Chapter one

It's 6pm, Rob will be home any minute. I've lit candles and cooked his favourite dinner, steak and chips, which is in the oven waiting for his imminent arrival. 

I've showered, shaved my legs and slipped on a pretty dress and am dancing around the kitchen to the radio, making sure nothing burns while I listen out for his car in the driveway. 

I used to get irritated with his insistence that we have sex every other Friday night, as though it took the spontaneity and romance out of it all, but, after eleven years and increasingly busy work schedules, it actually helps to make sure we make time for one another. Sure I miss the rip your clothes off in the hallway passion I had with my first love, Thomas, but we were teenagers, you can't expect that at thirty-three years old, not when you've seen each other crapping and knackered after a long week at work, can you? 

Can you?

Tyres crunch in the driveway, so I bring the plates to the table and pour us both a glass of wine. He sighs and I hear a clunk as he drops his briefcase in the hallway.

"Hey, dinner's ready." I call cheerfully, he doesn't respond but tired heavy footsteps come closer so I sit down in my chair and wait. 

After a few minutes he comes in and sits down silently, his jet black hair, normally combed to perfection, is ruffled, as though he's run his hands through it numerous times and his blue eyes droop down, hidden behind his glasses the way he does when he's keeping something a secret. There's been a lot of hints dropped about moving onto the next stage of our relationship, he even asked where I would hypothetically like to go on our honeymoon, so why doesn't the idea of him proposing fill me with joy and excitement?

"This looks nice." He says, giving me a tired smile which I mimic. "I'm looking forward to later."

"Me too." I reply, conscious of the simple but boring back and forth. Despite the length of time we've been together, there's still part of me that would love it if he just grabbed me and devoured me in the kitchen. 

Once, about a year into our relationship, I thought I'd try to spice things up a bit, even went out and bought some sexy lingerie beforehand, then, while we were watching a film together, I tried to initiate something spur of the moment on the sofa. The massive rejection and subsequent lecture on propriety meant I binned the lingerie that night and even thinking about that night still makes my cheeks burn with shame years later. 

But we moved on peacefully, he's a stickler for routine and it's comfortable. I know what to expect with him, even if I can predict the days of the week based on which underpants he pulls from his drawer. Like my mum says, I'd be complaining if he was constantly hot and cold, this is the better option, absolutely. I'm lucky to have a stable guy to share my life with.

"Becky, are you listening?" He interrupts my reflection, irritated that I clearly wasn't listening to him and continuing to complain about what Kayleigh from his office did wrong on some case they're working on together.

We continue chatting throughout dinner but he's distracted and I'm becoming less convinced that this is about our future and perhaps more about his work, he often gets like this if he has a particularly complex or traumatic case on at work. He's a solicitor, specialising in family law, and although he can't tell me specifics, I've seen some of the information in the news about cases he's worked on, and on those days I'm glad I chose accountancy over law. 

As the night goes on and we get close to finishing our bottle of wine, he relaxes considerably and we move to the bedroom. I watch as he takes each item of clothing off and puts it away, his work shoes perfectly aligned on the second shelf, his tie hung on the rail, exactly half a centimetre apart from those either side, before placing his shirt and underpants in the wash basket. He then climbs into his side of the bed and turns his lamp off, pulling the quilt up to his waist and waiting for me to climb in beside him.

I roll my stockings down, one leg at a time in the vain hope it may bring about an unexpected rush of arousal and he might suddenly jump out of bed and take me in his arms, but with a glance in his direction I realise he's not even looking at me, so I toss them into the open drawer and raise the dress over my head.

I'm not unattractive. I think to myself as I catch a glimpse of my naked form in the mirror. I'm curvaceous without being overweight, my chestnut hair is long enough to fall just over my nipples and my green eyes are still bright. I had quite a bit of attention from men back in my teens and early twenties and I'm sure I've not changed that much. It's just his way, if he was impulsive or insatiable you'd be complaining too.

I slide under the covers and he turns towards me, his hand on the back of my head as he kisses me, more perfunctory than passionately, but at least there's one part of him that is unquestionably interested. I lie back and allow him to move between my legs, waiting for the expected groan as he enters me. He thrusts away and I close my eyes, fantasizing that Chris Hemsworth, dressed in his Thor outfit, is kissing my neck and parting my legs, his hand raising the skirt of my ballgown higher and higher…

"Urgh nnnnnn…" Rob's finishing sound rudely interrupts my fantasy and with a quick kiss he rolls off of me, breathing heavily. He looks at me, realisation washes over his face and he looks a little frustrated, as though my inability to orgasm in the few minutes he was inside me has ruined the evening. "Sorry, do you want me to stay inside you so you can…'

"No, it's fine, uh… it's gone now, it's fine honestly." I'll sort myself out properly later once you've gone to sleep. I don't add.

"So, I've been thinking…" He sits up and looks at me sheepishly. My heart stops as I realise he's going to do it now, he's going to propose, this is a moment I'll remember for the rest of my life. If I'm being honest, I had hoped he'd make an effort with it and do something romantic, rather than after a less than successful intimate moment, but that's a fantasy I shouldn't have entertained knowing how he is.

"Ok?" 

"Well… so… I'm not quite sure how to ask you this…" He's playing with his hands, rubbing them over and over nervously, so I put my hand on his to stop him and he looks me in the eyes. "I wondered if you would agree, no, um… what I mean is, how would you feel if we…"

"Yes?"

"Well, if we had a break." 

"Yes." It takes a second for his words to sink in, and suddenly my stomach feels heavy and hollow. "Wait, what?"

"Look, I know it's quite unexpected, but it's not so unfathomable really, is it?" The words aren't sinking in, I stare at him blankly as his mouth moves. He puts a hand out to me and I flinch. "Becky, come on, please answer me."

"What?"

"I uh… well, there's this girl at work, Alana, she and I, well, we were working late a week or so ago and stuff just happened. I think it was a mistake, but it was so spontaneous, something we've never had and I'm just confused about what I want now." 

"What?" I say again dumbly.

How can he have messed around with someone at work? He won't even have sex with me out of bed?

"Ok, look, I know it's a shock, first thing tomorrow I'm going to move in with Sam, give us some space to work out if we are what we really want, ok. Now, let's get some sleep, it's been a long day for both of us." He leans across me to turn my light off, attempts to kiss my cheek again as he moves back, sighing in disappointment at me when I pull away. "I really thought you'd be a grown up about this Rebecca, perhaps I gave you too much credit."

"Get out." I growl, the shock fading to a simmering anger which is threatening to blow up any minute.

"Pardon?" 

"Get out of my house." I say each word slowly and clearly, trying desperately to hold myself together.

"Becky." The patronising way he says my name is the final straw and my temper gives.

"Get the fuck out, Rob. Now." I shriek the words at him and point to the door. 

He actually has the gall to look surprised and alarmed by my outburst, but he gets out of bed and hurriedly puts on some clothes, looking back at me once, just briefly, before disappearing out of the door. I throw his shoes after him, they hit the wall and fall to the floor, but he doesn't come back for them.

I sit there in my bed, staring at the shoes on the floor, unsure what to do. How did this even happen anyway?

Picking up my mobile, I call Jacqui, my best friend since University and after a quick summary she tells me she'll be here asap. I pull on my pyjamas but I can still smell him on me, so, throwing them in the wash, I jump in the shower, turn the heat up and scrub until my skin is pink and sore. 

Sliding on a comfy t-shirt and jogging bottoms, I strip the sheets from the bed and dump them in the wash basket too, remaking it with fresh clean ones from the drawer.

Jacqui is already downstairs when I get there, sitting on the sofa with various alcohol, chocolate bars and ice cream with only spoons, no bowls, set out on the table. 

"Bex, what happened?" She asks, wrapping her arms around me and guiding me to sit down. She pours me a large vodka as I tell her what happened this evening. "What an absolute fucker. Of course he waited until he'd cum too."

"The worst part is, I actually thought he was about to propose." I break off a lump of chocolate and pop it in my mouth, the vodka has made me feel a little fuzzy and I know I'm slurring my words. "I was thinking, like really, you're going to propose like this? But nope, he was basically dumping me, like I mean nothing, the past eleven years meant nothing. It was just a hump and dump. And yes, he's been with someone else. It's so cliché, he's cheated on me with some girl with work, I mean who does that, at our age?"

"Wanker." Jacqui spits out. 

"Exactly." 

"What's her name?" Jacqui pulls her phone and brings up Rob's F******k account.

"I dunno, wait, hang on, Alana. He said Alana." I plaster my face to her shoulder, watching as she looks for the girl that Rob has been shagging.

"Alana Crowland, is this you?" She clicks on her profile and I feel sick, the girl only graduated last year, which makes her what, twenty-two, twenty-three? 

"She's a child." I gasp, looking at the smooth, firm skinned beauty pulling the duck face in the profile picture. "She was still in school when he started working there. And she's so pretty, what the hell is she interested in a boring old man like Rob for?"

"You're prettier." Jacqui says and despite knowing she's lying, I smile gratefully at her, she suddenly clicks in a picture of the two of them standing side by side in a group photo labelled 'The Team'. Rob has his hand around her waist, holding her a little too close to him as they smile at the camera. Jacqui scowls, tutting and closing the profile down. "It actually looks like a bring your daughter to work picture. Creepy, pervy bastard, I think you've had a lucky escape to be fair, this should be a celebration."

"Yeah." I sigh, looking around the room and noticing how dull it is in there. 

Rob prefers simple, bland decorations, so the walls are all magnolia and the sofa is plain grey, even the curtains are cream and I hate it.

"We need to redecorate." I announce, wobbling to stand up and holding the wall when I go to the cupboard to find my old art supplies. Since I haven't painted anything in maybe four or five years, it's right at the bottom, in a box that I drag out, and empty onto the living room floor.

The largest pots are yellow, purple, green and red, so I shove two towards Jacqui and start prising open the other two for myself.

"There she is." Jacqui giggles, painting large purple circles on one wall. "You used to be so spontaneous, I'm so excited to have you back."

"I'm back, baby." I cackle, painting each colour down my palm and creating rainbow handprints over the wall. It looks awful, I know it looks awful, but there's something cathartic about creating a chaos of colours.

We keep drinking and painting, moving through the house until we run out of paint and my house resembles the set of Fun house.

"I love it." I announce, flopping onto my bed with the last of my drink sloshing dangerously in the glass.

"Would you have said yes?" Jacqui asks, sitting down on the edge.

"I did." I groan, rolling into the foetal position as my mind flashes back to the situation. "Before I realised he wasn't actually asking me to marry him, I said yes."

"Fucking bastard."

"Yep."

"Stupid fucking asshole." She drinks from her glass, looking at the haphazard job we made of decorating the house. "We'll pick out proper colours and fix this tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yep." I grin, settling back onto my pillow. "You can sleep here if you want."

"I intend to, fuck you Rob." She shouts at the ceiling, her glass now empty. "You're totally amazing, if he can't see that well, just fuck him."

"I'd rather not." I giggle childishly all of a sudden, I blame the amount of alcohol in my system, but Jacqui looks at me quizzically. I wiggle my finger to bring her in close and lower my voice as though someone might hear us. "Ok, I never told you this before ok, and you absolutely must promise never ever, ever, to repeat it, not ever."

"Ok?"

"Promise?"

"Promise." We're both slightly drunk and she rolls towards me, crossing her hand across her heart like a child, then giggles as she falls back onto her pillow. "There's a very good chance I won't remember much of tonight anyway."

"Ok, ok, ok, ok." I repeat myself over and over, working up the nerve to say what I plan to, to push away the feeling of disloyalty rising in my stomach at the admission I'm about to make. "He's bad in bed, I mean really bad, like why do I bother, bad? Good luck to Alana, she's welcome to a future of disappointing and highly scheduled sex."

Jacqui rolls onto her stomach and stares down at me, shrieking with laughter when I describe the routine we've had for the entire relationship. 

"Oh mate, why didn't you tell me before?" She manages to get out before another round of laughter makes her bury her face in the pillow.

"This… this is why, you can't even breathe right now." I finish off the rest of my drink, grinning like a Cheshire cat as I take both our glasses and put them on the bedside table. 

"Ok, no, seriously, in your whole relationship, how many times did you, you know?" She makes a confusing gesture with a creased face which without context would make her look like she was having some sort of painful spasm.

"A couple maybe, I think?" She gasps and shakes her head. "It was just the same, over and over, kissing, penetration, done, if I was quick enough I could get myself off, but no, it wasn't great."

"Oh darling, seriously?" She rifles through my drawers until she finds a notepad and starts scribbling furiously. 

"What are you doing?" She sniggers, moving away when I try to see what she's writing.

"Just wait a second, I'm making you a fuck it list."

"A what?"

"A fuck it list." She says as if that's enough of an explanation. "A list of sexy stuff I want you to do, within the next year, to make up for eleven years,

"Jacqueline Davies." I say in horror as I start reading the list. "I can't do that stuff. I definitely can't do number seventeen, what are you on?"

"Yes you can, it's relatively tame stuff mate, it's not like I'm saying do BDSM or go to a swingers club. Although actually…"

"No way." 

"Fine. But I really think you should think about it, it's mostly stuff people do when they're at uni anyway, but you missed out on because you were too busy with Dully McCrapSex." I pick up the list and start to read through them again. The idea of doing any of the stuff on this list fills me with horror, but there's a tiny part of me that is interested and somehow Jacqui sees it. With a huge smile she grabs my hand and checks her watch. "Right, get dressed, I'm taking you out dancing, the first one is easy anyway, I just want you to get a snog off a fit random."

The cool air sobers me up a little, I'm wearing the same pretty blue dress I'd put on for Rob earlier because it's far too pretty to only associate with memories of him. My boobs feel like earrings, they're pushed so far up in a bra I haven't worn for years and I'm teetering about in high heels for the first time since Rob and I moved in together.

"You look stunning." Jacqui, dressed in my black funeral dress, reassures me as we walk straight onto the dance floor. 

I haven't been to a nightclub in probably seven or eight years, at the very least and this one is as dark and grimy as ever I've seen. Jacqui chose this place because no one we know would set foot in here, and with good reason, my shoes are sticking to the floor, the DJ is chatting up girls half his age and I just want to go home. I scan the crowds, everyone looks so young and a little shiver of revulsion goes through me.

We should not be in here! We're like those creepy men we tried to avoid in our teens, the ones who stand at the edge of the dancefloor scanning the crowd and waiting for someone who's drunk enough to take advantage of. 

Jacqui is unrelenting and after a few shots at the bar, I'm relaxed enough to join her on the dancefloor, reluctant to admit that I'm really starting to enjoy myself and although it's probably the alcohol talking, it feels like the first time in years that I've felt this free. 

I don't actually need to snog anyone, just having some much needed fun can be the first step to getting my life back on track.

I dance like I've never danced before, literally, I'm doing moves that I'd never have dreamt of doing in public if I were younger and more sober. My cheeks ache from the smile that refuses to leave my face and I'm ready to call it a night just before arms slide around my waist and a body presses against my back, matching his rhythm with my own.

Jacqui grins, nods and turns to another man on the dance floor. My heart beats hard and my mouth feels dry as I turn to look at the person attached to the hands gripping my hips.

A mop of blondish hair on his head and a black tattoo peeking out from under his shirt sleeve, he's younger than me, but not by much thankfully, so I don't feel too weird when he moves in closer.

He kisses me with more interest and passion than Rob has in the last eleven years and, almost as if my body has a mind of its own, I feel myself responding to it. My hands wind their way into his hair, I push myself against him and feel the hardness of his erection beneath his jeans, which immediately causes a tingle of desire in the bottom of my tummy. 

I thought that didn't happen anymore! I thought that was something that only happened with teenage love!

When his lips move to my neck, I look around for Jacqui and see her further away, grinding between two men. My new friend nips at the skin on my collar bone and it's almost enough to have me cumming on the dancefloor. Without thinking, I take his hand, dragging him along behind me as I speed aimlessly through the dimly lit rooms. I'm not sure where I'm going and am stopped when we reach the toilets and I've nowhere left to go.

Automatically going to apologise for the mad dash I've led him on, I'm pleasantly surprised when he kisses me again, crushing me against the wall while his hands move over my body. Getting braver by the second, one massages my breast over my dress, tugging at the neckline until he can slip his hand inside my clothes and I moan into his mouth when he gently pinches my nipple.

"Oh my god." I look around in a panic, but no one's watching us anyway, it's dark and they're all too involved in whatever they're doing to worry about what two strangers are up to.

When he lifts my legs around his waist, I reach out for balance, accidentally pressing down on a door handle and I have to grab onto his shoulders as my back support swings away. 

We stumble into an empty toilet but he somehow manages to keep us both upright and one look at him, his eyes full of desire, and all my sensibilities go out of the window. No one's looked at me like that in years and I know exactly what I want to do. 

Kicking the door shut, I kiss his neck and he moans, biting down on my shoulder until I'm sure there'll be evidence of our encounter there tomorrow.

Resting me on the edge of the sink, he pulls down the front of my dress roughly, catching my bra cups at the same time so my boobs are bare to him and his wandering hands.

It feels amazing and I lock my heels behind his back, trapping him tightly between my thighs as I undo his shirt, kissing and biting at his surprising and pleasantly muscular chest. I'm so aroused I nearly cum when he brings his mouth to my nipple, flicking his tongue back and forth as his hand runs up my leg and under my skirt. I part my legs and his fingers slide along my underwear, his middle one inching its way under the material.

"Oh god." The words escape as his finger touches skin and I pull his head up so my mouth meets his, tugging furiously at his jeans with my other hand until his erection bounces between us, long and hard. 

"Oh fuck." He breathes when I reach out, stroking my hand all over it, feeling the delicious moisture at its tip. It feels huge and hard and I'm desperate for him to be inside me, so I edge towards him at the same time guiding him to where I want him. "Wait."

"No." He chuckles at the desperate neediness in my voice, gripping my hip to hold me at bay while deftly slipping on a condom one handed.

Crashing his lips against mine in a rough, hard kiss, he slides my underwear aside and we both cry out in pleasure and relief as he finally enters me. 

It's as though all his restraint disappears in an instant, because he lifts me in strong arms, pressing me against the wall as he pounds into me, over and over. Every thrust causing a wonderful pressure to build inside me and I bite down on my hand to stop myself from crying out too loudly.

"Oh, oh, oh." I can't stop the sounds as I get closer, then my whole body goes rigid as the orgasm sweeps through me, he's biting down on my shoulder as he rocks rapidly, drawing out my pleasure while trying to hold back his own. With a feral growl he stills deep inside me and even with the condom on, I can feel the twitching that comes with his release. I squeeze my muscles against his cock and he makes a noise halfway between a laugh and a gasp, leaning his forehead against mine while our breathing returns to normal.

I can't believe I just did that. 

He lowers me to the floor and I adjust my clothes as he does his buttons up, a satisfied smile on his face.

"Uh… um… thanks, I needed that." I laugh awkwardly, unsure of the correct protocol now.

"Anytime." He pulls me towards him and kisses me again, a kiss so filled with passion I'm tempted to take him again right away but then he pulls away and takes my hand in his. "Really, anytime. Do you want a drink?"

"Um… Ok, you go out first, so we're not spotted." He laughs but nods, leaving the bathroom while I close the door and lock it behind him. Checking myself in the mirror, readjusting my clothes and washing my face so no one will be able to tell I've just had sex in a toilet.

Oh my god, I just had sex with a stranger in a toilet! What am I doing? I'm a slag. I need to go home.

I text Jacqui, telling her we need to leave and she meets me outside in a matter of minutes. I don't see him again before we get into the taxi and I'm relieved as well as disappointed.

"What happened? Are you ok?" Jacqui looks so concerned but I shake my head, refusing to tell her until we're inside my house. I didn't speak all the way home, I didn't want the taxi driver overhearing and judging me. But now we're home she's going to force me to tell her, I know she will and I do want to tell her, I need to.

"Yeah, I um… I did it. With him. With the guy I was dancing with."

"Yay. See and don't you feel better?" She hugs me and picks up the list she made earlier. "Snog a stranger - tick "

"No, no, I mean I did… it. I had sex with him." I hiss the last bit and she stares at me for a moment, a slow grin spreading across her face.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You had sex with him? In the club? Where, how was it? Tell me everything." Her voice is so loud I'm sure the neighbours can probably hear her, but she's unstoppable. She grabs my hand and yanks me to the sofa, staring at me eagerly. 

I tell her what happened as she tops up the wine from earlier, the grin never leaving her face. 

"See, I knew you had it in you. Oh my god, you're coming skiing with me next week. There's so many cute guys going, and girls if you're really wanting to tick things off."

"What?" I grab the list and scan it again, there are two threesomes listed, one with two guys and one with a girl and a guy, my face burns as I read them and Jacqui cackles at me, tapping excitedly on her phone.

"I've just text Danny, the organiser, and told him you're coming so you have to. Beth from work was meant to be coming with me but she dropped out last minute, so there's space. Yay. Holiday with my bestie." She practically strangles me in a hug and I feel my embarrassment ebb away a little after telling her what I did.

"Yeah ok, I love skiing, but the list is staying here." I say firmly, tossing the list onto the coffee table.

"Of course it is." She cackles again. "How exciting, Miss Jackson, how very, very exciting."