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He tips a large splash of Jameson into his glass and sips it. “Are you feeling better now?”
“A bit. Sorry about the…” I gesture at my face. “You know.”
“You look beautiful,” he says. “With or without makeup.”
I blush and poke him with my toe. He just smiles.
We sip our drinks, and gradually I feel the tension fade from my spine. I put down my drink, lift my sari, and take off my sandals. Then I slide down on the sofa a bit and stretch out my legs, curling my toes over the edge of the coffee table. Henry watches me, but he doesn’t say anything.
“You put the TV on if you want,” I tell him. “Or some music.”
“I don’t mind the quiet,” he replies.
Opposite us, he’s opened the doors onto the balcony. I can hear people in the distance, outside one of the bars by the river, talking and laughing. The sound of ducks quacking and oars splashing in the water also rises to my ears.
I guess some people would find the silence uncomfortable, but I don’t, and I don’t think he does, either. He’s very restful to be with. He stretches out his long legs, resting his glass on the arm of the sofa, and we look out at the setting sun, watching the light slowly fade.
We sit there, sipping our drinks, and my thoughts gradually settle, like silt that’s been stirred up at the bottom of a stream. Eventually, though, I feel guilty for not talking, and wonder whether he’s bored.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the bar?” I ask.
“Nah. Everyone will have gone by now anyway.”
“Do you think James and Aroha left together?”
“Maybe.”
I wrinkle my nose at him. “You never gossip.”
“It’s their business. I don’t want anyone speculating about what I’m up to, so I don’t speculate about them.”
“Fair enough.” I rest my head on a hand. “You’re a very private person, aren’t you?”
“You think?”
“I do. I didn’t even know you were having trouble with Shaz until you’d been apart over a year.”
He drops his gaze to his drink and has a mouthful of whisky.
“You don’t have to talk about it now,” I say awkwardly.
“I don’t mind. You know what relationships are like. They rarely break overnight. Maybe they do if someone’s having an affair or something, but mostly it’s an erosion, like the sea eating away at the coastline.”
I nod. “I know what you mean.” It’s the same with me and Cam—a slow, steady, painful breakdown.
I study Henry’s face, which I know so well—his wide nose, generous mouth, and dark blue eyes. “Was the main reason you broke up because you can’t have children?”
He swirls the whisky over the ice in his glass. “It was a symptom, not the cause. There were other factors.”
I wait for him to elaborate. He doesn’t. He sips the whisky, watching me over the rim of the glass.
I said he didn’t have to talk about it, but he replied that he didn’t mind, so I give in to my curiosity and continue. “You lived together for a while after you separated, didn’t you?”
“It was a big house. She moved into the other wing, and the courts took the day she moved as the start of the two-year separation. We did try and rekindle it a couple of times, just because we were both so sad it had ended, I guess. But eventually she told me she’d met someone else, and she moved out a few days later.”
“I’m so sorry she’s pregnant now,” I say. “I mean… well, you know what I mean. Not sorry for her, but sorry for you.”
He sighs. “Ah, I’m pleased for her. They’re getting married in a few weeks. She’s happy now.”
