“OK, I’ve got one.” I stood with her, holding my glass aloft. “To starting over.”
Olivia smiled and lifted her glass to join mine. “May your future days be better than any of your past ones.”
We touched glasses, causing the wine to spill a little. “Oh shit.”
Olivia waved it off and took a long drink from her glass before grabbing a cloth to wipe it up. “It’s a white, it won’t stain. Now drink. If we kill enough brain cells we might be able to forget today ever happened.”
“I am on board with that.” I tipped back my glass and drained half of the dry, fruity mix.
Olivia took the cloth back to the kitchen then returned with a fresh bottle and her phone. “Now,” she said, taking a seat on the couch. “We’re going to get you that divorce attorney. I do have someone in mind for you. She worked on my second divorce, and Anthony didn’t get a single penny more than I was willing to give him.” Olivia tapped away at her phone as she spoke. “Her name is Marie Jordan, and she runs a small boutique firm specialising in family law. Divorce is her specialty.”
“Is she married?”
“Happily. A surprise, right? I’m sending you her details now so you can set up an appointment. Best to be the one who files so he’s forced to be the respondent.”
“OK.” I heard the message chime on my phone go off, signalling the text she just sent me. “I’ll call tomorrow.”
“Good. And we’ll organise a moving van to get your stuff this weekend. We know plenty of cops who’ll be willing to stand there and glare at Jack-Arse. Then, I don’t know, we can put it all in storage or something—just make sure you don’t leave him with much.”
I drained the rest of my drink. “At this point, I really don’t think I want anything.”
“We can burn it if you want. The point is that he doesn’t get it.”
Leaning back on the couch, I groaned. “This line of conversation isn’t helping me forget about today.”
“I know. I’m sorry. What would you rather talk about?”
“I don’t know—talk about work. Better yet, let’s pull up real estate listings so I don’t have to sleep on your couch anymore.”
“Oh honey, you can stay here as long as you like. You know, I can clear out the study.”
I laughed. “That room is no bigger than a jail cell, but thank you. I think I just need to find my own space so I start embracing this new single life—my new normal.”
“OK. If that’s what you want. Let’s get drunk and shop apartments.” She pulled up realestate.com, and I topped up our glasses.
8
The next weekend was spent moving house. With my reduced income, coupled with the financial burden of still paying half the mortgage to a house I no longer lived in, there wasn’t much in the city that worked within my budget. I found a one-bedroom apartment literally up the road from Olivia. It was shoebox tiny, but it was mine. And the complex had a rooftop pool and a big gym included in the cost, so I was pretty happy with it.
I’d hired a moving van and collected everything that was personally mine from the house—the sideboard that had been my grandmother’s, my lipstick collection, and the lifetime’s worth of stuff that seemed to pile up when you stayed in one place for too long. I’d been expecting another confrontation with Jack, but he’d been thankfully absent for the duration of my move. He was probably off staying with some new girlfriend or something… The idea of it made me feel sick to the stomach. I hated that he was the one who caused this clusterfuck and didn’t seem to be facing a single repercussion. It was all on me. I was the one starting from scratch. I was the one trying to sort through my mess of a life. It just didn’t seem fair. There was more than one moment during the day when I really did want to take Olivia’s advice and set the whole damn house on fire. But then, I’d end up in prison for arson and Jack would look like the victim again. No thank you.
In total, I probably filled only half the moving van with my things. As much as Olivia had pleaded with me to leave him with nothing, I just couldn’t do it. I honestly didn’t want stuff that reminded me of him. And I wasn’t spiteful enough to take it just for the sake of it. Instead, I took a trip to IKEA and bought myself everything I needed: a brand-new bed, dining table, lounge suite, desk, shelving, among other things. It all barely fit inside my tiny apartment, but once it was put together—an absolute marathon where I never wanted to see an IKEA Allen key again—it felt more like a home. Or at the very least, it felt like a page out of an IKEA catalogue. And that was fine with me, because the people in those pictures were always super happy with their storage choices.
“Do you know what the best part about this place is?” Olivia asked, slouching on my new sunshine-yellow couch while eating a slice of Domino’s pizza.
“What’s that?”
“We can still get drunk together and not have to worry about a ride home.”
“We can sit on our respective building’s roofs and drink while on the phone, watching each other through a set of binoculars,” I joked, sitting on the chair opposite her and grabbing a slice myself. Super Supreme, deep pan crust. Each bite was pure heaven.
“You know, I think you might be onto something there.” She laughed, tucking her feet up underneath herself and looking around the room. “It looks really great, Cor. It seems more like you than anywhere you’ve lived before.”
“You think?” She nodded. “Thank you so much for all the help and support over these last few months. I know I’ve been a burden, but having you there has been everything to me.”
“Don’t even mention it. That’s what best friends are for.”
When Olivia went home, I spent some time unpacking boxes in my bedroom and sorting out my clothes. It was the first night in my own place. The first night I’ve ever had my own place. I’d either been at home with my family or living with Jack. I had never been by myself. The quiet was…unsettling.
I thought about Olivia and how much she loved being single and having time to herself. Then I thought about the many years I’d spent with Jack, thinking we were going to grow old together, believing I was enough for him. Pieces of our relationship started slotting together, creating a clearer picture of what we really were, well, what I was anyway. I was a cinch. I was so enamoured by the fact a beautiful man wanted me, I didn’t see it, didn’t see the narcissist I’d aligned myself with. It was always about him. Nothing was ever his fault. All those work trips and late-night deadlines. I couldn’t question him about his whereabouts without a fight—he called me unsupportive and selfish when I did. With what I now knew, I felt sure he must have been sleeping with other women then too. Had I really been that blind? Was he deflecting his guilt onto me so I wouldn’t catch him out? And, if he’d been cheating for years, why marry me? Why bother after refusing for so long?
Sitting on my bed, I ran a hand through my hair and pushed out a breath that was loaded with stress and betrayal.
Jack hurt me, used his words to poke at me until I was broken-down. Subservient. He’d focused only on his happiness. It was always ‘what could I do to make Jack happy?’ It was never what was Jack doing to make me happy? I felt stupid. Broken. I’d trusted him, loved him; I believed…
A drop of water hit my forearm before I realised I was crying. I rubbed at my eyes, angry I was wasting more tears on a man capable of treating me horribly for so long then throwing me away—destroying me—without a single thought for how his actions would affect me. He simply hadn’t cared.
It had taken eleven years for me to see that. Eleven wasted years. Now my eyes were open and it was all I could see. Jack had never given a shit about anyone but himself, least of all me. I felt like such an idiot.
Wiping my hands over my face, I stood and shuffled into the bathroom, deciding that a hot shower would go a long way to calming my mind, along with the aches in my body from a weekend filled with lifting boxes and putting furniture together. I didn’t want to think about Jack anymore, didn’t want to feel the d
efeated and angry churning in my stomach that his actions had caused. I wanted to forget. I wanted to focus on starting again. It was time I learned how to be on my own and worry about me for a change.
As I lathered my hair, I knew I never wanted to go through that experience again. Marriage seemed like a mixed bag where you never knew what you’d get, and it didn’t feel worth it to me. My parents had what seemed like an ideal yet traditional marriage. My mother stayed home to raise me and my brother—who now lived in New Zealand with his wife and three kids. And after we grew up, Mum trained to be a dental nurse. My father was an accountant, and while he wasn’t the most present father in the world, he cared about us, and I’d never doubted the love between him and Mum. That was the ideal I grew up with, and I supposed that’s what I’d expected from Jack as well—long-term companionship. But then, was it really that great? Mum was so much happier once she got out of the house and started earning her own income. She became a different person once we finished school… Maybe their ideal wasn’t an ideal at all?
Then there was Olivia and her two failed marriages. She saw marriage as a shackle that held her back from the true life she wanted, felt that being attached to a man took away her freedom. And now as I looked back on my own marriage, I wondered if marriage was worth it for a woman at all. It seemed we always sacrificed or shelved our life goals, while the man had freedom to build a life not determined by keeping house and the idea of having children. I’d spent my twenties focused on my career, wanting to progress as far as I could, as quickly as I could, so I could build a family and return to the workforce with a good income and position waiting for me. Even working around the clock, keeping more strenuous hours than Jack, I was still the one working my arse off at home, making sure there was enough food, and cleaning the fucking bathrooms. Once we had a cleaner, but she’d quit after a month. I’d bet Jack tried to fuck her too. God, that man! He ruined everything. I never, never wanted to be tied down like that again. It was freedom for me, freedom all the way.
Getting out of the shower, I dried off and headed to my drawers to get dressed feeling resolute in my decision to be a single and independent woman. I doubted I could embrace all of Olivia’s lifestyle choices—I wasn’t sure that I was comfortable hunting for younger men to bed on a regular basis—but I could definitely be happy with a relationship-free lifestyle.
Pulling my drawers open, the movement knocked my phone enough to activate the screen, showing me I had a missed call from my mum. She was probably calling to check that the move went OK, so I shot her off a text that said everything went well and that I’d call her after I’d had a chance to catch up on some sleep. I put my phone back on the drawers facedown so I could forget about the outside world and try to enjoy my first night alone in my own place.
Taking a moment, I looked around the small bedroom, studying the brightly coloured items I’d chosen. They were the antithesis of anything I’d chosen during my time living with Jack. Everything had been greys and neutrals. Now, everywhere had bursts of colour. From the large art print on my wall to the colourful splotches all over my quilt cover. It looked great. Even my towel was a bright orange.
This wonderful surge of happiness bubbled up inside me and I spun around in a small circle, hugging myself because I was proud. I’d been through a harrowing weekend, and despite a tiny cry earlier, I hadn’t fallen apart. I was OK. I was more than OK. I was an independent woman; hear me roar! Tipping my head back, I did just that, roaring into the quiet of the room then giggling at the absurdity. I was acting a little crazy, but I didn’t care. There wasn’t anyone around to see but me.
With a smile on my face I dropped my towel on the floor, not caring that it might bother anyone. As I lifted my gaze to the chest of drawers in search of clothes, I caught sight of myself in the mirror on top of it. More notably, I caught sight of the almost-faded love bite on my breast. It stopped me in my tracks, and I stared.
Running my fingertips over it, I had to admit that Olivia’s ‘catch, fuck, and release program’ had its perks. That night with Green-eyes was the only positive this whole mess had amassed thus far. Every time I thought about it, I felt the stress of everything float away as my body ignited, remembering his touch, his gripping need.
I had never done anything like that before. It had taken me over a month before I felt comfortable enough to have sex with Jack. Although, back then, I’d been a virgin. But the passion, the passion of that night with Green-eyes was indescribable. I could write a thousand essays about it and never fully articulate that feeling I’d had inside me. I’d never felt so out of control, never been touched that fiercely. I didn’t know if it was my lack of experience, or if we’d somehow ignited when we’d touched. But I did know that I would never stop thinking about it. That night was my new happy place.
Digging inside my drawer, I found the bottle of aftershave and held it to my nose, closing my eyes as I inhaled and conjured him up in my mind. An instant tingle rippled over my body, pebbling my nipples, swelling my core. Desire calmed my mind, and knowing I was blissfully alone, I put the bottle back in my drawers then slipped into my new bed naked. I imagined the way it felt to have his hands on my body, craving his touch inside. The throbbing between my legs grew more intense at the vividness of my thoughts, making my mind stray to that funny pink gift I’d insisted I’d never use. Olivia had insisted it needed to be kept in my bedside drawer ‘just in case’.
Biting at my lip, it only took me a moment before I decided to give that strange contraption a try. There were speed buttons beneath the power button, and when I turned it on, I held it against my palm to test the pressure while adjusting the speed. The moment it hit something that matched the memory of what he did, I felt a bolt of desire between my thighs. I slid my hand beneath my sheets, parted my thighs, and touched the toy just near my most sensitive spot. Holy shit. It made my body twitch and the breath burst out of my throat. Hello, clitoris, meet your new best friend.
Moving it slightly, moans passed my lips as the orgasm built to a blinding height in less than sixty seconds. Then it broke loose, my back arching, my hips bucking, my whole body tingling from the intensity of it. It had taken me right back to that moment when Green-eyes had worked his magic. “Who said you couldn’t get as high the second time?” I asked myself, clicking off the unassuming-looking contraption and dropping it on the bed next to me. I laughed a little, spreading out on the big bed, my body feeling soft and sated, ready for the blissful lure of sleep.
As I drifted off, taking up all the space on that big new bed, it was with a satisfied smile on my face, welcoming dreams of a certain someone, making it a very pleasant first night indeed.
9
“You look very rosy this morning,” Olivia said when she met me out the front of her apartment building so we could catch the tram together to work. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you got laid last night.”
I grinned a secret grin then laughed. “No. I just had a really good sleep. It’s been a while since I could stretch out in a bed.”
“I suppose it makes a nice change from my couch.”
“It does. I think I’m going to like this living alone business.”
“It certainly has its virtues. What have you got on today?” she asked as we got on the tram and tapped our Myki cards.
We moved through the peak-hour crowd and found space for us both to stand. “A bunch of new cases landed on my desk just as I was packing up on Friday. I have to hand them all out and make sure none of the junior solicitors fuck it up. Plus, I have an intern who is still at uni coming in—God only knows how they pulled that one off.”
“They aren’t a part of the clerkship program?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I was told it’s ongoing and was approved by the director himself.”
“How very strange.”
“Right? One more person with no clue what they’re doing to babysit. I seriously feel like I’m dealing with children. What are they teaching at uni
versity these days? Surely we weren’t that bad when we started.”
“I can’t really speak for myself, but you were one of the better ones. Still, you weren’t without your faults. Need I remind you of that summary you wrote that was so vague I barely understood the charges?”
I winced. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“So, maybe cut the newbies some slack. If you can turn them into half the solicitor you are, then the director is going to be a very happy man.”
I smiled at the compliment then shifted as the tram stopped to let people on and off.
“Oh,” I started when we got moving again. “I called the office for that divorce attorney you put me on to. Turns out she’s retired.”
Olivia looked as though I’d slapped her. “Oh God, am I that old?” She appeared stricken.
“I think her retirement has more to do with her age than yours.” I laughed. “But, I do have an appointment with her replacement—some woman who’s transferred from Sydney. I haven’t had a chance to look into her yet.”
“Send me her details. I’ll check her stats while I’m at the courthouse this afternoon. I have the trial for that mugging we’ve been preparing for. Nasty piece of work. Stole the bag from a young mother and knocked the baby from her arms. He’s just lucky the little one is OK or he’d be up for a lot more than robbery and reckless assault on a minor.”
“That’s bad enough. Think you have enough to put him away?”
She nodded. Then tilted her head to indicate it was our stop.
Alighting the tram, we fell into step and headed for the coffee cart outside the court. “Do you ever get depressed because of our work?” I asked.
She glanced at me as she pulled her purse from her bag. “Because we deal with the scum of the earth on a daily basis?”
“Yeah. I saw a lot in my last role, but now that I’m responsible for handing out the cases, I’m realising the sheer volume of work that comes through our office, and that’s just the stuff that gets caught.”
Never Again Page 6