Nothing Compares To You

Signals

Iain opened the door to their room and... sighed. It was empty and dark. Their stuff was all there, just no Debbie.

Where was she? She'd known he would be back today. He'd even made it more or less on time. She'd said they were going out tonight for a meal with some of their new friends - including Tom.  

He was excited beyond anything her could have imagined.  Actual Tom Hiddleston, spending time with him?  Ok, Debbie was probably the main link, and he was grateful.  A touch jealous of her maybe but grateful nonetheless.  He would show her just how grateful at the meal. He'd had a lot of time on his own to think about things over the last couple of days. Important stuff, life changing stuff.

Just as he was about to call her, she rushed in the door behind him.

"Iain, I'm so sorry. I was shopping. I lost track of the time." She smiled and dropped the bags at the side of the door. "Welcome back." She reached out to hug him, and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her sloppily, almost eating her mouth in his eagerness to demonstrate to her he had missed her. She gave an involuntary shudder, and he broke off. 

"What's up, baby?" He looked at her carefully. 

"Nothing, nothing at all. Well, almost nothing. " she lied. This was not the moment to be coming clean.  She needed to be prepared, not just to blurt it out.  Big mistake.  "Just feel a slight headache. Sorry, " she shrugged with a small smile, "that old chestnut, I'm afraid!"

"Aww honey, you're not cancelling tonight, are you? I mean DINNER? With TOM HIDDLESTON? Don't wanna miss that. He's a star, honey. Can't let a little headache stop that, eh?"

"I'm aware who and what he is Iain. Don't worry, I won't spoil your fanboy moment." She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. He cared more that her headache would spoil HIS night than if she might be either ill or trying to get out of an awkward dinner with her ex-husband.  A tinge of guilt made it just that little bit worse.

Iain, as she had come to realise, had the emotional intelligence of a brick.

"Good girl. Now, you get changed, honey, and I'll have a quick shower." As he reached the bathroom door, he paused, "and don't wear that green dress? I don't like how it makes you look."

"What?" She snapped. "Since when do you tell me what to wear?" Her one remaining nerve had just snapped.

"I just don't want anyone looking at you the way I want to." He shrugged, oblivious to her anger. Turning away before she could speak, he closed the door.

Debbie stood, fists clenched, teeth gritted, and swore inwardly. "Who the bloody hell does he think he is? I'll wear whatever the FUCK I want to."  He was really showing his colours now.  And green certainly didn't suit HIM.

She'd actually bought a outfit for the evening, but now? After that comment, she was determined to wear the green dress and show him she wouldn't be dictated to.  For all their arguments and all their faults, Tom had NEVER told her what to wear.  Well, she added with a little smirk, not the bits anyone else ever saw anyway.  That thought made her shudder too, but in a completely different way.

To say the atmosphere in the taxi was frosty would be like saying the Arctic was a 'little chilly'.

Debbie sat, wrapped in her blue wool coat, deliberately wearing the green dress.  She stared out of the window into the evening light. She had to dump him. And soon. Not tonight, but tomorrow. Be calm, she kept repeating. Tomorrow it will all be over.

Iain sat in the taxi, quietly raging. She'd worn that dress, despite him telling her not to. Well, after they were married it would be a different story. Wives respected their husbands wishes. Wasn't that how it went ? "To love, honour, and obey?"