This morning, I woke in the same bed I've woken up in almost every day for the last ten years. The sheets still smelled faintly of my husband's aftershave and the pillow was still uncomfortably bitty. My unknowing partner lying snoring next to me, face down.
Last night, at around 11pm, I left the house, purely on the persuasion of a rather vague text message from James. Said, "Am at the hotel. Have a credit card and a bottle of wine." James hasn't contacted me for a few weeks, and last week send me a message saying he thought it was best that we 'slow things down'. I am not naiive, I know what that means. I certainly wasn't expecting this.
So there I am, half-dressed for work, standing in the foyer of our local TravelLodge. He comes up from behind and puts his hands over my eyes, then spins me around to face him. When I originally met him a few months back, he seemed weather-beaten and tired, but all the fine lines on his face have smoothed out and I can just see these large grey eyes. He pulls out a bunch of roses from behind his back, and apologises prefusely for his behavior. "We feel like teenagers. It doesn't mean we have to act with the same lack of consideration".
We spent the next 5 (!) hours upstairs. Drinking, cuddling. A little more than cuddling, but who am I to kiss and tell? Especially on the internet of all places. Things are reconcilled for now. He explained that things have been very difficult at home recently, but rather than hiding them from me and making excuses, he has decided to be completely honest. After all, when you're having an affair, any other lies just seem like too much work.
I creeped back home and got in around 4am. Hubby was fast asleep, splayed out across the bed as if trying to cover as much duvet as possible. I rolled him like a pancake, and slid under the covers.
It is back on!