I head back to work the following Monday feeling like we’ve turned a corner. Something has shifted, but we’re adapting and of that I am proud.

We’re under pressure. There’s no denying that and it’s the first time we’ve experienced something that could divide us.

Everything else that has been thrown at us in the past have been issues we can join forces over and attack together. While in theory we can do that, we’re rapidly learning it’s not so easy when you are located in different geographic locations where communication is further hampered by conflicting schedules.

The very nature of being separated from the one person you rely on is duty bound to royally screw that up. It has taken some time to find our way of dealing with these pressures alone. It’s far more difficult without the usual support of a partner.

I’m flying high. Nothing can stop me.

And so, when it’s time for me to attack my gym session with Florian tonight, I’m bouncing off the walls with excess energy.

The man can try to break me, but today I’m not for the breaking.

Until, he says the one thing I wasn’t expecting. “It was great watching the rugby with Kyle the other night. He’s really not such a grump when he isn’t working out.”

I do a double take. “You watched the rugby match with Kyle?”

“Sure, didn’t he tell you? After our training session last week. We set the world to rights. I suppose his size should have forewarned me. In hindsight, he looks every inch the rugby player but I wasn’t expecting him to be quite so clued up on the game. Most people in England follow football.”

“Yeah, he played a lot as a kid.” Why didn’t Kyle tell me this? Did he and I missed it? I swear I would have remembered.

“What night was this, I can’t remember.” Not that it matters. Kyle didn’t tell me. He had beers with another guy, in his house, our house, and he never thought it was worth telling me.

Florian is talking, droning on in the background but I’m not listening, even though I’ve asked for his answer.

No. I’m wondering if this is why Kyle didn’t kiss me when I arrived home, why he wasn’t bothered about me even being there.

A million questions run through my brain, each becoming increasingly accusatory toward Kyle than the last. By the time I’ve finished, I’ve concluded he definitely had a fling with Florian the other night. This was the time I couldn’t get a hold of him and the next day, we didn’t speak for ages either.

Not properly.

This was the marker in the sand for when things changed between us. I just didn’t notice it then.

I am the fool who knocks along blindly thinking that everything is OK when it’s clearly not.

To be fair, he couldn’t have screamed it any louder in the kitchen with his proposal to shag. I mean, I’m not against giving it hard and fast to the man of my dreams in any way he wants, but it was a rather clinical suggestion to get over the hurdle which had laid down in front of us.

“So, come on then, Elliott. Enough of this chatter. I know your game; the distraction technique should be taught at training college. Pick up that kettle bell.”

And I do.

I go through the rest of my work out without letting on to the man who may be about to ruin my marriage that I have my suspicions about what really went on the other night between him and my husband. I continue, clinging on to any ounce of remaining pride, my heart shattered. I will not reveal how much I can be hurt.

I take his orders, throw the weights around as though they are sweets, and don't even see the sweat dripping into a pool under my nose as I exercise to the extreme.