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time, I promise.”
    “Well, it’s difficult, isn’t it? We’re both so busy and we’ve got the boys.” I want it to be true: for the boys to be mine as much as they are his. Will the void left by my silent baby ever be filled? I don’t look at him, but stare at my menu, trying to make my voice sound casual. Unlike James, who always knows what he wants to eat, I need to study each option carefully because I am never sure what to order until I see it. James puts down his menu and watches me, his expression serious. Mentioning Dillon and Luke will have reminded him of the problems we have both left at home.
                  But then his face relaxes. “Oh, that reminds me. I’ve got to shoot a wedding in Leeds the Saturday after next. It’s a bit far to drive there and back in one day so I’ll have to stay overnight. You don’t mind, do you? I mean, if you need me for anything –”
                  “No, no, don’t cancel work.”
                  Before he can respond, the waiter comes over to take our order. He is short, and his eyes are more yellow than white, but he has a kind face, and I try to focus on his smile while I tell him what I’d like, because in a few seconds I will have to deal with what James has just told me.
                  Without hesitation, James orders Tandoori chicken, and because I have been too distracted to make a decision, I ask for the same.
                  When the waiter has gone, James reaches for my hand. “Look, I know it’s the first time you’ll be alone with the boys overnight, but maybe it will be a good thing? Without me there you might bond or something?” He flashes a smile, as if he really believes this is possible. That the answer is as simple as the three of us being left alone together. But to me it is the worst possible scenario. The way things are at the moment, a night alone with the boys is my worst nightmare. But James is always optimistic, always wanting to believe things will work out, no matter what evidence there is to the contrary.
                  The waiter returns with a bottle of red wine, pouring us both a glass. “Cheers!” James says, holding his up and clinking it against mine.
    I offer a more subdued cheers. And suddenly I want to tell him that I’m sinking into a pit because nothing is how I thought it would be. None of it is real. I am not a real mother, and how can I be a real wife when I can barely let my husband know me? But then I hear Emma’s words in my ear, and know that it is selfish to burden him with this. He has been through enough losing Lauren so he doesn’t need to deal with my troubles too; he needs peace, to know that the worst is behind him. So I will keep quiet and put on a face for him that is not my own.
                  James’ phone beeps in his pocket, but he doesn’t notice. He is too busy telling me about his and Tabitha’s plan for extending the business. I can’t see how it is their plan because Tabitha is his receptionist, not business partner, but I won’t push my negativity onto him. Whatever I feel about her, she does a good job.
                  “Your phone,” I say, pointing to his pocket. “You got a message.”
                  “Oh, right.” He fumbles around then eventually pulls out his iPhone and begins pressing buttons. “Tabitha. Asking if she can drive up to Leeds with me.” He reads a bit more. “Apparently she’s got a cousin up there she wants to visit.”
                  How convenient. “Oh, okay.” I sip some wine and try to ignore the fact my insides are sinking. I can trust James. He is not interested in Tabitha. “I hope they hurry up with the food. I’m starving!”
                  There is often a power struggle in relationships; one person having the upper hand. It can be subtle, unintentional, barely noticeable to the couple, but it’s still