Page 39 of Not Moving Out
There was a pause, a quietness, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Joe was going to cry. Joe didn’t really cry, wasn’t prone to moments of emotional fragility, but such a confession from his father had to have made him feel something. It was perhaps the first time I had heard Joe’s father call him son. He always referred to him as Joe like they were friends or, more likely, work colleagues. Then, after a minute, Joe spoke, his voice catching in his throat.
‘There’s something I have to tell you, too, Dad. It’s Freya and me, we’ve separated.’
‘Oh, right,’ said his dad. ‘Why? What happened? I always thought you two were great.’
It felt wrong to be listening in on their conversation, but I couldn’t exactly walk out in the middle of it now, could I?
‘We were, Dad, for so long we were, but the last year and a half, it’s been, I don’t know. I think with my career not going so well, it put a lot of pressure on us, and like you, I didn’t always handle things well or know what to say,’ said Joe, and it felt strange hearing him talk about us, and admitting his faults. There was a short pause, and then Joe said, ‘Actually, Dad, and no one else knows about this so please keep it quiet, but I’ve been seeing a therapist too for about the last six months.’
There was a sudden quietness in the room, but in my ears I heard a roar as blood rushed through my head, as my whole body was suddenly overtaken with emotion – and that emotion was fucking rage. Joe had been seeing a therapist! The man I had begged to see a marriage counsellor to save our marriage, who had declined and called it pointless, was seeing his own therapist in secret. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t control myself and I immediately walked out, crashing the door of the en suite against the wall, and I stormed into my bedroom. Joe instantly saw me, knew what I had heard, and saw the look on my face. He jumped up.
‘Freya, I—’
‘Just shut the fuck up!’ I said loudly, feeling tears begin to bubble up and into my eyes. ‘I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you lied to me about this, after I fucking begged you to see a therapist with me. I’m so angry with you, Joe.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Joe, but I couldn’t be in that room with him. I couldn’t stand to even be in the same fucking house as him, and so I dashed out with no idea what I was going to do next.
Chapter Nineteen
Joe
I couldn’t believe Freya had overheard my conversation with Dad, and now she knew I had been seeing a therapist. I had never seen her that angry before. It was clear I had really hurt her and whatever progress we had made over the past few months was all down the fucking drain. Every inch we had gained, every piece of momentum was all lost because of one careless fucking conversation. I felt sick to my stomach.
‘What happened?’ said Dad, looking shell-shocked.
‘She, umm, didn’t know I was seeing a therapist.’
‘Oh, and after she had wanted to see a marriage counsellor. Got it.’
‘Yeah, look, Dad, I need to go and see her, but, thanks for this.’
‘It’s okay. Now go. Sort this out before it’s too late, yeah?’
I took one last look at Dad, and then I left. I had been shocked by Dad’s admission about seeing a therapist and, fuck, I wished I hadn’t said anything, but how was I to know that Freya was hiding in the en suite overhearing every single word? My head was spinning, and as I walked quickly out of Freya’s bedroom, I almost bumped into Dolly walking out of her room.
‘What’s going on, Dad?’ said Dolly, and behind her I saw Maya in the background.
‘Umm, it’s nothing, love. Just stay up here, okay?’
‘It’s obviously not nothing, is it?’ said Dolly, a sullen teenage angst in her voice.
‘Your mother and I just had a disagreement, that’s all. It’s going to be fine.’
‘Mum promised it wouldn’t be weird.’
‘It’s not going to be weird. Please just stay in your room, and once it’s all sorted out, I’ll explain everything, okay?’ I said. Dolly obviously didn’t believe me because she just huffed, mumbled something under her breath about lying fucking parents, and then walked back into her room, slamming the door behind her. I hated her being so upset, but at that moment I just needed to find Freya and explain myself. I knew that this was critical because obviously what I had done would be difficult to forgive, but I had my reasons. I hadn’t told Freya about the panic attacks. I hadn’t explained how worried I was about my future, my career, our marriage, and how all of it had just been too much. I should have talked to her then, explained myself fully, asked for her help, but I hadn’t. Instead I had lied and now she knew all about it and it was all so much worse.
I hurried down the stairs and through the kitchen, popping my head around the living room door to see if she was in there. I walked outside and the garden was full of everyone having a good time. Stuart was still manning the barbecue, Taylor Swift was supplying the music, and when I scanned the garden it took me a moment but eventually I saw Freya in conversation with Lucy. I also noticed the sky had become quite a bit darker since I’d been inside, and it looked like rain wasn’t far away. That was the last thing we needed. I took a deep breath and walked towards Freya.
‘Do you have any more burgers, mate?’ said Stuart as I walked past. ‘They’re almost gone.’
‘Umm, yes, I think there’s one more pack in the fridge,’ I replied, but I could barely speak; all I could do was keep my eyes on Freya.
‘There he is,’ said Freya’s mum, who was drinking a cocktail next to Marmalade. ‘Can you please talk to Martin about the sausages because he’s driving me up the wall. I think he cares more about the bloody things than me!’
‘In a minute, I just need—’
‘I mean, bravo on the bangers!’ said Marmalade. ‘I was just wondering if you knew the meat content percentage off the top of your head—’
