Page 135 of The Last Love Song
He walked through the quiet house and found his wife sunning herself on the terrace at the back. She turned when she heard him and stood up.
‘Con, I didn’t hear you.’ She walked over and put an arm around his shoulders, then kissed him.
‘How are you? Freddy says you were very rough.’
‘I was, but I feel so much better seeing you.’
‘Me too, Sorcha-porcha.’
There was an awkward distance between the pair. Neither knew exactly what to say, until they both talked at once.
‘Would you like a drink?’
‘Think I’ll have a shower.’
‘Why don’t you go upstairs and take a shower and I’ll bring you a drink?’ she suggested.
‘Sounds like a grand idea.’ Con nodded and headed for the stairs.
‘You could have rung, Con.’
‘Yeah, sorry.’ He swept a hand through his hair and shrugged. ‘Things were a bit hectic.’
He continued climbing the stairs. Sorcha stood and watched him disappear, a lump coming to her throat.
Come on, come on, you have to try, otherwise things will never improve.
She went into the kitchen to make herself some tea and get Con a beer.
When she went upstairs, the bathroom was empty but still steaming from Con’s recent shower. She found him lying naked on their bed, smoking a cigarette.
‘I brought you a beer, cool from the fridge.’
‘Thanks.’
She sat down on the bed and handed him the beer, which he rested on his flat stomach. A shiver of wanting ran through her. It had been over a month since they’d made love.
‘We need to talk.’
Con, suddenly drained from the hectic schedule of the last week, sighed heavily. ‘I know.’ He pulled himself into a sitting position and took a swig of beer. ‘What would you like to talk about?’
‘Us.’
Con nodded. ‘Go on.’
‘Well, for starters, there’s been an awful tension around us for weeks now. We don’t seem to communicate any more. You’re always out at rehearsals or on some cause with Lulu. And when youarehome, we never seem to talk. You knew how sick I was and you didn’t even bother to call me while you were in New York. I’m starting to wonder...’
‘What?’ Con looked at her wearily.
‘Whether you love me any more.’
He sighed and closed his eyes. ‘Oh, God. You’re right, Sorcha. I’ve been getting things very wrong.’ He put his beer down on the side table and opened his arms. ‘Would you come here?’
Sorcha climbed into his embrace.
‘I missed you,’ Con whispered. ‘I’m sorry for putting everything else before you. That’s all going to change.’
‘You’ve been so cold, so distant. It’s been like living with a stranger. Not the old Con who was funny and relaxed and never let things get on top of him.’
