But she couldn’t make a scene. She had to grin and bear eating the pavlova that had just arrived on the dining table. The chatter continued and for the rest of the evening, she felt guilty for Charlie's ignorance: he trusted her and she was the selfish one.
As they walked down the King’s Road, looking to hail a taxi, she looked at the teenagers drunkenly heading to their next party and remembered that she used to be one of them.
Suddenly, Charlie stopped. “What?” she asked. “You were different in there,” he told her.
Then she looked up at him; his face softened. He really did care. He really did love her. And instead of saying anything, she leant over and kissed him. “I’m fine.”
Then he looked at his watch. It was midnight. “Do you know what day it is?” he asked.
She smiled. She knew this was the only day in the year he remembered. “Three years,” she replied. He nodded. They were married at St. Luke's on Sydney Street three years ago today and it was the most frightening day of her life.
Then Charlie said, “The past is the past.” ‘Shit’, she thought. 'He knew.' He knew about her American lover and she couldn’t bear it anymore; she had to tell him everything. She had to relieve herself of the guilt she had been carrying around all this time. But as she was about to say something, Charlie leant over and kissed her. He didn't let her say anything.
Charlie then took her by the hand and as he saw a taxi approaching, he hailed it. The taxi pulled up and as they got in, she realised she had to move on. She wouldn't let the past imprison her anymore.
Instead, she took one last look at the King’s Road and said goodbye. She then stepped into the taxi with the man she loved and who loved her back for everything that she was.
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