Destroy Me by Karen Cole (read people like a book TXT) 📗

to the park to hunt for the Gruffalo before you organised that playdate,’ he says. ‘We could still go. You could come too, if you want.’

‘I don’t think that’s such a good idea, do you?’

‘Why not? Just think how happy it would make Dylan for us to spend the day together as a family.’

We’re not a family any more, I think. Because you destroyed it. You destroyed it the moment you jumped into bed with Harper. But he’s played the Dylan card and I know he’s right. It would make Dylan happy – and if Dylan’s happy, I’m happy.

So that’s how I find myself in the car, driving Theo and Dylan to the park. On our way, we stop at the house to pick up Delilah and spend the next few hours tramping around the park, sploshing through muddy puddles, making dens and throwing sticks for Delilah. Delilah, delighted to finally be out of the house, dances around crazily, like a puppy, and Dylan careers after her, chuckling like a loon. There’s something soothing and healing about being outdoors and close to nature, and slowly, I feel myself shedding some of the stress and anxiety of the week. For whole minutes at a time, I forget about Charlie and the police investigation and it almost feels like we’re a normal, happy family on a day out.

It’s getting late by the time we get back and Theo persuades me to stay to dinner and put Dylan to bed.

‘Stay. Have a drink,’ Theo says, after Dylan has nodded off to The Gruffalo’s Child. He’s sitting on the armchair, his arm splayed expansively over the back and he’s opened a bottle of Californian red and has already started drinking.

‘No thanks. I can’t. I’ve got to drive,’ I say primly.

‘You can stay the night here. Why not? You can sleep on the sofa bed.’

‘Well, I—’

He senses me weakening. ‘Go on, Cat. I’d have thought you need a drink or two after the week you’ve had. Besides, I worry about you all alone in that house. For all we know, there’s some psychotic killer on the loose. I’d feel much better if you were safe here with me.

I know that I should keep my dignity intact and refuse, but I’m tired and scared and the thought of a drink to blunt the edges is very enticing. I don’t want to be alone any more. I want a respite from the constant fear that’s been dogging me lately.

‘Why not?’ I sink wearily into the sofa and accept the glass of wine he pours for me.

‘Do you remember we drank this on the first date we ever had?’ he says, draining his glass and pouring himself another.

‘How could I forget when you knocked the bottle over on my white skirt?’

He chuckles. ‘Yeah, I was so nervous. I was trying so hard to impress you.’

‘Really? You didn’t seem nervous.’ Theo never seems nervous to me. It is one of the things that attracted me to him – his lazy, unflappable humour, the way nothing seems to faze him. (The first time I met him I interviewed him for the local paper because a huge pet python had escaped from someone’s house and had turned up in his garden. I remember he recounted the whole episode as if it was no big deal, as if these kinds of things happened to him all the time.)

There’s a short silence. I suppose you could call it companionable. I certainly feel no pressure to talk. I just slump back in the chair, sipping wine, waiting for the numbness to kick in.

‘So, this Luke—’ Theo says, at last, topping up my glass.

‘What about him?’

‘Is there anything between you?’

I snort at the stupidity of the question. ‘Obviously not. He’s married and he’s got me into trouble by lying to the police. Not exactly boyfriend material, I think you’ll agree.’

He gazes at me with serious brown eyes. ‘I can’t help feeling jealous when I think of you with him,’ he says.

I swallow a tight ball of anger. ‘Well, you have absolutely no right to be.’

‘I know I don’t. But I can’t help the way I feel. Sorry.’

I don’t answer. I just go to the kitchen and open another bottle of wine.

Theo sighs as I return to the living room. ‘I suppose, at least it means you’ve got an alibi. Do you think the police will leave you alone after he talks to them?’

‘I don’t know. I hope so. They took my DNA too.’

I slump back in my chair, fighting back tears. Suddenly, I am overwhelmed by it all. By the constant fear and paranoia that have been stalking me for days.

‘Everything’s just completely fucked up.’ I give a shuddering sigh. And to my mortification I start crying.

Theo shuffles around beside me and puts his arm around my shoulders. He has that helpless, confused look he always gets when people are upset. Emotions are not Theo’s thing. Give him a mathematical puzzle or a practical problem to solve and he’s your man. Upset ex-wives? Not so much. It’s strangely endearing.

He rubs his thumb on my shoulder and then gently wipes away the tears from my cheeks. ‘It’s going to be okay, you know,’ he says.

‘I hope so,’ I say, looking up into his eyes. Then, next thing I know we’re kissing. Theo’s lips are soft and familiar. It feels sweet and safe being in his arms, and I feel the hard shard of ice inside me crack just a little.

‘I’ve missed that,’ he says softly, breaking off and cupping my cheek with his hand.

There’s a part of me that still loves him, I realise, as I look into his warm brown eyes. If I’m honest, I have never stopped loving him. Why should I fight it? It feels right. But then I’m brought up short when I glance over his shoulder and notice the photo on the mantelpiece – Theo, Harper and Dylan at the zoo, sitting on the wall by the penguin enclosure – and I swipe his hand