‘You guys always used to have fun together and it was good to see. I feel bad not noticing something had changed. Not much of a friend, am I?’
Now I’ve made her feel guilty and that’s not what this is all about. Aiden has become lukewarm to every attempt I make to reach out to him. What’s frustrating is that I can’t even pinpoint when the change began to occur. That slip from spine-tingling excitement whenever we’re alone into a cosy, almost mundane, existence. I could weep.
Georgia picks up her mug and sips her coffee, mulling over my words. It’s agonising.
‘Steve and I don’t have time to even think about going through a plateau in our marriage, because of the kids. All we can think about is what sleep we can grab and quality time as a couple has become a distant memory. Our gift to each other is a lie-in.’ She grimaces.
I can see it’s an attempt to lighten the moment, albeit she’s speaking from the heart. But this is the last thing she expected me to blurt out and now I wish I hadn’t started the conversation.
‘This win, well, it seems to be polarising us, Georgia. I just want the old Aiden back.’
She stares at me, shaking her head sadly. ‘Now you’re worrying me, Fern. You’re in HR and you deal with people and their problems all the time. You are a good communicator and you know how to read the signs. If you can’t handle this, then maybe it’s time to think about talking to a marriage guidance counsellor.’
Before I can react to her suggestion, we hear the sound of the front door opening. Aiden’s voice calls out ‘Hello,’ which makes my stomach flutter, nervously.
Georgia and I exchange a resigned look.
‘I’d better go,’ she says, brightly. ‘I didn’t realise it was that time already. It’s my turn to cook tonight. My brood will be attacking the biscuit jar and wondering why there’s nothing in the oven.’ She places her hand on my arm, giving it a squeeze. ‘We’ll speak tomorrow,’ she whispers, and as Aiden enters the kitchen, she gives him a warm smile. ‘One in, one out. Catch you later, guys,’ and with that she disappears out through the back door.
Aiden approaches, stooping to place a fleeting kiss on my cheek and I can see he has something on his mind.
‘Hard day?’ I ask, hoping it will prompt him to talk about it.
‘Yep.’ With that, he turns to grab a mug and carries it across to place a coffee pod in the machine. The noise temporarily puts a halt to any conversation.
I busy myself grabbing a few things from the fridge and begin assembling a salad. Anything to fill the awkward silence that lies between us like an increasing chasm.
My back is towards Aiden, but I hear him pull out one of the dining chairs and the creak as he lowers himself onto the seat.
‘We’re getting good at avoiding tactics, aren’t we?’
His words make me spin around. There’s no edge to his voice just a ring of sadness.
‘I’m trying not to make it any worse than it is already,’ I admit. ‘Is that avoidance? I suppose it is, but I don’t know how else to handle whatever it is we’re going through right now.’
He nods his head in the direction of the seat opposite him. ‘Maybe it’s time to be honest with each other, Fern.’
His words hit me as forcefully as if I’ve just been slapped.
‘I thought… hoped… we always have been.’
He shakes his head. ‘I don’t know why I feel like something is missing from my life at the moment, and I know that’s not fair on you. It doesn’t make any sense whatsoever, but it’s affecting everything I do. Or try to do. Suddenly, when I wake up each morning it all feels rather predictable.’
He stares down at his mug, avoiding eye contact.
‘Predictable?’ Well, I didn’t see that coming. Isn’t it simply another word for boring?
‘Maybe the word I’m looking for is repetitive,’ he corrects himself, and I feel my shoulders sag in dismay.
‘Repetitive?’ I repeat, dully. ‘If this is about starting a family, then I know we keep putting it off, but it was always in the plan for when we hit our early thirties. If you want to bring that forward, you only have to say. Everything is flexible, Aiden, you know that. But we need to be sure we’re ready as it’s a huge commitment, darling.’
‘It’s not that. And I don’t think adding yet another pressure right now is a good idea, anyway.’ That sounds ominous, to say the least.
‘Look, I’m sorry – I was aware that something hasn’t been right between us for a while and I should have tackled it head-on. But whenever I approached the issue, you changed the subject and I assumed you weren’t ready to talk about it.’
He looks dejected, sitting there in a slump.
‘I thought we’d continue to be united by the things that life threw at us.’ His tone is now softer and I can see he’s making a concerted effort to verbalise his feelings. ‘Each step can sometimes feel like a hurdle, Fern, and we know that only too well. We’ve had some great highs and a couple of massive lows, admittedly, but we’ve always pulled through it together.’
He’s trying to reassure me because he wants this conversation to be over. Ducking and diving won’t help, Aiden – we need to get to the bottom of what’s wrong.
‘It’s not something we can continue to ignore, though, is it?’ I know it sounds challenging, but now we’re actually talking openly, there’s no turning back.
‘I can’t seem to find the right words to explain how I feel, so I’m not surprised you don’t understand. All I know is that I love you, I really do, and I’m gutted to think I’m upsetting you, babe.’
Eventually he looks up and what I see as our eyes meet is a look of desperation, then it softens.
‘Do you remember when we bumped into each other at the school dance and just like that,’ he clicks his fingers, ‘we knew something had changed? Something big was happening.’
I’m thinking that collided would be a more appropriate word. And it wasn’t just a dance, it was a full-blown prom. We were all excitable sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds. It was the first time we’d ever spoken because Aiden mixed with the sporty crowd and I was one of the geeks in those days.
I nod, not wanting to interrupt him.
‘I remember our first date, three days later, and you phoned me the following day to say that your dad said you couldn’t see me again. All because I’d brought you home an hour late and I’d blasted the car horn three times as I pulled away. Lights went on all around the quiet little cul-de-sac that night. But I was showing off because I wanted to impress you and I was wildly happy.’
Back then, I was looking forward to starting an A-level course at the progressive Amersley College in the autumn. Dad, a natural-born worrier, thought Aiden was rather cocky and overconfident, so it wasn’t the best start. But, as the years passed, he realised he had gained another son, a man he could trust to take care of his often stubborn daughter.
Aiden continues. ‘And you said, “But I don’t care, because nothing is going to stop me from seeing you,” and you meant it. That made me feel invincible. Nothing in life would ever throw me again because I’d found my soulmate. Two is stronger than one.’
My eyes fill with tears, because while Aiden is a thoughtful and rather romantic man, he doesn’t often choose to talk about his emotions. When he does, it’s always for a reason and a chill begins to creep up my spine, one vertebra at a time.
‘We were headstrong, weren’t we?’ I admit.
Everyone said it wouldn’t last because after A-levels we both hoped to be able to apply for a place at university. Even at that stage, it looked unlikely we would be heading off in the same direction, and everyone knows long-distance relationships don’t fare well, in general. But while the thought of being apart was terrifying, we never doubted each other for a second.
In hindsight, what were the chances of staying together through all of that – but we did. It turned out that absence really does make the heart grow fonder and each time we met up it was truly exhilarating
.
Aiden scans my face and I wonder what he sees.
‘Would you change anything?’ he levels at me. ‘You’ve overtaken me career-wise and I realise I held you back. You turned down a dream job offer in London without a second’s thought so we could buy this place and finally begin putting down roots. No wonder your dad took a while to forgive me and accept that you had settled for less than you deserved.’
He knows that isn’t strictly true. I needed to be close to my family at that time for lots of reasons and putting down roots here was the right thing to do. Is this upset about my recent promotion? I wonder. I hope this isn’t about who earns the most as that would be disappointing. If Aiden’s ego is that fragile, then I’m doing something very wrong. He means everything to me – more than money, more than a job title and he doesn’t know me at all if he thinks those things matter.
Aiden’s work role has evolved and he might not have a pile of diplomas to put on a wall, but he has a very marketable range of skills. Skills that come naturally to him because he inspires people to care. That’s why he’s perfect to motivate the whole team when it comes to fundraising. He’s indispensable, but I know he doesn’t perceive himself in that way and it saddens me that he undersells himself and his abilities.
I can’t avoid answering his question, but it’s hard not to sound cross. ‘No, of course I wouldn’t change a thing. Why would you even ask a question like that?’
Swiping away my tears, a strange mix of feelings stir within me. Is he trying to say I’m the one who has changed?
He sighs and it’s a gut-wrenching sound. ‘I don’t know how to explain this feeling of… what if?’
My stomach drops as I stare at him. ‘You’re regretting the last seven years – the choices we made?’
‘No!’ The word hurtles towards me at speed, like a bullet shattering the silence. He begins shaking his head emphatically, his hands now balled together in front of him, making a fist.
Aiden stares up at the ceiling and I have no words I can offer because I don’t understand what’s going on inside his head.
He was emotionally distraught when his grandma died a year ago. But this is different. This is something I have never seen in him before and it scares me.
I’m finally staring in the face of the fear that I have been carrying around with me for nearly six months now. And I don’t know what to do, or say.
Aiden leans forward in his seat, extending one hand across the table towards me. Instinctively I reach out and our fingers intertwine.
‘I love you, Fern. I always have, and I always will. But suddenly I don’t know who I am beneath the outer façade I show to the world… So many different things to different people and yet inside I’m feeling lost right now. I know I should just be grateful for the life we have and count my blessings. I tell myself that constantly but—’
But? The silence is painful while I wait, and our fingers slowly drift apart.
‘But it doesn’t seem to help me make sense of this feeling I have of… it not being enough. As if there’s something I’m supposed to do, something that will make a difference, and yet I don’t know what.’
‘Something better than us? I had no idea you felt this way, Aiden – why didn’t you say something before now?’
He looks shocked to hear the anger in my voice.
‘Fern, I’m just trying to explain something that I’m not sure even I can fully comprehend. This isn’t about having regrets and I’m sorry if that’s the way it’s coming across. You’ve come into your own and you’re blossoming, and I love that. You aren’t just a beautiful, intelligent and caring wife, daughter and sister, you can achieve anything you want. You deserve to have someone alongside you who is equally as strong and focused, but suddenly I’m second-guessing everything I do. It makes me feel weak, as if I’m a fraud and I’m taking the easy way out.’
‘I feel as if you’re punishing me for something, when all I’ve ever done is put you – us – first. Whatever I do, I’m going to give it one hundred and ten per cent because that’s who I am. You know that, Aiden. I’m not competing with you, or trying to prove anything. I just want us to be happy.’
Pushing back on my chair and rising to my feet, disappointment begins to turn into resentment. This isn’t the man I married at all.
Aiden leaps out of his seat to stop me from leaving.
‘Ever since Grandma died, I’ve felt as if life is a ticking clock. Every single day that passes is a day I should be moving forward, but I feel stuck. Drained. Invisible even to myself, as if I’m some sort of automaton going through the motions instead of living in the moment.’
‘And you couldn’t open up to me, your wife? So instead you kept quiet and let it come between us like a growing chasm that gets bigger with each passing day?’ His face begins to swim in front of me as tears fill my eyes.
‘Don’t go, babe, please don’t turn your back on me.’ His arms around me are comforting and the warmth of his body is reassuring. ‘I will sort myself out, I promise,’ he whispers into my ear. For one moment, the old, self-assured Aiden is back and it’s a relief to know that maybe, just maybe, all is not yet lost.
‘I think we both need to do some thinking about where we go from here. I’m struggling because I feel you’re pushing me away. It hurts, but I can see that you’re as confused about this as I am. That’s a good thing, though, isn’t it?’ My words make him hug me even closer and if I ever doubted his love, his body language is firmly denying that.
‘It means I know I’d be lost without you. But maybe to find myself I need to discover who I am outside of our relationship.’
And there is it – the change that little inner voice was warning me was imminent.
The bottom suddenly drops out of my world. He isn’t depressed, as I was beginning to fear was the case. No, Aiden feels the life he has is constraining him – he feels trapped! The excitement of the unknown versus the comfort of a relationship spanning thirteen years. The life I knew – we knew – is already a thing of the past. And there’s nothing I can do to change that now.
Old words come back to haunt me. My father once said, ‘You need to discover who you are as individuals, Fern, before you can take those strengths forward into a relationship. Know yourself first and everything else will fall into place.’
Having three siblings, I knew myself all right. Ours was a noisy house, but we were happy in between the usual squabbles and petty upsets of family life. I was the sensible one, always enlisted to help out and take control of my brother and sisters. Mum said I was a born negotiator and she’d laugh whenever I waded in to break up an argument over who was going to sit on the big chair in front of the TV.
As I grew into my teens, though, surprisingly – as the second eldest – I became the one pushing the boundaries and driving my parents mad. I was so resolute in the belief that I knew best, I often refused to listen to advice. But with their hands full, there were times when Dad would ground me and the cooling-off period often did me good. It helped me to put things into perspective and I needed that.
Aiden, on the other hand, being an only child, was the sole focus for his parents. Did that intensity mean he felt his role was always to please and never to disappoint? Perhaps now he’s approaching thirty, he’s beginning to rebel at that feeling of having to please everyone around him. And that, it seems, includes me.
That little voice inside my head continues the conversation – words I simply can’t express out loud. I don’t want you to please me, Aiden, I simply want to make you happy; that’s what I thought I was doing as we build our future together. Well, I guess I failed the one time it really mattered. A half-sob rises up within me. How can I forgive myself for letting you down so badly, my darling?
3
The Party
‘About last night. I didn’t mean to—’
Sitting across the breakfast table from me, Aiden’s look is apologetic and tinged with guilt.
It took me hours to
drift off and I awoke, suddenly, a couple of hours later. As I lay there impatiently waiting for dawn to break, I instinctively knew he, too, was wide awake. With our backs to each other, I’d never felt more alone in my entire life.
‘Hey, if we can’t be honest with each other, then something is very wrong. I can’t pretend that what you said didn’t come as a bit of a shock,’ I point out, ‘but I’m glad you had the courage to tackle it.’
‘And you aren’t disappointed in me?’ Aiden is making no attempt at all to eat his breakfast and the cornflakes are now lying in the bowl in front of him, soggy and unappealing.
I shake my head, scared to utter the word ‘no’ out loud, fearing it will lack conviction.
‘So, how do we play this? You want some thinking time, but I’m not sure exactly what you have in mind.’ He’d said ‘outside of our relationship’ last night, so I’m guessing he wasn’t envisaging a three-week holiday for two somewhere exotic.
‘I want to widen my horizon and experience things up close that I’ve only been able to dream about, so far. The world is a big place and seeing how other people live will put our lives here into some sort of context, for me.’
I’ve struggled to make things as easy as possible, knowing that Aiden has been stressed. Is he flinging that back at me as if it was the wrong thing to do?
It’s an effort not to let out a frustrated sigh. ‘What exactly are you proposing?’
Aiden doesn’t bat an eyelid as he responds. ‘A year apart, doing our own thing. I’ll get that travelling bug out of my system, as I know it unsettles you thinking you’re holding me back. And you can take some time to nurture the inner you, Fern. You deserve it.’
Words fail me and I stare at Aiden, trying to hide the angry knot forming in my stomach. He’s turning this on its head; he’s the one causing the chaos in our lives, not me. Or is he simply looking for reassurance and a little time to sort himself out – without which I’ll end up losing him?
Summer in Provence Page 2
