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I turned around and went back upstairs.
I don’t know why. She’d mouthed come in and I’d heard it and I’d still turned around. Maybe I couldn’t bear to walk into my own living room and see her face up close. Maybe I was scared of what I’d feel.
I lay on the bed in the dark with the door shut.
It didn’t help. I could still hear them. The rhythmic creak of the sofa. Her moans getting louder, then a long sharp cry I knew meant she’d come. Then his groan, deep and rough.
Then quiet. Then, after a long time, murmuring and laughter.
Ross left about an hour later. I heard the car start.
Fiona came upstairs and stood in the doorway. “Cal?”
I didn’t answer.
“I know you’re awake. I saw you. On the stairs.” She came in and sat on the bed. “I asked you to come in.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you?”
I had no good answer. “I don’t know. I panicked.”
She lay down behind me and put her arm over me. She smelled of sweat and sex and a different man’s aftershave. I was hard again and I didn’t know what to do with it.
“It felt wrong without you,” she said quietly. “Not bad. Just… wrong. Like you’d left the party.”
We lay there in silence until we fell asleep. In the morning neither of us mentioned it. It was weeks before we did.
Ending 12 of 16: Alone Upstairs. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.