The Runaway Ex

by Shani Struthers

  Going through to the living room, she stripped the sofa bed, folded the linen, and then pushed the bed back into sofa mode. Sunlight streamed in through the French windows, but it did nothing to brighten her mood. She checked her phone again. Richard hadn’t bothered to reply to her text. Let him sulk—she wasn’t going to pander to him. Switching on the TV, she tried to concentrate on an episode of Eastenders that Hannah had previously recorded. The first episode finished, she started on another but fell asleep halfway through, her brain well and truly fried.

  Sometime later, she was brought back once again to reality by an agitated Layla.

  “Penny, wake up. I’ve found his phone. He left it in his jeans pocket. I heard it vibrating when I tried to ring it again.” Layla thrust the phone into Penny’s face as though she needed to verify her words.

  “What time is it?”

  “Time? Erm, it’s nearly three. Why?”

  Nearly three and still Richard hadn’t phoned or texted. The phone wasn’t on silent mode; she would have heard him if he had. A brief check proved her right.

  Forcing herself out of the stupor she’d been in, she said, “At least that explains why he hasn’t been in contact. I’d love to know what Richard’s excuse is.”

  Layla wasn’t listening. “Look, on the home screen, it lists all the calls missed from me, fifteen of them to be precise, and there’s a message from Tara too. ‘Text me five minutes before you arrive.’”

  Just then Layla’s phone beeped.

  “Hang on,” she said, looking from one hand, which held Joseph’s phone to the other, which held hers.

  “It’s a text from Joseph, sent from Tara’s phone.”

  “What does it say?” Penny leaned forward in anticipation.

  “‘It’s Joseph,’” Layla read out. “‘I’ve left my phone at home. I’m with Tara. I’ll be back soon.’”

  “Is that it?”

  Layla nodded. “Short and sweet,” she replied, her voice ladled with sarcasm.

  “Well, I don’t suppose he can wax lyrical on someone else’s phone.” Penny didn’t know why she was bothering to defend him.

  “So, he’s been with her all day. From early this morning until now. Why?”

  They’ve clearly got a lot to sort out, thought Penny, but she kept quiet.

  Layla looked up then, her green eyes narrow. “I know his security code. I can check to see if there are other messages from her.”

  Penny bit her lip. “But do you think you should? I mean, it’s a bit like looking at someone’s diary, isn’t it—looking at their phone?” There she was again, trying to protect him. But it shouldn’t be him she was trying to protect; it should be Layla. Under the circumstances, perhaps Layla had every right to look at his private messages. It might help her to discover the truth. And although the truth was going to hurt, it couldn’t be worse than living a lie…or with lies. Could it?

  “Do it,” she said at last.

  Layla hesitated for just a few seconds more, but then she went ahead. While she was reading Joseph and Tara’s text exchange, Penny kept her eyes on her, trying to gauge her reaction. Hoping against hope there’d be none.

  Just when she was thinking it was going to be okay, that there was nothing on Joseph’s phone to incriminate him, Layla’s face crumpled.

  Penny flew forward. “What is it? What have you found?”

  “Look for yourself,” was all Layla could manage to reply.

  Taking the phone from her and feeling like a criminal for doing so, Penny read the text messages exchanged between Joseph and Tara.

  Sorry to text so late, but I know you were sick today, when you were with Layla. Do you want me to come over? I can make an excuse here. ~J

  No, it’s fine. It’s too late now anyway, and I’m still feeling rough. I don’t want to alert my parents either. Come over in the morning, as soon as you can. ~T

  Are you sure? It’s not a problem. ~J

  I’m sure. Now DON’T worry. I’ll get cross if you do. ~T

  The wrath of Tara? I’ll try not to risk it. ~J

  Lol! I love you Joseph—do you know that? I’ll see you in the morning. ~T

  See you in the morning. ~J

  I’ll be waiting outside. ~T

  Like old times, huh? ~J

  Penny felt the ground shift beneath her. I love you Joseph—do you know that? They did now. As for the wrath of Tara, it would be nothing compared to the wrath of Layla, Penny suspected.

  Layla had her head in her hands, her whole body shaking.

  “Layla, I’m so sorry,” said Penny, shifting over so she could hug her friend.

  “He asked me to trust him. I’m such a fool. I never learn.”

  “You’re not the fool,” Penny replied, impassioned. “He is, for running back to her.”

  “Penny, what am I going to do?”

  As Layla sobbed in her arms, Penny agitated over whether she should tell Layla what she had heard Joseph say to Tara in the dark alley that ran beside the honey shop. Quickly, she decided against it. There was really no need to compound the facts further. Joseph had damned himself enough without any help from her.

  Layla suddenly broke away. “Aiden,” she sniffed. “I must tell Aiden.”

  “Don’t worry about him,” Penny started to say. Just worrying about herself was going to be challenging enough.

  But Layla was insistent. “No, he needs to know.”

  Pushing away from her, Layla reached for her phone and dialed a number. “Aiden,” she said. “I’m sorry to wake you if you were sleeping, but you need to know this, and you need to know now. Tara is here. She’s at her parents.”

  Penny reached out to her, not sure whether what Layla was doing was a good thing or not. As she swiftly decided that it was, that Aiden did need to know, Layla spoke again.

  “I know I didn’t tell you before, but I’m telling you now. And Aiden? Joseph’s involved, my current boyfriend, her ex. It’s not good news I’m afraid—for either of us.”

  Closing the call, Layla started texting next.

  “Who’s that to?” Penny was confused. “Joseph’s phone is here.”

  “It’s not Joseph I’m texting; it’s Tara. I’m letting her know.” Betrayal had given Layla’s voice an edge.

  “Letting her know what?”

  “That she’s been rumbled.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  LAYLA SAT AT THE KITCHEN TABLE while Penny fussed over her. Her friend was trying to talk to her, force yet another cup of tea upon her, but it was no use. Walls seemed to have sprung up around her, ten foot high at least, and she was trapped inside them, she suspected trapped forever, nothing or nobody able to break them down again. Still Penny continued to chatter, the desperation in her voice evident, trying to get a reaction, to get something when she had nothing left to give—to anyone.

  It had been an hour since she had sent that text to Tara, since she had tipped off Aiden. She hated storms, but she knew one was fast approaching.

  She jumped as the front door opened. Joseph? She heard laughter. It wasn’t Joseph; it was Hannah and Jim. She stiffened anyway. They would no doubt come straight through to the kitchen and sense something was wrong, start asking questions. And once they knew, they would feel sorry for her too, fuss around her as Penny was, make more tea. Her humiliation at Joseph’s and Tara’s hands complete.

  Before they reached the kitchen, she sensed another presence, coming in hot on the heels of Hannah and Jim, an angry presence, pushing past the others in the hallway, heading straight through to the kitchen.

  The wanderer had returned.

  Taking a deep breath and ignoring the puzzled faces of Hannah and Jim, Layla pushed her chair back and rose to her feet, preparing to meet the storm head-on.

  She opened her mouth, but Joseph cut across her.

  “What do you think you’re doing, sending that message to Tara?”

  She took a step back. The swirling anger in his eyes had darkened them, made them fierce
. They were practically black, not the blue she loved so much. He looked so different than the Joseph she knew, unrecognizable. Apt, really, as this person standing before her she realized she didn’t know at all. Although she thought she had, better than anyone.

  At last, she found the courage to speak. “Aiden has a right to know she’s here, to know the truth. As do I.”

  “I’m not disputing that. But to spring his arrival on her so bluntly, that was brutal.”

  “Joe, mate.” Jim came up behind Joseph, trying to calm him. “Is everything okay?”

  Joseph swung round to face him. “No, it’s not bloody okay, can’t you see? It’s far from okay.”

  As Layla had done a moment ago, Jim stepped back too.

  Focusing his attention back on Layla, Joseph continued, “You should have talked to me first. We could have discussed what to do about it. Tara’s in turmoil—again.”

  Tara was in turmoil? What about the turmoil she was in? That they had put her in?

  “Is that all you’re worried about?” Her voice rose with each word. “Your precious Tara?” She shook her head in disbelief. “What about me, Joseph? Since she’s been back on the scene, you seem to have forgotten all about me!”

  “Don’t be so bloody stupid.” Joseph looked exasperated as well as angry. “I haven’t forgotten about you, but the world, it doesn’t revolve around you, you know.”

  “I never said it did,” she screamed, incensed at the unfairness of his words. “But Tara—your world seems to revolve around her now, to the exclusion of everything and everyone else. ‘Trust me,’ you said, ‘I’ll be able to tell you everything soon.’ But guess what? I don’t trust you anymore and with good reason.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Layla could see Hannah coming toward her, bewilderment at the scene she had come home to written all over her face. She also saw Penny stay her with one hand, then quickly motion for them all to leave. They did, but only as far as the hallway, obviously too worried to leave the two warring factions alone entirely. In the kitchen, she and Joseph continued to stare at each other.

  “What do you mean ‘good reason’? I’ve given you no reason not to trust me.” His voice was low now, even more menacing somehow than when he’d been shouting.

  Breaking eye contact with him, she scrabbled around on the kitchen table instead. Locating his phone, she hurled it at him, not caring if it smashed to the floor and broke. Unfortunately, he caught it.

  “You disappeared this morning without a word.”

  “You were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “You went straight to her.”

  “I did,” he admitted. “I had to.”

  “And I know why you had to. I read the texts you sent her; that she sent you—about how much she loves you.”

  “You read my texts?” He seemed surprised. “Texts addressed to me, not you?”

  Layla refused to be diverted by morals. “She said she loves you, Joseph.”

  Hurling that heinous fact at him didn’t have the effect she thought it would. There was no stuttering and spluttering of a strenuous denial. Instead he asked, “At any point during that text conversation did I say I loved her too?”

  She didn’t need to scour her memory. She wouldn’t have forgotten if he had. “No.”

  “No,” he repeated. “But I do love her, Layla.”

  “Whaa…” Her head snapped back. She felt like she’d been shot.

  “I said I love her. I always have done; I always will do. But,” he continued before she could react further, “I love her in a platonic sense, the same way she loves me. This may surprise you, but such a thing is possible between a man and a woman.”

  She hated the self-righteous tone that had crept into his voice. She didn’t doubt it was possible, but not between two ex-lovers. He was not going to fool her anymore.

  “You two, you’re not just friends. And there’s no way you accidentally bumped into each other, either. Besides finding out about Aiden, I found out something else. She left Australia over a month ago. She’s been in Florence for weeks, not the days I presumed. Time enough for you to enjoy many rendezvous with her, for things to happen. She was sick yesterday, as you already seem to know, right in front of me. It couldn’t have been lunch; she didn’t touch it. But one thing it could be is morning sickness. Is she pregnant, Joseph? And if so, who’s the father? Aiden or you?”

  “Pregnant?” If she hadn’t made him splutter before, she succeeded now. “What the hell are you talking about? I’ve only been back in contact with her for a matter of days. I’d have to be going some to get her pregnant.”

  “She left Australia weeks ago. Aiden said so. Don’t even try and deny it.”

  “I’m not denying it. It’s true. She did leave weeks ago. But she wasn’t in Florence for that length of time. She had only been there a short while. I’m not even sure how long, to be honest. I never asked. Before that she’d been in Rome, and Venice too.”

  Layla shook her head vehemently. “You’re lying—about everything. I bet you’ve been in contact for weeks, months, years. I bet you’ve never lost contact.”

  “What?” He looked truly stunned. “You really think I’m capable of that—of deceiving you for so long? That what we have between us isn’t enough?”

  “Yes, Joseph, I do.” She was the one who sounded self-righteous now.

  “You’ve got this all wrong.”

  Despite the warning tone in his voice, she was on a roll. She couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. Every niggle, every doubt, every glaring concern she’d ever had since Tara had exploded onto the scene demanded voice. “The pregnancy—that’s the big secret, isn’t it? It makes sense, why you’ve both been so cagey, trying to decide on a plan of action, how to break the news to everyone—your infidelity made manifest. Poor Aiden.” The thought of him wound her up even tighter. “She left him, just upped and walked away, leaving behind only a hand-scrawled note, a note that didn’t explain a thing. He’d asked her to marry him, did you know that? And she had said yes. Then guess what? She decides, hey ho, it’s not him she wants after all, it’s you. And what do you do? Fall straight back into her clutches. Do you know how much it hurts to be left like that? Via a letter or nothing even so grand as a letter, by Post-it note, which is what Alex left me? To be used, then cast aside? How cruel it is? How cruel you both are? Aiden looked a mess; I’m a mess. But no, I don’t think either of you do know or care, for that matter. You’re welcome to each other. If Tara’s the one you want, you know what? You go right ahead and have her.”

  In the face of her tirade, Joseph didn’t even flinch. “Tell me, Layla,” he replied coolly, “if Tara was pregnant with my child, why would we come back to Cornwall? Why wouldn’t we go somewhere where no one knew us, where it would be just the two…no, sorry, the three of us, without any grief?”

  Layla hadn’t thought that far. “I don’t know. Because it’s easier to raise a baby on home ground?”

  Even to her ears, that sounded lame.

  “Next question,” Joseph continued undaunted. “Why would we come back with you?”

  That she couldn’t answer.

  “Is your opinion of me so low you think I’d do that? I’d torture you like that?”

  Was it? Was it really?

  Before she could contemplate further, before he could speak again and confuse her more, she demanded an answer to a question of her own.

  “Just tell me, Joseph. What’s the bloody secret?”

  “She’s ill.”

  “Ill?” That wasn’t the answer she had expected. It brought her up short, slammed her straight into the brick wall she’d been so busy constructing before he had arrived. Unable to breathe, she waited for him to continue, a nagging voice within telling her that in the last few minutes, she’d made some very big mistakes.

  “Yes, Layla, she’s ill. She has a brain tumor. I don’t know how long she has to live, and, more to the point, neither does she. But it’s not long, or s
o it’s been indicated—more tests are needed. That’s why she was sick yesterday; because of the headaches she suffers, worse than any migraine could ever be. Each one, she says, feels like it’s going to be the end for her. And in some ways, she wishes it would be, because the pain, it’s that bad. So, no, Layla, she’s not pregnant, by me or anyone else. There’s no life involved. I wish there was, but there’s only death.”

  Her legs buckled beneath her at the revelation. Quickly, she reached for the back of the chair to steady herself.

  “Christ,” she whispered. “I had no idea.”

  “No, I know you didn’t. But I said this secret of hers, as you continued to call it, was serious. I also said I’d tell you as soon as I could. And I was going to do that tonight. Tara felt guilty, that you’d waited long enough. I thought so too. But, no, you’d jumped to your own conclusions already, that imagination of yours running riot.”

  Layla caught movement and turned her head. She could see Hannah, Jim, and Penny hovering, not in the hallway but just outside the kitchen door, drawn closer by Joseph’s revelation. If they had looked shocked before, they looked even more so now, their horrified faces reflecting exactly what she felt inside. She groaned, a low, almost guttural sound. Why hadn’t she held off? Waited just a little bit longer? As he’d said she’d been earlier, she felt brutal, hurling vile accusations at the man she was supposed to love, to trust. That imagination of hers, she damned it.

  “When I met Tara in Florence,” Joseph continued, “I told you she was in bits. I told you it took me a while to coax out of her what was wrong, that she didn’t want to tell me. I told you I wanted to make sure she got home where she needed to be. I told you everything I could, but above all, I told you her secret had nothing to do with me, nothing at all.”

  “I know.” Layla’s voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s just…It’s been days…”