_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

MORNING
In bed, his hands on my hips, his breath hot against my neck, his skin
slick with sweat against mine, he says, “We don’t do this enough
anymore.”
“I know.”
“We need to make more time for ourselves.”
“We do.”
“I miss you,” he says. “I miss this. I want more of this.”
I roll over and kiss him on the lips, my eyes tight shut, trying to
suppress the guilt I feel for going to the police behind his back.
“I think we should go somewhere,” he mumbles, “just the two of us.
Get away for a bit.”
And leave Evie with whom? I want to ask. Your parents, whom you
don’t speak to? Or my mother, who is so frail, she can barely care for
herself?
I don’t say that, I don’t say anything, I just kiss him again, more
deeply. His hand slips down to the back of my thigh and he grips it, hard.
“What do you think? Where would you like to go? Mauritius? Bali?”
I laugh.
“I’m serious,” he says, pulling back from me, looking me in the eye.
“We deserve it, Anna. You deserve it. It’s been a hard year, hasn’t it?”
“But . . .”
“But what?” He flashes his perfect smile at me. “We’ll figure
something out with Evie, don’t worry.”
“Tom, the money.”
“We’ll be OK.”
“But . . .” I don’t want to say this, but I have to. “We don’t have
enough money to even consider moving house, but we do have enough
money for a holiday in Mauritius or Bali?”
He puffs out his cheeks, then exhales slowly, rolling away from me. I
shouldn’t have said it. The baby monitor crackles into life: Evie’s waking
up.
“I’ll get her,” he says, and gets up and leaves the room.
• • •
At breakfast, Evie is doing her thing. It’s a game to her now, refusing
food, shaking her head, chin up, lips firmly closed, her little fists pushing
at the bowl in front of her. Tom’s patience wears thin quickly.