WE ARE ONE: Volume Two

by Jewel, Bella

  I was sad and wanted to cry, but I was too angry to cry any more. He’d lied to me. Not only did Liam have a wife but he had a wife he’d slept with a little over a month ago.

  Twice.

  Once was bad enough. The heat of the moment, old passions surfacing, and the need for closure. I sort of understood that, but twice? No. The second time would have been slower, calmer, and intimate, more about want than need.

  Once or twice, it didn’t matter really. Either way, he’d lied to me.

  Now there was a pregnancy, and I was done. I wanted no part in his life. Yes, it hurt. Yes, my heart was broken, whatever that meant, but it would heal. My heart may never be the same, but it would recover.

  Thanks to Liam, I knew that I could enjoy sex if it was with the right person. I wasn’t about to turn into a raving nympho, but I would no longer shut entirely down on a man at the merest hint of a physical relationship. I’d now behave like a normal twenty-two-year-old and hopefully enjoy a happy and healthy sex life going forward.

  My phone buzzed with another text, making me jump.

  Liam: Can we meet up 2day? We need 2 talk Sarah. I love you! ~Liam x

  I thought about ignoring his message, I thought about calling him, but I thought mostly about crying, and as I typed a message through my tears, I realised I already was.

  Me: No. We can’t meet up 2day or any other day. We’re done. Plz don’t contact me again, I have nothing to say to u.

  No sign off. No kiss.

  Liam: We r so far from done. If I call, will u answer? I’m in the city all day but I want to c u 2nite.

  I didn’t want to play this game. He was just making getting over him more difficult, more painful. My phone buzzed again, and my stomach churned.

  Liam: Plz, Sarah. Talk 2 me.

  In my head I could hear him say the words, “Talk to me, pretty girl.” The thought of his accent making the beat of my broken heart pick up speed.

  I couldn’t talk to him, couldn’t risk for his voice, accent, or words to slip around my heart and my head. I wouldn’t allow them to affect me and make me doubt my choices.

  Was this how it was for her? Was this what my mum was up against with my dad? Did she try to resist? Did she attempt to keep away from him? What was it he said that made her allow him to keep coming back time and time again for so many years? For the first time ever in my life, I wished I had my mum to talk to. I wished that she was around so I could ask her for advice on this. I needed her to tell me how not to make the same mistakes she had. I needed her to guide me through the traps so I wouldn’t fall into them and end up caught like she did.

  I couldn’t.

  I wouldn’t allow it.

  I was stronger. I wasn’t like her.

  My phone rang. I ignored it. When it finally fell silent. I switched it off and headed upstairs to try to sort out the ruination in my bedroom.

  It took me two hours, one black sack, and three trips to the dustbin to empty the hoover before I was satisfied that I’d gotten rid of all the broken glass and destruction.

  I had my earphones in and sang as I cleaned, rocking out to My Chemical Romance, The Kooks, and Amy Winehouse. I danced to David Guetta and Madonna, and I lost myself for a little while.

  I found the cleaning cathartic. I channelled my hurt and anger into dancing, singing, and making my room look pristine. I changed the bedding, rearranged the furniture, and dusted and wiped down every surface. Then, when the “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” played and the lyrics hit me, I sat on the edge of my bed and cried.

  I was hurt, upset, angry, and probably a little bit humiliated, but I was done. I knew that I tended to hang on to things for too long, but I was determined to let this one go.

  Relationships ended every day. Couples lied to each other and cheated, it was a fact of life. My relationship with Liam had been a whirlwind, we’d had an instant attraction the moment we’d set eyes on each other. I’d been deliriously happy the whole month that we’d been together, and I knew I’d fallen just a little bit in love with him. I would be grateful that I’d gotten to experience that with him, along with the amazingly hot, mind-blowing sex . . . But he’d lied to me, and I couldn’t help feeling both angry and disappointed. I would learn from the experience but I would move on.

  I walked down the stairs carrying the hoover in one hand and the black sack full of the remnants of my broken belongings in the other. I couldn’t fix my smashed lamp, photo frames, or the Royal Doulton trinket box I’d had since I was six, but I was filled with a new-found determination to fix myself.

  Jo Jo’s “Too Little Too Late” played in my ears, and I even managed a smile.

  “Fuck you, Liam Delaney,” I said aloud.

  I blew my hair out of my face as I reached the bottom step. I was wearing it in pigtails to keep it off the back of my neck while I worked, combined with the fangirl band hoodie and my pink pyjamas with hearts and unicorns all over them, I’d managed to perfect the art of looking like a thirteen-year-old girl in three easy moves.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Shit,” I hissed through greeted teeth and pulled my earphones out of my ears.

  The top half of our front door was semi-opaque glass. I was standing at the bottom of the stairs directly opposite it, if I moved, whoever was standing on the other side would see me. I could see them, but I had no clue who it was. I watched as they turned and looked over their shoulder, and I took a step forward, attempting to escape from view but they turned back, and I froze.

  The doorbell rang again. I set the hoover on the floor and swung the door open while still holding on to the black sack.

  Olivia.

  Because that was just the way life liked to fuck me up the arse.

  My mouth was dry, and for some strange reason, my pulse felt like it was vibrating through my lower jaw, maybe because my teeth were clamped together so tightly.

  She stared. Her eyes darted from my feet, which were adorned with one lime-green sock, one Zippy from Rainbow covered sock and mismatched Havaianas: one plain back, one purple.

  Her gaze lingered over my hoodie, and she blinked, three times in rapid succession, making me wonder what went through her mind in that split second. Hopefully it wasn’t Marley Layton, coz that tattooed fucker was mine, and I’d fight any bitch for him, especially that particular bitch.

  She caught me off guard by speaking before she’d even made eye contact with me.

  “Hey, I’m so sorry for just turning up at your door like this, but I was wondering if we could talk.”

  Despite my lips being stuck to my teeth, I swallowed before responding.

  “Talk?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry, this is so awkward. I’m Olivia. I’m Liam’s wife. I was at your brother’s last night when you two walked in together.”

  She looked down at her feet before looking back up at me, her eyes shining with tears. She swiped the back of her hand over her perfectly made-up face and brushed them away before they fell. She gave a small laugh.

  “I’m so sorry, this is so embarrassing. Do you think I could come in?”

  No. Fuck off. Fuck off and stop existing.

  I stepped aside without a word and allowed her access to my home. I dumped the rubbish bag down outside the front door and took in a deep breath. When I stepped back inside, Olivia was standing to the side of me.

  “Please, go through.” I gestured with my head and my hand towards the opening that leads into our open-plan living, dining, and kitchen area.

  She moved, I followed.

  She stopped at the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen, but I walked around the other side of it, wanting the safety of something solid between us.

  Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek pony tail, and she was wearing a long, camel-coloured cardigan over a black dress. Her boots, handbag, and scarf matched her cardigan in colour perfectly and complemented her dark hair and eyes.

  Once again she looked beautiful, while I simply didn’t.

>   “I know we haven’t been formally introduced, but it’s Sarah, right?”

  I nodded my head, she nodded hers and licked her lips. Was she dry? Should I offer her a drink? Strychnine? Arsenic? No, she was pregnant. I was hurt, not evil.

  Perhaps she was nervous. Was she? What did she have to be nervous about?

  “I’m sorry about turning up like this, but I was desperate. I tracked down your address via the company.”

  “The company?”

  I was officially confused.

  “Yes. Liam and I still share a business, Luke worked for our business in Australia, and you’re listed as his next of kin.”

  “Is that even legal? Doesn’t that breach confidentiality laws?”

  Her lips twitched with the hint of a weak smile.

  “Probably, but I was desperate, Sarah.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, here’s the thing, I don’t know what you know about me, but I came here today wanting to find out a little bit about you.”

  I stepped back and lent against the worktop, putting further distance between us.

  “Me? Why do you need to know anything about me?”

  I watched her as she pulled a handkerchief from her large black Chanel bag . . . I wasn’t a massive follower of up-to-the-minute fashion, I preferred retro stuff, but I knew shoes and bags, and that was from this year’s winter collection.

  “I’ll be totally honest with you, and in return, I hope that you’ll be honest with me.”

  She licked her red stained lips again and continue . . .

  “I came here to win my husband back. Our marriage has had its problems, but before Liam left Australia to come here, we were dealing with them. We’d started dating again, and we’d even started spending the night together over the last few months.”

  I felt like I was going to throw up. My hands and my insides shook uncontrollably. I wrapped my arms around my middle and attempted to hold myself together.

  He lied. He lied so much, and I believed him. I opened myself up to him. I let him inside my heart and my body, and he lied.

  “I honestly thought he and I were on the same page, working towards getting back together, but when I told him that I was pregnant, he took off. Without a word, he packed up and left me. I’ve attempted to call and email, but he ignored me.”

  He knew. He knew she was pregnant before he even left Australia. I reached out gripped the worktop. It looked like I was striking a relaxed pose when actually my legs felt like they’d just been knocked out from under me and I, in fact, needed the support of the kitchen surface to stop from falling over.

  “I thought maybe he’d just panicked and needed time to get his head around the news of the baby.”

  Her hand slipped inside her cardigan and rested over her flat stomach.

  “I thought that by coming over here, I’d be able to convince him that we need to be together, either here or back in Australia. I really don’t mind which, as long as we’re together, but then last night . . .”

  Her bottom lip trembled, her eyes once again filled with tears.

  “I saw you, Sarah. I saw that he was holding your hand. I watched him let go when he realised I was there, but I saw and watched his reaction when you left. When you took the other guy’s hand, Will was it?”

  I nodded.

  “When you took Will’s hand and left, Liam looked devastated, and it broke my heart. I knew then the reason he’d ignored my calls and messages. You. My husband is in love with you.”

  She didn’t say it angrily or accusingly, but she did say it through tears, which she continuously attempted to dab away on her hanky.

  Despite the lack of accusation in her tone, I still felt the need to defend myself.

  “I didn’t know.” I shook my head and let out a long breath. “He didn’t tell me he was married until Friday, and he never mentioned the baby until after he’d seen you last night, well he never actually told me, I guessed.” My words came out in a whoosh, tumbling over each other.

  I didn’t know.

  It wasn’t my fault.

  I wasn’t like her.

  “Last night?” she questioned. “You saw him last night? After you left your brother’s?”

  “Yeah, he came here.”

  “I see. Well, there you have it, his feelings for you obviously run very deep.”

  Not deep enough for him to be honest with me.

  She started to cry again.

  “I understand now. I won’t fight you for him, Sarah. I’ve already had a few issues with this pregnancy, and I don’t need any more stress in my life.”

  “How far along are you?”

  Why the fuck did I ask that?

  “Just twelve weeks. We never thought it was possible, we tried for two whole years when we were first married, it tore us apart in the end. Funny that it should happen now after everything we’ve been through.”

  Yeah, fucking hilarious.

  What was even funnier was that Liam had told me none of this. He’d told me they’d both been unfaithful. He never once mentioned that they’d been trying for a baby. “So you won’t be terminating the pregnancy then? If you and Liam don’t get back together, you’ll still go ahead with everything?”

  Her eyes widened, and she shook her head.

  “No, that’s not even – wow, no. That’s not even something I would consider. Despite the circumstances, I’m really looking forward to this baby.”

  I didn’t know him. I didn’t know him at all. He’d lied about so much I could hardly process what she was telling me.

  I watched while she constantly rubbed her belly with the palm of her hand as she continued.

  “I need to accept that our marriage is truly over. I just wanted to meet you, Sarah, I hope you understand? If you’re going to be a part of my child’s life, I thought it only right that I got to meet you first.”

  I shook my head while she was still speaking.

  “No. We’re done. Liam and I are over. If he doesn’t want to be with you, it has nothing to do with me. We’re not together. We’ve only known each other a month anyway. It was nothing serious, and it’s over now.”

  The defensive word vomit spewed from my mouth. While she dabbed at her eyes delicately, I used the sleeve of my hoodie to cuff away my own snot and tears.

  “He told me he hadn’t seen you in two years, not until you came to his office the night before he caught his flight to come here. He told me he’d sent you divorce papers, that you’d been served.”

  I felt like I was losing control, like I was spiralling and spiralling downwards but instead of the ground coming towards me, it was just sky. Sky and more sky. Never ending sky. My head spun. I felt sick, and I shook.

  “Why? Why would he do that? My heart’s broken at his betrayal, but I’ll be honest, I’d still take him back. I love him enough to have him any way I can get him.”

  And there it was, exactly the way I’d imagined my mum wanted my dad, was exactly the way Olivia wanted Liam. She’d probably fallen pregnant on purpose, thinking it would win him back, and just like my dad, Liam had walked away. Their child was me. And just like me, their child would grow up with all the insecurities and hang ups that I did, and there was absolutely no way I could be a part of that.

  I watched as she stood in my kitchen, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

  I’d done that. I had caused this woman, this pregnant woman, untold heartbreak.

  I needed her to leave. I couldn’t look at her or the devastation that I’d caused. Having her crying in front of me—this woman whose husband I had been sleeping with—was a reminder that I was, in fact, so very much like my mother.

  Chapter 18

  Seven hours of meetings. Seven fucking hours I spent meeting with prospective clients and explaining the concept behind our new business venture, what our company could offer that others couldn’t, and why they should employ us to recruit and relocate the staff they needed to send to Australia.

  I had
a black eye, a split lip, and a bruised and swollen jaw. I looked and felt like shit. Luke looked worse. So bad in fact that he’d stayed home and Mel and our new PA, Liz, who we had recently employed had taken notes and done whatever else PAs were supposed to do to assist me.

  Despite the issues going on between them personally, Luke and Mel had so far, kept things strictly business in the office, and it had proved to be a good call on his part to bring her on board.

  Her family had owned one of the biggest chains of estate agents across the UK, but had also branched out into overseas acquisitions and property management. Mel had been responsible for that department and knew the industry inside out.

  Her family’s business took a hit during the economic downturn which was just beginning to take full effect in the UK that year. Mel happened to be looking for a new job just as we were setting up. We offered her a position and now she would be heading up the team that would hunt for properties to either rent or purchase for the families we would be relocating.

  Our long-term plan was to branch out into property development and build and own the houses we set the families up in, but that would be further down the track.

  As the representative from a German company that was considering taking us on left the office, I stayed seated at the meeting table and massaged my temples with my fingertips.

  “Well, despite the unprofessional look you presented, I think today went pretty well,” Mel said as she walked reentered the room.

  “I think so too.” I was tired, I was in pain, and my head wasn’t in the game. All I could think about was Sarah. I didn’t want to be here, I wanted to be curled up in bed with her. I didn’t care if we didn’t even have sex, I just wanted to feel her warmth, have her body pressed against mine, and be able to breathe her in. I’d been a miserable fucker all day because I was here and not with her. I was even more miserable that she wouldn’t respond to my text messages or answer my calls.