Dominique knocked on Ruby’s door, trying not to feel intimidated by the ‘Keep Out’ sign’s beady-eyed glare.

‘I’ve got food,’ she called. ‘It’s almost half four, you’ve spent the whole day in your room. It’s Christmas Eve, Ruby, don’t you want to spend some time with your family?’

An indecipherable mutter was her only reply.

Dominique predicted her daughter would spend the rest of the day holed up in her bedroom, and not appear even to eat. She would leave some food outside the door and something to drink, but Ruby was renowned for her stubbornness and may not even take that much from her mother. Instead, she would lurk in her bedroom, filling the house with a mist of resentment so thick that Dominique could almost see it, could feel it filling up her lungs and choking her.

She wished she had the luxury of being able to throw a hissy fit and take to her room for a day. But there was too much to do; the cooking, the cleaning (yes, she had a cleaner, but it was amazing how untidy the place got with two children and two adults in the house), playing peacemaker. It was exhausting, draining. Quitting for a day was tempting.

She snorted a laugh, imagining everyone’s reaction. Benjamin would be furious on principle, Ruby would…

Ruby would what? Probably be glad that her mum wasn’t around to get in the way of her plans.

Even Mouse would probably just read for the day, if Dominique weren’t around to look after her.

Her little girl wouldn’t be little for much longer. Once Mouse reached the difficult teenage years, Dominique’s role as a mum would lessen, she was sure. Ruby certainly wanted as little as possible to do with her these days, and Amber was bound to follow suit. The thought of missing a moment of her childhood by hiding in bed made Dom’s heart sink.

Sometimes she felt like the only thing her family needed her for was to feed them. That, and stand between people in arguments, always trying to play the role of diplomat, always absorbing the insults and fury flung at herself or others.

She was going to have to step up, she realised. Her family was slipping away, but that was partly her own fault. Watching it happen and sighing in sadness about its inevitability served no positive purpose at all.

Time she stopped letting life happen to her, and started making some positive decisions. Time she took an active role in her own life.

Did that mean leaving Benjamin? That this would be their last Christmas together? The thought made her soar with lightness and shiver with fear all at once.

Benjamin’s words from the argument haunted her.

‘Is this one of your funny dreams?’

This wasn’t one of her dreams. Was it? No, she was certain that she had truly experienced that awful moment on the street when her husband’s mistress had confronted her.

When she and Benjamin had first got together she had been dazzled by him, had followed him like a flower follows the movement of the sun. He was strong and protective, but gave her space to flourish and build confidence in herself again.

Now she felt like a shrivelled-up bloom, parched and stunted.

She wondered if Benjamin’s lover was thriving under his love now. Did this Kendra woman know Benjamin as well as she did? That his confidence was a disguise? Did she realise that, for all his outward appearances, he wasn’t materialistic at all?

What drove him to buy the latest gadgets, to have a big house, and good clothes was the need to look after and nurture his family. They were everything to him. This was the soft side he only showed to her and the children. He wanted to give them everything because he was a good man. A man who really did work long hours; she knew that much because she had seen it herself. She worried about his health, drinking too much, eating rich food, rarely having time to exercise. He gave that business everything he had – so that in turn he could give his family everything. He still had a chip on his shoulder about never quite measuring up to his own father’s high standards, which made him constantly feel a failure in comparison.

The affair was a terrible betrayal. But intuition told her there was something else going on, too. Perhaps she should talk to him, try to find out what and see if she could help him.

Or she could leave him to his own stinking mess, because he had betrayed her and the children in the worst way possible.

The latter sounded a lot more appealing.

Even if she and Benjamin split, she wasn’t the type to stop worrying about him, though. She had vowed to love him for life, and even now she knew she would never completely stop.

As she pondered, it hit her. The only thing that really, truly got to her husband was his business. Something must be wrong with it to be causing his volatile behaviour. Perhaps it was losing money.

If that was the case, she didn’t care. So what? It was lovely to have a comfortable life but she wasn’t bothered about trappings. As long as her family was together, it didn’t matter if they had spare cash.

She realised what she was thinking. She was willing to fight for her marriage.

A roof over their heads was all they needed. They could downsize easily, and move to a far cheaper area that was still nice – they had paid £1.75 million for the house and that had been six months ago. Property prices had risen again since then. Benjamin could get a different car. Stop going to his gun club and golf club. Even if the kids only received half of what they had requested for Christmas, it would still be loads. And as long as they were all together, healthy and happy, that was enough.

If only she could get Benjamin to see that.

If only she were absolutely sure that the family she had in mind would include him now. Could she really forgive him for cheating on her for four long years?

It was a big question, and one she needed to take her time answering.