I’m overwhelmed by so many feelings and tears trickle down my cheeks. I look to my side and notice the flowers are gone, and she realises what I’m looking at and whispers, “They’re gone. They’re binned. I got rid of them. I don’t know how he found out about us, I don’t. Perhaps because Adam put something on Facebook last week about your play and there was a picture of us all together at the Ivy afterwards. But I swear, I haven’t spoken to him or even tried to since we split up. I don’t want him in my life. I just want you to know, I only kept them because I’m hanging on to some hope that the baby I lost meant something… that maybe, he’ll get better now… that he’s going to change. I’m just clinging to hope, Theo.”
“He’s many things but one thing he isn’t is stupid. He sent them because he knew I’d see them and he knew I’d understand what they mean. He’s just trying to get between us, Lily! He knows you still love him. That the only reason I’m standing here now is because he fucked up.”
“Fine, okay. Okay. I admit, that teenage girl I was, she will always love him, but I’m not her anymore. I’m too wise now, too educated. I’ve said goodbye to her, I’ve had to. I’ve grown up and it hurts waving goodbye to your past.”
“But you still love him?”
“Don’t you,” she asks, desperately, “don’t we all? In the way that all people love the kids they grew up with because it was a time in our lives that was special and fraught with hormones and exams and parental issues… and we were all there for each other.”
She comes to me and gently wraps her arms around me, looking up at my weary face.
“But you still love him, Lily.”
“Yes,” she whispers, “like a flower loves its forgotten memories from the previous summer, wishing they could be retrieved, but they can’t. I love him, but I’m not in love with him. I wish him well but I don’t wish him to return to my life. I wish what he did hadn’t hurt me so much, but if he hadn’t shook me up, I wouldn’t have felt suddenly brave enough to be with the one man I’ve always known would change me, make me better, take me into his heart and soul and swallow me whole until there’s no separating us, there’s just us.”
“I see something in you,” I mutter, “something that makes me feel protective and at the same time ruffles me. I see myself. I see a soul like mine. I’ve always seen you. I can’t unsee you, like I could never unlove you. I don’t ever want to lose you, it would tear me apart. My love for you is eternal and pure. I could never, ever contemplate doing the things he did and if I saw him again, I would kill him, Lily. I would kill him. Because that’s how much I love you. That’s how much you’re in me. You’re mine and I won’t have any reminders of him in our lives. He’s your past, I have to be your future.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me. “Just take me to bed, Theo. Please.”
Our lovemaking is tender and laced with anguish, tears and an unfurling of truth. She loves me as carefully as I love her and we never let go of one another as we roll around the bed, finding new places to hold one another and kiss, caress… love.
As we lie together in the aftermath, wrapped tightly together, she says, “Can’t help but feel like we owe everything to Susan.”
My heart pounds hard in my chest and I grumble, “Bloody woman.”
She kisses my nose and murmurs, “Can’t help but feel like he’s got a good one there, but whatever her issues, I feel like there’s a shit-ton of them.”
I hold her close and kiss her neck, nuzzling my favourite part of her.
“I hope they figure it out or Adam won’t survive it. He loves her so much.”
“He’s almost as bad as you,” she giggles.
“Yeah, I love you, and will do until my dying breath, but I still wouldn’t take half the shit he has. Not that you would do the same things to me, not that your dad has any money or anything…?”
I search her eyes and she laughs her head off. “No dowry, I am afraid.”
“Drat,” I say, laughing, “drat. I was hoping for at least three cows.”
“Three? I would’ve hoped you’d be going for ten, at least.”
“Twelve,” I counter.
“Fifty,” she says, grinning, pinning me down and holding me hostage, like she’s always had me… and will… forever more.
Chapter Twenty
~LILY~
Six months into our relationship, it’s February and the flat is absolutely freezing. We spend our days and nights cuddled up in bed or huddled in front of the wood burner. I’ve adopted wearing entirely woollen things, most of which I steal from him.
We are so wrapped up in one another. I love him so much, it hurts. Sometimes he will sit and rub my feet for an hour, or my shoulders, or my hands. We are entirely in love and sickeningly joined, in every way possible.
Right now, we’re both off work for a month. The part he was vying for in New York fell through, but that didn’t matter. Gustav’s version of Hamlet went on tour around the UK during the autumn and into the festive period, finishing just before Christmas. Soon after Hamlet finished, Theo got a call about auditioning for a film… and he got it. He’s shooting it in London, next month. We don’t have to be separated and he’s more than ready to get back to work.
I quit my job just before Christmas and moved to London to be with Theo. His mother has disowned him and vowed to leave her money to his aunt, Karen. Neither Karen nor Theo have said anything to Allegra, but they have an understanding where the money will definitely come to Theo and he will use it wisely.
Allegra has stage four bowel cancer and that’s why she’s really been frail and bitter and troublesome. She could have told us. I would’ve happily met her to take her to appointments… whenever, wherever, if it meant giving Theo an easier ride, but we only found out because Karen told Theo, a last-ditch effort and breach of Allegra’s trust – trying to get him to come home and make peace. He did try to make peace, but yet again she tried to come between us by vowing to cut him off if he stays with me.
He excuses her sometimes, when he’s drunk and tired and feeling the brunt of it. I often wonder if the disease takes so much, even some people’s sanity sometimes – that in truth, she knows not what she does. Then I remember the callous way she’d leave on holiday without her only son, and I don’t feel sorry for her anymore. You reap what you sow… and her last days will be spent alone, afraid and bedridden, with only a put-upon carer and a diligent sister for company… when she could have had so much more. I even once called her to ask why she hates me so much… and she said she doesn’t care enough to hate; just that she doesn’t want any other benefiting from her legacy. I truly pitied her that day because she either never knew love, or never had the capacity to feel it when she had it, judging everyone else on their obvious money-grubbing tendencies… because that’s who she is… so that’s what everyone else must be, too. Projection… it’s filthy psychology.
I’m wearing Theo’s hairy cardigan and heavy jeans, my thick riding socks that come up to my shins and three or four t-shirts beneath the cardigan. The oversized armchair is my domain as I tackle the Sunday Times crossword. Meanwhile Theo is stretched out on the couch with a blanket covering his legs, his body swaddled in similar items to me, a beanie added. He’s reading all the Sunday supplements.
He still has a little tan left over from our Christmas break. We spent two glorious weeks in the sunny Bahamas. I still haven’t told him about the gift I’m carrying in my belly that he gave me during our trip. It’s my little secret, for now. He may have realised for all I know. He’s observant and will have figured out I haven’t had a period in over a month. Still, I like to think it’s just me and bub against the world… that nothing can touch us while we quietly commune. Once I’ve had the scan and I know everything is okay, I’ll tell Theo and finally, I’ll be able to believe, too.
“Will you pass me the Style magazine, my love,” he asks, and I scorn him for making me move out of my warm chair.
I pick up the magazine a
nd chuck it at him, at the same time as something rolls across the coffee table towards me, formerly concealed by the thing I just lobbed at him.
“Theo…?”
“Yes…?”
“What’s this?”
I look closer and see a blue velvet box.
No, it can’t be. It must be just one of the boxes he keeps his cufflinks in, left lying around. We were at a theatre gala the other night… and it…
He sits up on the sofa, eyebrow raised, expectant, while I regard the box like it’s a bomb or something.
Then he realises I’m not moving and actually, I’m terrified of the little box.
What does it mean?
He covers his mouth for a moment, but I can see his grin, then he takes up the box in his hand and knocks his fists against his knees, getting up out of his warm cocoon to get down on one knee before me.
I’m shocked beyond anything to be watching him do this. I’m… pretty much sandpaper-mouthed when he says, “Lily, you’re my love, my only one, the person I shall dedicate myself to… the lady I have admired for so many years. And still, my love grows more every day. It grows truer, it grows better, it grows wiser. I can’t imagine my life without you. Will you marry me?”
He opens the box and my heart is already banging hard, but then it’s literally a thud in my ear suddenly when I see a big rock on a beautiful, platinum band. I stare, transfixed, in awe.
“Did you ask my father?” I whisper, my breath almost gone.
“Yes,” he says, “months ago. We talked. I said if I ever were to ask, would he be okay with it? That I didn’t know when I would ask, but it would likely be a day like any other, when you’d be least expecting it.”
I grin and can’t help a few small tears. “What did he say?”
“He said if anyone had ever put a smile on your face it was definitely me and that he would be okay with it.”
I start nodding and say, “Yes, yes, I’ll marry you.”
He hands me the ring and I place it on my finger. It fits perfectly.
“I sized you when you were sleeping. You’ve been hibernating good lately, so thank you for that,” he says chuckling.
“Oh my god, it’s perfect. I love you so much.”
I fall off the armchair and into his lap, throwing my arms around him and kissing his mouth hard and fierce.
He puts his cold hands immediately up my shirt and fondles my swinging breasts. I screech with shock and try to back away, but as his hands warm so do my insides and I want him so badly.
He takes me to the bed and throws me down, drags the clothes off my lower body and tosses my legs apart, licking the slit between my thighs without any warning. I dig my hands in his hair and lie under his caress, enjoying every second, rocking my hips gently into his touch. His tender kiss turns me to pure ecstasy and I writhe under his tongue as he draws a blissful, piercing orgasm from my body, the intimacy and the skill of his mouth all I need to get off.
Theo removes his clothes as I remove the things covering my top half. We slide under the covers and I climb on top, kissing him wildly as I ride his delicious, delectable, rock-hard cock.
Out of nowhere my hands are pinned behind my back and I’m upright, my boobs bouncing wildly as he bucks up at me, his stem filling me full. The sweat between my breasts drips onto his stomach as I watch his magnificent body in charge of mine until I can take no more. Tipping my head back I give myself up to it and let him have his way, his cum coating my vagina so thickly, just the sensation of that makes me squeeze tight around his cock, again and again and again.
We cuddle up so tight afterwards and he stares at the ring and how it looks on my finger.
“I don’t want a big wedding. The smaller, the better.”
“Thank god,” he groans.
“I just want to be married to you, the big event thing doesn’t interest me.”
“I agree. I just want to be married to you.”
Our warmth, our intimacy, our bond… is all I will ever need.
“Theo?” I ask, and he ceases kissing my throat to look at me.
“Yes?”
“I’ve decided to write a book. Or two. Maybe three. What do you think?”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I think that’s unbelievable. Do you have an idea?”
“I have a few.”
“I can’t wait to read it.”
“I’m glad. But if it doesn’t work out, I’m going to start my own counselling service. It might mean a bit of night school, but I’ve got loads of options down here, right?”
“Tons,” he grins, “but I’m excited to find out what becomes of this book idea.”
“Me too, me too.”
He shoots across the room and pulls his jeans back on. “I’ll go out and get champagne. What else do you want? Name it.”
I purse my lips and shake my head. “Hold the champagne, Theo.”
“Yeah, why?”
I stare at him. It doesn’t click, at all.
“What, don’t you like bubbles? Should I get you some gin… or wine? What?”
I giggle because I’ve been getting them in for the past couple of weeks and always ordering myself lemonade when he’s not looking, later telling him it’s gin and tonic.
Eventually his smile turns to something knowing and I shake my head. “How long have you known?”
“A week,” he said, “but it had nothing to do with my proposal. I’ve been planning this for ages. Today is our six-month anniversary.”
“Well, in that case, get back into bed so we can celebrate some more and some more and some more. Then, after that, we can go out for some pub grub. How about it?”
He drops his jeans and I watch my sleek, tall warrior climb back into bed with me and soften when he puts his hand on my stomach.
“I say that sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”
“It sounds perfect,” I groan, as he nips my nipple. “I’m incessantly horny, Theo.”
“And I’m going to take advantage…”
To be continued…
The Bad Series continues with
BAD WIFE
Available to order NOW!
Turn the pages for a preview…
Thank You
I really hope you enjoyed this book and that you will visit Amazon or Goodreads to show it some love with a review. What I can promise you as this series progresses is that you will be hooked, shocked and surprised as we venture further into these people’s lives.
I wrote these books to be binged, to be enjoyed, to be devoured and re-read as you come to discover more and more about everyone involved.
I promise a journey you will never forget.
Sarah x
Bad Wife – A Preview
Dressed in black, the skirt of her dress puffy and pretty, but the colour dour and depressing, the little red ribbon in her hair was all that stood out. The daughter of Polish immigrants, dark and beautiful, her physique perfect for ballet she’d been told numerous times (if not for a pair of weak knees sustained from meningitis), Susan was already a great beauty at eight years old. To a certain extent, a lot of what was going on around her went unnoticed by her childish eyes. As far as she was concerned, she was dressed up pretty and off to a party. One for her mummy. Her dead mummy.
She held Daddy’s hand in the car and as they sat in the pews. When they sang songs and prayed, she remained seated, wondering when her time to shine would come.
Back at their mansion, which Daddy had built himself once his construction business was thriving, she waited for the moment to come.
It never came.
Nobody wanted to see her sing and dance that day.
Mummy was gone.
People milled around and ate little bits of food off a plate. There were no other children to play with and only sad, dejected husks wandering around their big, beautiful house.
Once everyone was gone, she said to Daddy, “Can we go to McDonald’s?”
“Okay, angel,” he said, his thick accent not softening with the years.
Her mother had adopted a little of the Yorkshire twang that Susan spoke, but Daddy was still the same old guy, same old beaming eyes, balding head and sure hands.
She had a Happy Meal while her dad picked at his fries.
“Why are you sad, Daddy?” she asked, not understanding.
“I’m very sad I’m not going to see Mummy again.”
“I know.” She looked down at her lap, because that’s what sad people do.
“We have each other… and we have to believe Mummy is happy, and free of pain, wherever she is.”
Her mother Alicja died of something Daddy had called an auto-immune disease. It was one of the reasons they came to the UK before Susan was born, so that her mummy could get better medical care. Susan was named after her grandmother Zuzanna, her mother having decided it was better to pick the English equivalent. Zuzanna was Alicja’s mother and had also died when she was very young. Susan wondered if she would die young, too although she’d had lots of tests and had been told that apart from the unfortunate bout of meningitis (due to the uncertainty of life and constant moving around when her parents were first in the UK – missing one of Susan’s booster jabs), Susan was very healthy and so far hadn’t shown any signs of having the same disease her mother and grandmother had died of.
After finishing her Happy Meal, her father took her home and she looked around the big house, wondering what there was to do.
“Daddy, I want to have a party.”
Bad Actor Page 16