_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

Everyone told me I was insane to agree to move in to Tom’s house.
But then everyone thought I was insane to get involved with a married
man, let alone a married man whose wife was highly unstable, and I’ve
proved them wrong on that one. No matter how much trouble she causes,
Tom and Evie are worth it. But they were right about the house. On days
like today, with the sun shining, when you walk down our little street—
tree-lined and tidy, not quite a cul-de-sac, but with the same sense of
community—it could be perfect. Its pavements are busy with mothers
just like me, with dogs on leads and toddlers on scooters. It could be
ideal. It could be, if you weren’t able to hear the screeching brakes of the
trains. It could be, so long as you didn’t turn around and look back down
towards number fifteen.
When I get back, Tom is sitting at the dining room table looking at
something on the computer. He’s wearing shorts but no shirt; I can see
the muscles moving under his skin when he moves. It still gives me
butterflies to look at him. I say hello, but he’s in a world of his own, and
when I run my fingertips over his shoulder he jumps. The laptop snaps
shut.
“Hey,” he says, getting to his feet. He’s smiling but he looks tired,
worried. He takes Evie from me without looking me in the eye.
“What?” I ask. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he says, and he turns away towards the window, bouncing
Evie on his hip.
“Tom, what?”
“It’s nothing.” He turns back and gives me a look, and I know what
he’s going to say before he says it. “Rachel. Another email.” He shakes
his head and he looks so wounded, so upset, and I hate it, I can’t bear it.
Sometimes I want to kill that woman.
“What’s she said?”
He just shakes his head again. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just . . . the
usual. Bullshit.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, and I don’t ask what bullshit exactly, because I
know he won’t want to tell me. He hates upsetting me with this stuff.
“It’s OK. It’s nothing. Just the usual pissed nonsense.”
“God, is she ever going to go away? Is she ever going to just let us be
happy?”
He comes over to me and, with our daughter between us, kisses me.
“We are happy,” he says. “We are.”
EVENING