Page 30 of One Day at a Time

‘Nope.’

Orla rested her mug on the bump that was still small but growing by the day. ‘Then I’ll stick with fairly shite and wishing that men came with an insurance policy too. Full pay out if he’s a lying arse.’

It was a lame attempt at a half-hearted joke, but it didn’t make Orla feel any better.

Fecking Demi. Actually, cancel that. None of this was the mysterious Demi’s fault. It was all fecking Kyle. Every single stabbing, heartbreaking, breathtaking pain of it, from the second that the girl from next door had said, ‘Yes, of course we know each other. He’s our workmate’s boyfriend. Is Demi here with you, Kyle?’

No, Demi had definitely not been there with him. Now Orla knew many more details. That Demi worked with these women in a bar a few streets away in the West End. That Kyle had been hanging out there. That he’d been seeing this ‘Demi’ for about six months, and that Demi was completely oblivious to the fact that he was married and kept his ring in the glove compartment of his van when he was with her. That he sometimes stayed over at her flat when Orla was on night shift. And that he hadn’t actually done a stroke of overtime in the last six months. Oh, and those alarm calls to go and check the office? The official term, she’d learned, was ‘booty call’, and the only alarms in the equations were the ones that should have been going off in her head.

But back then, in that moment on their front path, he’d just turned to her and very calmly said, ‘Let’s go inside. We need to talk.’

She had no idea how she’d found the strength to put one foot in front of the other because her legs were shaking so hard, but somehow, she’d made it to the kitchen table.

‘Don’t even think about lying to me, Kyle. If you care about me at all, don’t do it. I’m not going to say another word until you’ve told me everything.’ Strangely, especially given her uncharacteristic weepiness over the previous few months, she’d had absolutely no urge to cry.

He’d sat back, and his whole body had deflated, as if his guilthad just sucked the air out of him. ‘It’s nothing, Orla. It’s just a… I don’t know what it is. I think I lost my mind. I met her one night when I was out with the boys and you were on night shift. It was stupid. I was drunk. But then… To be honest, I think my ego took charge and I just lapped up the attention and the fun of it all. There was no pressure. She didn’t want to talk about fricking ovulations and all the other stuff that we’ve been dealing with for two years now.’

That piece of information had slammed into her chest like a wrecking ball. ‘Don’t you dare blame me…’ she’d begun, breaking her vow not to speak. But even as she’d said it, she’d known there was a grain of truth in there.

‘No, no, I’m not blaming you. I’m really not. It was my fault. Every bit of it. It was my way of dealing with the disappointment every month too. And I know that makes me sound like a pathetic prick…’

She hadn’t argued.

‘But I think I just lost myself for a minute. I’m so sorry, Orla. So fucking sorry. I ended it as soon as we found out you were pregnant because this…’ He’d reached over for her hand, but she’d snatched it back as if she’d been bitten, so he’d just pointed to each of them in turn. ‘This… you and me and our baby, that’s what’s important.’

That night, they’d talked for hours, and he’d begged her to stay with him, to give him another chance, swore that he truly was the man she had married. She’d asked him to leave and he’d gone to his brother’s house so that she could have time to think. She wasn’t scheduled to work for the next two days, and her mum had been out of reach, but she’d been glad of both those things because she couldn’t face telling anyone what he’d done. Instead, her heart shattered and her soul defeated, she’d ignored his calls and spent the time working through heroptions in her mind. What could she do? Go back to Ireland and live in her mum’s empty house? Stay here and kick him out and go through this pregnancy alone? Explain to her child that Daddy didn’t live with them because of one mistake before it was born?

No. After sleepless nights and a million tears, she’d decided that she was going to find a way to deal with this. There would be no forgetting, and forgiveness was going to take a while, but she’d believed him when he’d told her how much he wanted this life with her and the baby. She’d felt his conviction when he’d promised he’d do anything to have the family they’d hoped for since the day they’d said their vows. For better and worse. Well, bugger, this was worse. But she’d held on to the hope that finally starting their family would make it so much better.

When she’d eventually relayed all of it to Yvie, Keli and Emmy, the day after she’d allowed him to come home, they’d rallied like an infidelity SWAT team, offered to slash his tyres, and then made it their mission to support her in every way that they could. After-shift cuppas like this one, while Kyle was at work, had become a regular event, as had dinners out, girls-night gatherings at their houses, and Keli had even offered her spare room if Orla wanted to move out for a week, a month, or forever. She’d declined, but she’d been beyond grateful for their support.

Now, a few weeks and what felt like a lifetime later, she was trying to find the peace to move forward. The problem was, much as she’d decided all this in her head, she couldn’t make her emotions play ball. Or her heart. It was still bubble wrapped in sadness and pain and even the joy of their baby couldn’t peel that layer away. All she could do was enjoy the distraction of having tea with a pal who was happy to listen to her on good days and bad ones.

‘What time is your mum arriving?’ Yvie asked her, lookingmore relaxed now that she’d taken a few sips of tea and the mug was no longer a spill risk.

‘In about half an hour. She landed five minutes ago, but she insisted on getting a taxi in case I got held up at work.’

‘And how are you feeling about telling her?’

Orla had plucked up the strength to tell her friends about Kyle’s affair, but she still hadn’t shared it with her mum. There were lots of reasons for that. She hadn’t wanted to worry her. She’d been sure Nula would come racing back from whatever crisis she was helping with, and Orla hadn’t felt ready for that. And maybe, she wasn’t ready for her mum to judge Kyle either. The two of them were the only family she had, and she hated the thought of their relationship being fractured.

‘Dreading it with every fibre of my being. I thought about not telling her, but she’ll know the minute she sees my face. I’ve always been a rubbish liar.’

Orla wasn’t sure if Yvie also immediately heard a voice in her head saying ‘Unlike Kyle,’ after that sentence.

‘You know this is his shame, not yours, Orla.’

Ouch. Orla felt that one right in the heart. ‘You’re right, but maybe I just don’t want to hear my mum saying the things that I’m thinking. You know, she’s a big believer in everything happening for a reason too. It’s probably why I think the same way.’

‘That makes sense. But what do you think the reason for all this is then?’

Orla shook her head. ‘That’s the problem. I still don’t understand it. You know I’ve always believed that all the crazy coincidences that have happened in my life are actually sign posts to where I’m supposed to go. I mean, what were the chances of the next-door neighbour’s girlfriend being there that day? Meeting Kyle? Knowing about his affair and blowing his secret? Did thathappen to give us a clean slate and let us start over with no secrets? Or was the purpose of it to show me who he really is and warn me about him? I just don’t know the answer to that.’

Yvie shrugged. ‘Me either, hon. But until we all figure it out, the offer to slash his tyres still stands.’

‘I’ll remember that.’ Despite the lingering heartbreak of the situation, Orla couldn’t help but smile.

‘Anyway, I’d better get off home. I’m knackered and I can never get to sleep when I come off night shift.’