by Shae Banks
“Can you?” I asked with a humorless laugh, getting to my feet. “Does she mean nothing to you? Is it not what it looks like?”
He stepped aside and let me by, then followed me down the stairs. “None of that. Listen—”
“No. You fucking lied to me. It’s her, isn’t it? Your wife?”
I rushed through the living room and into the kitchen, looking for my bag. He followed, dumping the takeout bag on the counter. I flinched at the sound of the paper rustling. He didn’t notice. “Nathalie, she isn’t my wife. She’s my daughter.”
Nausea turned my stomach, and I closed my eyes for a second, trying to calm myself down. Certain I was going to be sick, I put my hand over my mouth.
“I wanted to tell you, but when you said what you did—”
“When did I ever mention kids?” I snapped.
“You said you didn’t have any of that baggage. I thought you meant you didn’t like them, so I didn’t mention Poppy because she has nothing to do with this.”
Poppy. The image of the beautiful child from Tony’s games room flashed in my mind. “Oh, for…” And then it dawned on me. The little girl looked a lot like Jason around the eyes, but her nose and mouth? They belonged to someone else I knew.
A family company, indeed. How could I have been so stupid?
“It’s Cara? Cara is your ex-wife?”
“For fuck’s sake, Nat.” His voice raised with exasperation and my stomach turned.
“You aren’t divorced, are you?”
He bowed his head. That was when I decided I had to leave and made for the door, but the bile I was choking down rose, and I had to turn and lean over the sink instead.
I let it come, turning on the tap to wash my vomit away and shrugging his hand off when he touched my shoulder.
“Nathalie, please, hear me out. Let me explain.”
Cupping my hand to catch the cold water, I rinsed my mouth then turned away, leaving the tap running, and moved back into the living room. He followed, and I turned around with my hand up. He stopped in his tracks. “Explain what? The family you keep in another town? Fucking hell, I’m the other woman, aren’t I? I’m wrecking the home of the woman who gave me the best job I’ve ever had. Shit, you don’t do this stuff by halves, do you Jason?”
He looked genuinely wounded but didn’t try to speak again. He just looked at me. It wasn’t working. I wasn’t listening to any more of his lies. “Do not be here when I get back. Get your shit and get out. I mean it, Jase. If you come near me again, I’ll… I’ll phone the police.”
I didn’t hear his response, the door slammed behind me, and I was down the drive without a backward glance. He didn’t follow me out. I glanced at the house as I drove by, getting one last look at his car, at the home I’d been planning on asking him to share with me. There were no tears. I was too angry to cry. Just a lump in my throat, and the weight of disappointment crushing my chest.
It had been too good to be true, the little voice in my head gloated. There was no way that was ever going to last.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I let myself into the office the following morning and got everything set up before Tony arrived. When I heard the door open, I went straight into the staff room and put the kettle on, keeping to my usual routine. I was still an employee here, for the time being, and I wasn’t planning to give any of them a reason to end my contract on bad terms, however messy it had ended up.
“Nathalie…”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and carried on with what I was doing. He didn’t leave, so I said, “It’s just Nat.”
“I didn’t expect you to come in today,” he admitted. There was a hint of apology in his tone. “If you need to take the day off, I understand.”
“Thank you, Tony, but I’m okay,” I stated, turning and handing him his mug.
I was not okay.
His expression told me I was doing a terrible job of hiding it. I knew my face was blotchy, my skin was pale, and I looked like I hadn’t slept in three days, but I wouldn’t be taking a personal day over something as stupid as this.
“Honestly, it was just a shock, that’s all. I’m fine.”
“So, you’ll let him explain?”
“Fuck no.” It was out of my mouth before I had chance to stop it. Thankfully, Tony didn’t look offended. “What I mean is, he had enough opportunities to speak to me about his wife and daughter. You were more forthcoming about his child than he was.”
He looked at me with a small, apologetic frown.
“Tony, I’m sorry… I didn’t want to mix it up for this reason. I knew this would happen.”
He shook his head. “You did nothing… For what it’s worth, he and Cara have been separated for years. They kept up the façade for Poppy, but there hasn’t been a relationship for quite some time. They co-parent. They work together. They’re still on friendly terms because they must be. I did urge him to mention Poppy, but he couldn’t seem to find the right time.”
I didn’t say anything, but he seemed to know what I was thinking and explained, “Poppy is nine. She’s a bright, friendly, sociable girl, if a little coddled. Jay has taken her to the cinema and out for dinner most Sundays since he and Cara split. It’s their date night. I know how it appeared, Nat. But honestly, in the thirteen years I’ve known him, he hasn’t looked at anyone the way he looks at you.”
I turned and picked up my mug. “I’m sorry, Tony, but I have a lot to do today. Excuse me.”
He bowed his head and let me leave without another word. It wasn’t his fault his friend had screwed me over again, but I couldn’t stand here and accept his apologies on Jason’s behalf.
It was a long morning. Chantal didn’t seem to be listening to a damn word I said, and when lunch time arrived, I decided to just sit in my car with a mug of coffee and collect my thoughts.
My phone rang, and I ignored it.
My phone beeped, and I ignored it.
I received an email, and I ignored it.
When the phone rang again I picked it up and watched the screen until it stopped. Then I blocked his number and deleted my social media apps. I didn’t bother to listen to the voicemail he left, and instead dialed Haylie’s number, bursting into tears the moment she answered.
I returned from the bar with a tray loaded with full shot glasses and a bottle of prosecco.
“How long have you been here? You look like shit. What the fuck is going on?” she questioned, picking up a shot glass and downing the tequila.
I hadn’t bothered with salt and lime, they weren’t there to be enjoyed, and downed one myself. “Two hours,” I replied, nodding to the ice bucket with an empty bottle upturned inside. “I drank a bottle before you got here. The bastard fucked me over.”
“How?” she asked, taking another glass.
“Wife. Kid. Still lives with them.” I downed one.
Her brows rose, and she flopped back in her seat. “Well… Shit. How did you find out?”
I looked at the four remaining glasses and picked up another. “His kid sent him a message about date night on Sunday. I read it by accident, jumping to the usual conclusion at talk of a date night.” I downed the drink.
“And he said…?”
“That he could explain.”
“And did you let him?”
I downed another. “No. I threw up and drove off, in that order.”
“Well you seem to know enough about it now,” she concluded calmly. “Who told you?”
“Tony, mainly.” I reached for the last shot.
She slapped my hand away. “No more of that shit for you, you can’t handle it. And what did Tony say?”
I scowled at her, picked up the prosecco, and filled my glass instead. “That he’s been separated from Cara for years, that Poppy is a nice kid, and he takes her on a date every Sunday.”
“Cara who interviewed you?” she asked, taking the prosecco and drinking from the bottle.
I cringed. “Yeah. Her.”
She was about to say something when my phone rang. Knowing I’d blocked his number I answered it without looking.
“Nathalie, please don’t hang up.”
My stomach hollowed out, and I was sure I turned several shades paler. “I’m not doing this, Jase. I can’t. You knew… I… I told you…” I choked back the tears, fighting to keep myself together long enough to finish what I needed to say. “Stop calling me. Please, just let me walk away from this with a shred of dignity.”
“If that’s what you really want. Just know that I’m sorry, babe. I… Well, it doesn’t matter now, but I’m sorry.”
I turned it off and let it drop onto the table. Haylie shifted to sit next to me and pulled me into her arms as the tears fell. “I’m so sorry, Nat.”
I sobbed into her shoulder until I had no tears left to shed. Drained, exhausted, and heartbroken, I finished my drink in silence and stared down at the table.
“I’ve told Tommo I’m staying with you tonight,” she murmured, stroking my hair. “Shall we get you home?”
I shook my head. “No. You go home. I’ll be okay.”
She laughed. “Yeah, course you will. Come on, tipsy.”
She picked up my phone and shoved it in my bag, before shouldering it and dragging me to my feet.
I let her lead me out and bundle me into a taxi.
“What about you and Tommo?” I enquired when the car set off moving.
“We’re fine,” she answered, nudging me. “We’re perfect.”
“Are you going to elaborate?”
“No. I’m going to get you some toast and into bed, so you don’t have to call in sick at work tomorrow.”
I groaned. “Oh, god…”
She snorted. I didn’t think she was funny. “You’ll be fine. Give it a few weeks, and it’ll all blow over. Has anyone told that Chardonnay woman, or whatever she’s called?”
“No, not yet, I don’t think.”
“Well, you tell her. It’ll make you feel better having a snipe at her, and you’re still her boss, so she can’t say anything.”
I closed my eyes and sighed as the taxi pulled into my street. I was surprisingly sober. “No, I’m going to start the job hunt first thing.”
“Oh, don’t do that. You love your job.”
I got out of the car and slammed the door. “I can’t stay there knowing he could walk in any day. And what if Cara comes up to the office? God… I can’t do it, Hayles.”
She paid the fare, and I started digging in my bag for my keys as I walked up my drive. I tried not to look at the spot where my life was ruined, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Why?”
She was at my side with her arm around my shoulders, nudging me away as I stared at the flagstone. “Nat…”
“Seriously, though. Why? What did I do to them to deserve this?”
She didn’t reply. Instead she took my keys out of my hand and led me into the house.
I went straight up the stairs and stood in the doorway to my bedroom.
I’d let him in. I let him into my life, allowed myself to love him, and he’d done it to me again. Not in the same way, in many ways this was worse. The deceit. He’d hidden his entire life from me after coaxing the whole truth out of me. I should have known he couldn’t be trusted after he failed to tell me about the company. Was I so lonely, so desperate to be loved, I was blind to the lies? I concluded I must have been. The disappointment in myself was far more destructive than my disappointment in him. And it was made infinitely worse by the fact that I missed him.
“Come on, you. Bed.”
I did as she said, sitting cross-legged on the bed as she handed me a plate of toast.
She opened the window and looked out while I forced down some food. When I was done, I stuck the plate on the side. “What are you looking at?”
She turned and smiled at me. “Nothing. Get some sleep. I’ll set your alarm so you get to work.”
I groaned and lay back. “I’ll have to walk in.”
“Why? What did you do with your car?”
“I left it in the big car park.”
She sucked in a breath. “That’s gonna cost.”
I turned on my side. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore. I couldn’t remember feeling so empty. I was still fully dressed when she climbed into bed. I didn’t care about that either. I was exhausted and I needed some sleep if I was going to survive the week.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tuesday was painful. Wednesday was slow. I drove home from work on Thursday ready to just sit down on the sofa and not move until Monday, but with one more day to go, I gave myself a pep talk. Get the week done, start the job search over the weekend. Something would turn up. It was just one more day, and it would all seem better on Monday.
All the motivation I’d built to finish the week died when I pulled into my drive to see a huge bunch of flowers sitting on my doorstep. The lump formed in my throat again and I steeled myself against the flood of emotions. I didn’t know why I felt that way, I didn’t even like flowers. He knew that. I distinctly remembered telling him. I supposed the feelings stemmed from knowing he was still trying to make me hear him out.
I got out of the car and approached the front door like it was dangerous. The flowers were pretty, probably cost a small fortune, and I noticed the little white envelope perched in the midst of the blooms as I picked up the arrangement. I slid the card from the envelope tucked inside. They were too little, too late. I didn’t need them. I’d needed the truth, and while he was in a position to give me anything, it was the one thing he wasn’t prepared to part with. I wasn’t expecting a sonnet, but I was disappointed to see only three words written in softly looping handwriting, which I didn’t recognize.
I miss you
Stuffing it among the blooms, I sniffed, and let myself in.
The house was silent. That used to bother me, but right then I was glad for it. I turned to place the flowers on the side table and almost dropped them when I saw the photograph lying on top.
I’d destroyed it. That image of Gav and I, standing in front of the old Rolls Royce we hired on our wedding day, smiling for the camera, shouldn’t have existed
I stared at it, strangely numb to the fact that he’d been there. He wasn’t supposed to be within miles of me, but he’d been inside my house. I should have been terrified. I should have been screaming and running from the building, but I knew that if I let the terror in, I’d never get it to go away. After a minute or so, I closed my eyes and took in a breath, forcing myself to stay calm, and then I put the flowers down beside the picture and went into the kitchen. Hanging my bag on the back of a dining chair, I set about pouring a glass of wine. It was probably a bad idea with all that was happening, I was safer keeping a clear head, but I needed to calm my jumping nerves.
Standing by the sink, I took three large gulps of wine and was interrupted by a message from Haylie. She’d spent Monday night with me, but I wouldn’t let her stay Tuesday or Wednesday. I still hadn’t heard the details about what had changed between her and Tommo, and certainly didn’t want to rock the boat if they had everything back to normal, despite what was happening with my shitty life.
I moved back toward the living room and stopped in the doorway, staring at the flowers as I sipped my wine. My head was swimming, whether it was from the wine or stress, I couldn’t quite tell.
I was so angry, not just at Jason for deceiving me, but also myself for allowing it to go that far. And at Gav for invading my life. He wasn’t supposed to be within miles of me, yet he had the gall to come into my house. Bastard.
I’d been through enough, hadn’t I?
Yeah, I was feeling sorry for myself. There wasn’t anyone left to do it for me. My phone went off in the kitchen, but I ignored it. I knew it was Haylie checking in. Having my back in any way she could.
I went back to the sofa and curled around my glass. Then I laughed. It was loud in the silence of the otherwise empty house, and the sound startled me,
but I couldn’t stop it.
Of all the weeks for everything to fall apart with Jase, it had to be this one. Of all the days, it had to be last Sunday. I shouldn’t have been surprised. That was how my life worked. I fell down, I got up, and something pushed me down again. It was how it had always been.
I needed more.
Thinking back over the events of the previous few months, I drained my glass and went back to the kitchen. Seeing my phone, I remembered something from Monday. I knew Haylie could clarify, so I grabbed my phone, dialed, and waited.
“Hello?”
“What were you looking at on Monday night?”
“What?”
“Monday night, you opened the window and looked out into the street for ages. Why?”
She was quiet for a moment. I waited. “There was someone walking their dog. It was straining by your gate, determined to get into the garden. The guy dragged it away, and I got into bed. Why?”
“What sort of dog?”
“I don’t fucking know… What’s wrong, you’re scaring me.”
“Nothing. Just something someone said… Never mind.”
“It looked like a greyhound,” she said suddenly. “Nat, are you okay?”
I forced a lighter tone and lied through my teeth. “I’m fine. Looks like Jason sent flowers. My house smells like a funeral parlor.”
“Do you need me to come over?”
“No. No, I need an early night. We’ll sort something soon though, okay?”
She didn’t sound convinced, but let me end the call.
Taking a pen, I picked the card back up and took the photograph, and scribbled on the blank side before rooting in the kitchen drawer for tape. When I found it, I went to the door, secured the two of them to it, and locked myself inside the house.
Then I went to the kitchen, I poured myself another glass of wine and looked at my reflection in the window. Perfect. It was all just perfect. I tipped the glass toward the other me that was staring back, smiled, and said, “Happy Anniversary.”
That was when the hysteria set in.