Chapter Text
Finding herself finally in the privacy of the Travelodge room in Barrow-in-Furness, Robin leaned against the door and took a deep breath.
The events of the last two days crashed over her in an instant, leaving her exhausted—physically and emotionally. Her body wanted nothing more than to fall onto the bed and rest, but her brain refused to switch off. Matthew’s betrayal, on top of the emotional roller coaster of the case, kept her lying awake, her thoughts jumping restlessly from one to another.
She had to ask herself some very important questions about her future.
She had been with Matthew since she was a teenager. He had been her first boyfriend. She had been happy he chose her over all the other girls at their school. She had believed he loved her. But since moving to London, she was no longer sure.
She had once read that love does not consist of gazing at each other, but of looking together in the same direction. When she was young, she had been happy simply gazing at Matthew. But now, as adults… she was no longer certain they were looking in the same direction.
It wasn’t Matthew who had changed. It was her. Not changed exactly—but returned to who she might have been if nothing had forced her to leave university.
When Matthew tried to steer her toward higher-paying office jobs she found dull, she had once seen it as support. Now, since starting work for Strike, she saw it as control. She knew he would never be content with her job—or her salary. His desire for an expensive apartment, an expensive car, and dinners in expensive restaurants would always come first. Her wish to feel fulfilled in her work, regardless of the pay, would always be secondary—if it was considered at all.
To him, she was there to earn decent money so that, combined with his own income, he could enjoy a life of comfort and status. She was there to support his career, to admire him while he charmed every room he entered. She herself was not the priority. Her ambition had not mattered to him since she left university.
He had run after her, shouting that he loved her as she drove away in the Land Rover. The night before, he had cried and begged. But now she recognized the emotional manipulation for what it was. His messages showed complete disregard for her words and her decision to end their engagement—as though she had no right to make that decision. Yet he believed he had every right to make his own. The speed of his shift—from pleading and remorseful to cold and threatening—made her furious.
If you sleep with him, we’re over for good…
His lack of sensitivity, of empathy, was staggering. He could not understand that they had been over the moment he sought “comfort” in Sarah’s bed in Bath. He had been confident she would never truly leave him—that she would hesitate to end a relationship that had lasted so long.
Would it have lasted this long if she had not been attacked at university? No. She was sure she would have left him back then. Instead, she had clung to what she believed was a safe harbour. Now she knew he had been anything but.
He had counted on persuading her to forgive him. He had relied on her guilt—on her awareness of her parents’ effort and money spent on the wedding. He thought he knew her. He had failed to notice how much she had changed.
No. She would not sacrifice her career or her contentment for him.
If he wanted to play this game, then she would play it. As far as she was concerned, they were no longer engaged. That meant she could do what she liked. She could do this. No one would ever know.
With the decision made, her heart lighter than it had been in hours, she finally fell asleep.
The next morning, she called her mother. She told her about the end of the engagement and the reason for it. She apologized for the money her parents had spent and promised she would find a way to repay them.
Then she read Matthew’s message again and replied:
Then I suppose we’re over for good. Let me know when you won’t be at the apartment so I can collect my things.
She was leaving Matthew because of Matthew—because he was selfish and self-centered—not because of Strike. She knew it was wrong to use Strike as an excuse.
But he would never find out what she did.
Would he?