words blurred as I fanned the pages. Betrayal took up a lot of space.

I can do this.

The first entry, written in blocked capitals, was dated almost a year ago.

Ian brought Kayleigh to meet me. I thought she was another fill-in from the agency. She’d only worked for one clinician.

One.

It showed. She was hopeless. She talked a lot about herself. I told her about you and how we were expecting a baby. She made a face. A face! She said babies were gross. I thought that was weird. Who doesn’t love babies?!

I flicked my eyes over the rest of the page. Toby had spelled out random conversations about life and clinic gossip. An extra note had been scrawled at the bottom of the page in a different-colored pen.

Actually, on this day, I was making myself a coffee in the break room.

Kayleigh asked me if I worked out. I was like, “Yeah, gotta keep it real for my wife, ya know?”

She looked at me for a long time, and then said something like, “You’ve got such nice muscles.”

And I’m pretty sure I said, “My wife asks me to lift stuff sometimes just to look at ’em.”

I snorted. I had asked Toby to lift and carry unnecessary things sometimes. In the old days…Before…

Toby’s hand was gentle on my thigh—just a quick touch to tell me he was still there. “Everything okay?”

“Tobes, this bit”—I pointed to the page—“where Kayleigh first comments about your muscles. You know she was hitting on you, right?”

“I donow.It didn’t even register back then.” His face fell, and he waved his hand. “Although… You should probably keep reading… It’s…” He grimaced.

I turned to the next page.

When I got to work after my run, Kayleigh was trying to get a box out of the trunk of her car. I was sweaty and gross, and I needed to shower, but I went to help anyway.

The box was heavy, and I joked, “What you got in here? Bricks?”

She stared at me for ages, and I thought it was because I was a bit stinky or she didn’t get my joke, but then she kinda licked her lips and said, “Wow. You’re good at lifting stuff.”

I felt kinda weird. Not good weird, like when you tell me I’ve got a cute butt. Creeped out. I took the box inside, but the next time Kayleigh asked me to help carry something, I made an excuse to get out of there.

Avoiding how uncomfortable it made me wasn’t the right thing to do. I should’ve told her to back off or go to Judy.

Conversations about makeup and fashion began to weave through the pages.Snooze.I snickered. That’s exactly what Toby had written, too.

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