Love in the City

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Love in the City Page 26

by Jen Morris


  I look at Michael and feel a stab behind my breastbone. Because… my heart. My heart is protesting. My heart is telling me that’s all wrong—he wouldn’t do that, he’s not that guy. Not my Michael.

  He turns to see me scrutinizing him. When he reaches for my hand, I give an involuntary flinch and he frowns.

  “You okay?”

  “I…” I gnaw on my bottom lip, wanting to ask him but not even sure where to begin.

  “Alex, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I mumble, glancing away. I can’t ask him about this now. He’s worried about Henry and this is not the time. This isn’t about me.

  “Hey.” He leans closer to tuck my hair behind my ear. “Something’s wrong and I want you to tell me. Please.”

  When I lift my gaze to his concerned face, my heart protests again, louder. Maybe I should just ask him. He’s got enough to worry about right now without me sulking. That’s not fair, either.

  And if I don’t say something, this is going to eat me up.

  I set our coffees aside and stand, glancing down the corridor. Finding an empty room, I pull Michael in and close the door. My hands are trembling as I think about what I’m going to ask him. Because this isn’t really about Mel or whatever happened in their past—it’s about the fact that maybe I don’t know him as well as I thought I did. That maybe I’ve imagined him to be someone he’s not.

  “Michael…” I shift my weight. “I didn’t know that Mel was your ex-wife. I don’t know how I didn’t figure it out, but I didn’t.”

  Even though the room is dark, lit only by the light from the tiny corridor window, I can see the apprehension etched on his face as I speak.

  “And she told me, a while back…” I swallow. Fuck, how do I say this? “She told me something and I want to know if it’s true.”

  “Okay.” He scratches his head. “What was it?”

  “She told me…” I draw an uneven breath. “She told me that you cheated on her and broke up your family.”

  He’s quiet. I wait for him to look ashamed, but he doesn’t. “Melanie told you I cheated on her?”

  I nod.

  A muscle ticks in his neck as he clenches his jaw. “What did she say, exactly?”

  “She said she caught you in bed with someone else and that you said she wasn’t enough for you.”

  His eyes widen incredulously. “Fucking hell.” He slumps down into a chair, pressing his fingertips to his temples. “I cannot believe this.”

  I lower myself into the chair beside him.

  “Did she tell you that so you’d stay away from me?”

  “I don’t think so. She told me before she even knew that I knew you.”

  He wipes a hand down his face. “Well, that explains why Cat hates me,” he mutters. “Shit, this is so typical of Melanie. I should have known she’d pull a stunt like this.”

  His words ignite a spark of hope in me. “So it’s not true?”

  “No,” he says, his hands curling into fists in his lap. “She cheated. I found texts on her phone. She was having an affair with some guy from her office.”

  Relief shudders through me. I exhale slowly, trying to make sense of this. “But… why would she lie?”

  He gives a harsh laugh. “Because she wants the attention and the sympathy. Because she’s too proud to admit she fucked up our whole marriage. Because she’s angry with me.”

  If I think of the way she just spoke to him, “angry” is an understatement. I’ve never seen someone so enraged, as if Michael had been deliberately trying to poison his own son.

  “Why is she angry with you?”

  “Because I refused to stay with her.”

  “You couldn’t trust her?”

  “Yeah, that, and it brought out a nasty side to her. I saw who she really was. I didn’t want to break up our family, believe me, but I also didn’t want to stay with her just for Henry’s sake when I didn’t love her, or even respect her, anymore. That’s why she’s been trying to take Henry away from me. She’s angry and bitter.”

  I run my eyes over Michael’s anguished face. This is what she does to him: she breaks him down. There’s an ache in my chest and I reach for his hand, squeezing it. “Why didn’t you tell me what happened with her?”

  He gives a despondent shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t feel right bad-mouthing her.”

  “What?” I marvel at his kindness. “It seems to me like she deserves it. Besides, it’s not bad-mouthing if it’s true.”

  He nods sadly, staring at the floor. The hurt in his eyes makes my throat close with sorrow. How could someone be so cruel to this man? And how could I have been so stupid to even consider it could be true?

  “Michael.” I’m trying to keep the emotion out of my voice, but he hears it and looks at me in surprise.

  “Hey,” he murmurs, slipping out of his chair and onto his knees on the floor in front of me. It reminds me of the first time we made love and I reach for him, pulling him close, blinking against tears.

  “I’m never going to let you feel like that again,” I murmur into his neck, and his arms tighten around me. “You deserve so much better.” I smooth my hands over his back, kissing his cheek, holding him tight. I don’t know what else to say, how else to show him that it’s okay that he’s a bit broken—that I’m a bit broken too, and if he lets me, I’ll put his pieces back together and keep him safe from that ever happening again.

  Well, there is one thing I want to say—something that’s been coming to me for a while now—but I don’t dare let myself say it.

  “Alex, baby.” He draws back and his eyes are shining as he brushes his thumb over my cheek. “I know that as long as I’m with you, I won’t feel that way again.” He presses his mouth to mine in a soft, sweet kiss, then gathers me into his arms.

  We hold each other in the dark room for some time, listening to the bustle of the corridor outside. Eventually, Michael lets out a weary sigh and stands, pulling me up.

  “It’s going to be a long night. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

  I survey his tired face. I don’t want to be anywhere else, but I also don’t want to overstep. “Do you want me to stay?”

  He gives me a tiny nod and I slip my hand into his.

  “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

  We wander back out into the corridor, blinking in the bright light. Hand-in-hand, we turn and head back towards Henry’s room. I’m not looking forward to seeing Mel again, but I’m sure Michael wants to confront her about her lies.

  Just as we are about to reach Henry’s room, the door swings open and a guy steps out. He’s tall and lean, with dark mussed hair and a silver chain glinting from under his leather jacket. He strides past us and my eyes follow him curiously.

  He looks so familiar. Where do I know…

  Mark. That’s Mark. That’s Cat’s ex-husband.

  A chill rushes over my skin as I put the pieces together.

  Surely not. She wouldn’t.

  But when my gaze swings back to Henry’s door, Mel is standing there with her arms folded and her eyes narrowed to slits.

  I glance at Michael, numb with shock, but he didn’t even notice Mark pass us. He’s staring at the floor, rubbing his chin, no doubt planning what he’s going to say to Mel.

  Because she is fucking unbelievable. Not only did she lie about Michael cheating, she’s also lying to Cat.

  What. A. Bitch.

  Mel steps out of the room, pulling Henry’s door closed behind her. Her narrowed gaze is trained on me, but I don’t care. I haven’t done anything wrong, and any second now Michael is going to lay into her.

  Her eyes flit to Michael and her beautiful face twists into a scowl. “Mike,” she snarls. The way she says his name makes my skin crawl. “The doctor came in and wanted to speak to us. But you were off, fuck knows where.”

  I watch Michael expectantly, waiting for the anger I saw in him a few moments ago, but he just sighs. “Why didn’t you co
me and find me?”

  “Because that’s not my job. A decent father would have been here.”

  My lips part in shock. I can’t believe she would say that to him. Anger prickles hot under my skin as she continues her vicious tirade.

  “Poor Henry is in there, suffering, but do you care?” She rolls her eyes. “No. You’re thinking only about yourself. Typical, selfish Mike, who—”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” The words slice through the air, stopping Mel mid-rant, and it takes me a second to realize they’ve come from me. “Don’t speak to him like that. Don’t you dare speak to him like that.”

  She arches an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  “You don’t get to talk to him like that anymore. He’s the best man I’ve ever met, and you are just a liar.” I turn to Michael, ready for him to step in, but he’s giving me a wary look.

  Fine. Alright. I’ll get the ball rolling.

  “He knows you’ve been lying, telling people that he was the one who cheated, when—”

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Mel snaps, her eyes blazing. “What happens between my husband and I—”

  “Your ex-husband,” I correct. “And it is my business if it’s a lie that’s still causing damage.”

  Mel opens and closes her mouth, momentarily wrong-footed, then her gaze cuts to Michael. “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her the truth,” he mutters. “She seemed to be under the impression that I was responsible for our marriage falling apart.”

  I squeeze Michael’s hand and when he squeezes back, I feel a swell of triumph. Right. Time for him to put her in her place, once and for all.

  “Well, you could have tried harder, Mike,” Mel spits. “This is your problem—you don’t try hard enough.”

  “Look, I know I’m not perfect,” he says. “But—”

  There’s a noise from Henry’s room and Michael drops my hand, pushing past Mel and in through the door. I go to follow after him, but Mel’s manicured claws curl around my arm and I freeze.

  “We’re not done,” she hisses as the door to Henry’s room swings closed.

  I feel a dart of panic at being alone in the corridor with her. It was one thing when I had Michael beside me, but now I begin to shrink.

  “It’s a shame you’re involved with Mike now, right when Justin was about to offer you that column.”

  What?

  I step back to examine her face, trying to read her expression. She has to be lying. Justin would have called or emailed me if I’d gotten the column. No, she’s just using something she knows I want to manipulate me. God, Michael was right. She’s the worst.

  “I don’t believe you,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “Justin would have contacted me if I’d gotten it.”

  “Oh, he will. But you, unfortunately, will be unable to accept.”

  I force out a breath, suddenly exhausted. “Fine. Whatever. Then I’ll talk to him about writing something else.” I glance over her shoulder to Henry’s room, hoping he’s okay.

  “I don’t think so. We don’t just offer out jobs at random, Alex.”

  Her words drag my attention back to her and I wonder, for a fleeting second, what if she’s not lying? What if I have been offered the position, after all this work, only to have it taken away from me?

  “You know,” she continues, watching me carefully, “it’s not at all surprising that Mike would try to do this to your career.”

  My heart jolts. I know she’s trying to bait me and I should resist, but for some stupid reason I can’t. “What?”

  “He tried to sabotage my career, many times. He was always threatened by my success. It’s sad that he’s still up to his usual tricks.”

  I swallow. “He’s not trying to destroy my career.”

  “Oh really? He must have known you were trying to get this column. And he’ll also be aware that you won’t be able to write it if you’re not single.”

  My brain reminds me of the conversation Michael and I had in the car, when he suggested I don’t accept the position if I’m offered it, and there’s a twist in my gut. But—no. That wasn’t him sabotaging me. He’s not like that.

  I lift my chin, trying not to let her get under my skin. What was it Michael said? She’s a master at manipulation. “Mel—”

  “If you continue to see Mike, I’ll have no choice but to tell Justin. He’ll be extremely interested to know what’s going on.”

  “I could say the same to you,” I mutter.

  Her perfect brows slant together. “I’m sorry?”

  “I’m sure Cat would be interested to know what’s going on with Mark.”

  Her eyes narrow. For a second I think she’s going to slap me, but she simply says, “Is that a threat?”

  I open my mouth to speak but she cuts me off.

  “I’d be very careful if I were you, Alex.” She glares at me for another second before stalking off down the corridor.

  I stare after her, trying to calm my erratic breathing and racing pulse. I’m not great with confrontation at the best of times, but when it’s your new lover’s beautiful ex-wife who is dead-set on destroying your career, it’s even worse.

  No, I tell myself firmly. I’m not going to let her win. She’s a liar, and I’m not going to believe a word out of her mouth.

  I shake it off and slip into Henry’s room, relieved to see Henry is peacefully asleep, Michael seated beside the bed. I ponder the back of him, slumped forward with his head in his hands, and feel a wash of confusion. Why didn’t he stand up to Mel? I expected more from him back there. I know she’s terrifying, but fuck—if anyone should be angry about her behavior, it’s him. So why didn’t he put her in her place?

  He looks up, giving me a tired smile as I wander over, then he reaches an arm around my waist and rests his head against my side. I stroke a hand over his hair, leaning to press a kiss to the top of his head.

  It doesn’t matter about Mel and all her shit. This is what matters. This right here.

  39

  They release Henry in the morning, and Michael and I bring him home in a cab. He’s completely fine—his usual, chatty self—and I’m so relieved. When we get in the building, Michael sends him upstairs and pauses with me in the lobby.

  “Thanks for staying with us. I’m sorry everything was so weird at the hospital.”

  I shake my head, pushing Mel’s threats from my mind. “Don’t be silly. It was a crazy, stressful night. I’m just glad Henry is okay.”

  “Me too.” He leans in to kiss me but stops himself with a yawn.

  “Bored of me already?” I joke, and he chuckles.

  “Not even close. But right now I need to sleep. Want to come up tonight, once Henry’s asleep?”

  I nod eagerly.

  “Good. I’ll text you later.” He lowers his mouth to mine in a long, delicious kiss.

  There’s a noise at the front door, and we draw apart to see Agnes entering the lobby. Heat paints my cheeks and when I glance at Michael, he’s pink too.

  “Good morning, Agnes,” we mumble in unison, like a pair of children caught doing something naughty.

  “Seems like a very good morning indeed,” she says wryly as she ambles past.

  Michael and I exchange a grin. He takes her arm to help her up the steps, and blows me a kiss over her head.

  With a happy sigh, I let myself into the empty apartment. Cat is at work, but when she gets home later I want to talk to her about Mel. I need to tell her about Mark—about all the lies Mel has been spinning.

  Fuck, I’m exhausted. I pad over to my nook, collapse face-first onto my bed and pass out.

  It’s late afternoon when I’m woken by my phone vibrating on the nightstand. My first thought is that it could be Michael, so I lunge on it without even checking who’s calling.

  Big mistake.

  “Alexis?” Mum’s voice comes on the line and I wilt against my pillow.

  “Hi, Mum,” I mumble.

  “
Hello, darling! How are you?”

  My mind wanders to the kiss from Michael on my doorstep this morning and I smile. “I’m good.”

  “That’s good. And how’s the writing going?”

  I hesitate, surprised. My parents have never asked about my writing before. I never even told them about the articles I’ve been writing for Bliss Edition, despite what a big deal it is for me. Perhaps I was worried Mum would fly into a blind panic again and start ranting about how I’m running out of time and need to find a man before my ovaries shrivel to raisins.

  My fingers go to the book charm around my neck. Mum does seem to be trying, asking after my writing. Maybe she wants to be more supportive.

  “Well, I’ve been writing a few articles for a high-profile woman’s website, and there was talk of it possibly becoming a regular feature.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Yeah. But… I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything, and I thought I would by now.” I sigh, thinking of Mel’s words. “Maybe it’s not meant to be.”

  “Well, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I feel a zing of irritation. Here we go. “What?”

  “You know, moving all the way to New York, thinking you’ll build a whole new career as a writer...”

  I raise my eyes to the ceiling. “It’s not a whole new career, Mum. I did work at the paper for several years, remember?”

  “But that was just a little paper, darling. It’s a bit unrealistic to think it would lead to some big, fancy New York job.”

  I give an exasperated sigh. I don’t have the energy to explain that it’s not a big fancy job—and it’s not like she’d listen. She doesn’t believe I can do it and that’s all there is to it.

  Anyway, maybe she’s right. After all the articles I’ve written for Justin, I’ve heard nothing about the position. I’ve got nothing to show for my time over here.

 

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