"Well, well, well."

I stared in horror at the sight of Sarah stood in the doorway, a dripping umbrella held by her side, her eyebrow raised in surprise, jealousy, rage, all three, I couldn't tell.

"Isn't this…romantic," she added scornfully.

"Sarah," I gasped, suddenly painfully aware that I was half naked and in a very compromising position with a man who was technically still Sarah's husband, "what are you-?"

Almost as quickly as Adam had de-robed me, he hastily and yet gently pulled the fabric around my body and tied the sash securely around my waist. I was grateful for this consideration.

"Don't stop on my account." The sarcasm in Sarah's voice was clear, but so was the pain, no matter how hard she tried to mask it. "Go ahead, pretend I'm not here."

"Sarah," Adam turned to his wife. I recognised the soft pleading tone in his voice; whatever their official status, this was a man who wanted to explain, to smooth things over, to be forgiven. "This isn't what it looks like."

I glanced at Adam in surprise. This was exactly what it looked like, and asking Sarah to deny the evidence of her own eyes was not going to help his cause.

"It never is with you, Adam," Sarah said with a resigned sigh.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"The only thing I want to know," Sarah continued, ignoring Adam's question, "and if you could please be honest with me for once in your life."

"I will, I swear to you, I swear on Harry's life."

"Don't you dare bring Harry into this."

"Sorry," he said, knowing he'd fucked up.

"Has this-" Sarah waved her finger at Adam and me to emphasise exactly what 'this' she was talking about, "been going on this whole time?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Have you two been carrying on ever since that first time?"

"No! Please believe me, Sarah, this only started after we split."

"Why should I believe you, you've never been completely honest about her. You've always held something back. And now I know why."

I'd held my tongue for too long. As the 'her' and 'this' in the middle of this marital dispute, I felt the need to defend myself. But, as I opened my mouth to unleash the viciousness of my tongue on Sarah in a way I'd done countless times on other women over the years – partners of men I'd wanted, my competition, roadblocks to my happiness – I hesitated at first and then capitulated. I realised that it was me that was the problem here. I was the one that was out of place, not Sarah. I shouldn't be here. This was a conversation that needed to happen between Adam and Sarah. I was the interloper.

With nothing left for me to do, I calmly picked up my clothes, spoke to either or both Adam and Sarah in my request to "Lock the door on your way out" and walked with as much dignity as I could muster while wearing what must look to Sarah like a robe of seduction towards the door.

It wasn't until I was out of sight and hastily pulling on my clothes that I heard the footsteps of someone coming after me.

"Carla, wait a minute."

It was Adam of course. Sarah wouldn't ever be the one to regret me leaving a room.

"You should go back in there," I advised him, surprised at how genuinely calm and rational I was talking, "she won't take kindly to you coming after me."

"You don't have to leave just because she showed up."

"Oh, Adam," I stopped dressing to look him in the eye, "look, you two obviously have some unresolved… something to sort out."

"We don't."

"You don't bicker like that if there's no feelings there."

"There's not-"

"It's okay, I understand, I really do. But I don't want any part of it. You need to sort out whatever's going on with you and Sarah before anything can ever happen between us."

"There's nothing going on between me and Sarah, I swear."

"Deny it all you want but to me it's obvious. So, what you need to do is this: you need to think long and hard about whether you really want your marriage to end. Go in there and talk to her, she's still your wife. And the fact that she hasn't stormed out of here yet says something doesn't it?"

"Does it?"

"Take some time, Adam, and be honest with yourself, and with Sarah. And please, lock the door when you're done."

With that I considered our conversation – and relationship – closed and walked away.

The storm had mostly subsided by this point and, with nothing waiting for me at home, I decided a drink in the Rovers was what I needed to shake off what had just happened.

"Alright, Mrs Barlow." Kirk's voice greeted me as I stepped inside the pub. As I'd suspected, he'd headed straight here after knocking off time.

"Kirky." I acknowledged him briefly before sinking onto a stool at the bar with a deep sigh.

"One of those days, is it?" Glenda asked, the smooth friendly banter of a professional barmaid always at the ready. "What'll it be?"

"Red wine," I said without hesitation, "a large one. And whatever Kirk's having."

"Thanks very much, Mrs Barlow," Kirk accepted gratefully. "I'll have another pint please."

I didn't know why I'd shouted Kirk that pint, but seeing Kirk's face when I walked in from the storm, hearing his always cheerful voice, had given me comfort. Kirk represented a weird sort of consistency, normalcy even, in my life. I could always count on Kirk to be Kirk. Some things in life change, like Peter leaving, like Adam in an instant becoming out of reach to me, but other things would always stay the same. And right now, I chose to be grateful for those unchanging things.

"Here you go," Glenda said as she placed a very large glass of red wine in front of me.

Even as I was holding out my bank card for Glenda with one hand, I grasped the wine glass in the other and gulped down a good portion of it.

Nothing had changed, I reasoned with myself. Besides tonight's little blip I'd been doing just fine with my decision not to take things with Adam any further. But then why did I feel like this? Why did I feel like I'd lost something? That something I wanted was never going to be mine. That wouldn't have stopped me in the past. If I'd wanted something, someone, a man, it wouldn't have mattered to me that he had a wife, not if I truly believed that we were destined to be together. But I was getting too old for this game, too tired, too jaded. Too sick of the drama, that was for sure.

And so my lamentations continued for another two glasses of wine when finally I'd tired of that as well.

"Another one?" Glenda asked expectantly, her hand hovering over the almost empty wine bottle.

"Not for me, I'm off home to me bed. Got knickers to stitch in the morning."

"Leaving so soon?"

The extra loud thump of my heart in my chest at the sound of Adam's voice I could easily cover, the sharp intake of my breath at his presence I prayed he didn't notice.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, trying my hardest to remain casual.

"Looking for you."

I turned to look at him and, fixing my eyes on his, asked, "Why?"

"I've got some information I thought you might be interested in."

I couldn't read the expression in his eyes. To me they seemed to twinkle with that same cheeky sexiness that always made me a little weak, but surely that was just the wine talking.

"Well, spit it out then, don't keep me in suspense."

"I thought you might find it interesting to know that I will always care about Sarah."

"Oh."

"On some level. But whatever we had, it's broken and it can't be fixed. Me and Sarah, we are done, for good."

"Are you sure?"

He smiled at me and I knew that the twinkle in his eyes had nothing to do with the wine.

"I'm sure."