by Isobel Hart
The boys had moved out into the beer garden, to allow Julian to have a cigarette. At least that was their excuse. I suspected Julian was also sick to death of talking about the wedding, a subject of which Victoria never seemed to tire. Edward appeared reluctant to leave my side, but eventually the other men had ribbed him so much he’d been forced to go.
“Julian will have to stop smoking soon,” Victoria said. “We’re trying for a baby.” She smiled, looking like the proverbial cat. Heidi and I smiled back at her, making appropriate sounds of approval, but Heidi’s was forced, her eyes tight. I knew their difficulty getting pregnant was starting to seriously worry her, to the extent she’d texted me to say they were planning to start investigations. I wondered if her reaction to Victoria meant the news was bad.
“I bet she falls straight away,” Heidi groaned when Victoria excused herself to go to the bathroom. “She’ll probably have fucking triplets naturally or something, the cow.”
“Yes, but they’ll have her for a mother, and you know Julian’s family have a tradition of calling all the boys Roman names, so she’ll call them Brutus or Maximus, and they’ll be tormented at school and be terribly miserable. Did I mention they’d have her for a mum?” Heidi smiled at me gratefully, as I reached over and squeezed her hand.
“Paul’s in the clear,” she admitted. “He got checked first. If there’s a problem, then it has to be with me.” Her shoulders slumped.
I hugged her. “Don’t assume anything. You don’t even know for sure there’s a problem yet.”
“If it isn’t the very lovely Samantha! Good to see you’re still alive.” The voice boomed across the crowded bar, halting our conversation and making everyone in the vicinity turn and stare.
I groaned. Harry, one of Edward’s most obnoxious friends.
“What are you doing here? I heard you were both at death’s door, but you’re looking as alive and delectable as ever.” Harry’s voice demanded attention. He moved purposefully through the crush, which parted in anticipation of the second part of his act, pulling himself out a seat as soon as he reached the table.
“Sit down, why don’t you, Harry,” I said.
He looked over at Heidi and raised a querying eyebrow.
“This is Heidi.” I nodded towards her. “Heidi, this is one of Edward and Julian’s friends from the bank.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Harry said, with practised charm.
“Harry,” Victoria cooed as she made her way back to our table. She fluttered her eyelashes. “How are you?”
“Victoria, you look lovelier than ever. I hope Julian appreciates just what a gem you are.” He added a leer. “If not, then let me know. I’ll be happy to step in and pick up any slack.”
“Oh, Harry, you are naughty.” She tittered, clearly loving every minute of the attention. Heidi looked across at me and rolled her eyes.
“Where are the boys?” Harry asked, looking around. “Sharking in another part of the bar?” He grinned. In the past, Harry had always been one of Edward’s wingmen. Given what had happened at the wedding, Edward could have been doing exactly that. But his more recent behaviour – the thoughtfulness and general attentiveness – made me less sure now. “He’s a fool, Samantha.” He sidled closer to me, leaning in so he could whisper in my ear, “I’ve always told him he was mad to be sipping cava when he had Champagne at home.”
“Harry,” Edward said, his voice cold, his timing impeccable.
Harry jumped away from me.
“Good to see you.” I’d never heard Edward sound less sincere.
“Edward.” Harry stood, and shook his hand, before turning to greet Julian and Paul.
Edward moved his stool back in beside my own, pulling me towards him for another kiss. This possessive behaviour was getting old fast – no matter how annoying Harry was.
Curious eyes watched us whilst we chatted, especially every time Edward reached out to touch me – which was often. Harry sat back and made himself comfortable, seemingly disinclined to move on, despite the hard looks Edward kept throwing his way. He had the hide of a rhinoceros, his choice to squeeze in next to me a deliberate “fuck you” to Edward. In the meantime, Heidi had a huge grin on her face and looked like someone who’d settled in to watch a good show.
Edward placed his hand on my thigh, fingers caressing me gently, as the conversation wove a familiar path through news about mutual friends and acquaintances; who was seeing whom, who was engaged or expecting. There was even our first divorce.
“Hopefully we’ll be next,” Edward piped up, squeezing my hand.
A silence settled around the table, then everyone spoke at once: “What, marriage or a baby?” Heidi said.
“You have to be kidding me! You’ve certainly changed your tune,” Victoria spluttered.
My mouth, which must have been hanging open at his words, snapped closed as I turned toward Victoria. I’d had a suspicion she and Edward had had a thing together a year or so before. About the time every other comment Edward made had been to tell me how wonderful Victoria was compared to me. I guessed, from her reaction to Edward’s remark, I’d just gotten my answer. She blushed under my scrutiny and Edward’s scowl. Julian smiled on, oblivious.
“Both,” Edward replied to Heidi, choosing to ignore Victoria’s outburst. “As soon as possible.” He rubbed my tummy as if we were already incubating something in there. For all he knew we were, I supposed, considering all talk of condoms had long been forgotten and I’d yet to confess my use of the pill. Heidi’s horrified expression mirrored exactly how I felt.
“Who the fuck are you? And what have you done with Edward?” Harry said. “Seriously, man, what’s the matter with you?” It was funny to hear someone say exactly what I’d been thinking, along with everyone else around the table. The rest of us were just too polite to say anything out loud.
“You’re not funny, Harry,” Edward said, an edge to his voice.
“Neither are you, man. I mean, I know you nearly died, but shit . . . really? Oh, Serena asked after you the other day. I passed on your number.” He necked what was left of his pint and stood to leave.
My cheeks heated with embarrassment as all eyes swivelled away from Harry towards me, a uniform look of horror on their faces. Only Edward appeared confused. “She’s the girl you shagged at Julian and Victoria’s wedding,” I supplied, before finishing my own drink, then standing and pulling on my jacket. I nodded to Heidi, who smiled in understanding, then pushed my way out through the crowd, pausing to catch my breath once I’d broken through the fog of smokers huddling in the doorway.
“Look, I’m sorry for hurting you, Sam,” Harry said, sidling up beside me. I hadn’t noticed him standing there, imagining he’d made a hasty getaway. “I mean, I couldn’t take all his hypocritical lovey-dovey shit when he was shagging that other girl only a few weeks ago.”
“Pot, meet kettle. Nice of you to bring it up in front of everyone.”
“Yeah, well, at least I’m single. I’ve never lied to the women I’ve slept with. I’ve never told any of them that it was anything more than a mutually satisfying shag. Not like him. You’re better than that schmuck. He doesn’t deserve you. Certainly not as a wife, for fuck’s sake.”
“Oh, and you do?” I laughed at the absurdity of the conversation.
“Probably not,” he admitted. “But if I had you waiting at home for me, I’d treat you a damn sight better than he ever has.”
The punch came out of nowhere. Next thing I knew, Harry lay flat out on the ground as Edward pummelled him. “Edward, stop,” I screamed, pulling futilely at his shirt while he continued to rain punches and kicks down on Harry’s foetal form. Harry remained still, his arms wrapped protectively over his head.
People shuffled closer to watch, but no one stepped in to help, as I screamed for Edward to stop, still tugging on the back of his shirt to little effect.
“Alright boys, pack it in.” Two bouncers arrived and pulled Edward off. Harry’s face looked blo
ody, one eye already swelling.
“Stay out of my fucking life!” Edward shouted, his face reddened, spittle flying, eyes bulbous with rage, as he pulled against the bouncer’s grip to free himself.
“You’re a fucking madman,” Harry shot back. “She’ll see through your act. She doesn’t know about half the women you’ve fuc–”
Edward lunged again. My heart plummeted. The confirmation that there were more than I knew about made me feel sick again. I turned and left, knowing Edward would be forced to wait while the police were called.
As I walked home, I tried to work out why it still hurt so much. I’d known Edward was an arse. I’d known he was shagging around. Hell, I’d broken up with the guy because of it. Somehow, since the accident, I’d allowed him to flatter and charm me into loving him yet again. Stupid, I scolded myself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Once home, I showered and washed the makeup off my face, slipping into my pyjamas, hugely relieved to take off my jeans before climbing into bed and curling up into a foetal position of my own. Maybe it would protect me from the hurt Edward continued to inflict on me. I ignored the relentless texts and calls from Edward, Heidi and even Victoria that had been blowing up my phone since I’d left the pub. Instead, I switched the phone to silent. They could all wait until tomorrow, when I’d decide what the hell to do.
A couple of hours later Edward arrived home. I kept still and pretended to be asleep. He undressed and showered, before climbing into the bed beside me, his smell familiar and comforting. His arms enfolded me, his lips pressing against the back of my neck.
Silent tears slipped down my cheeks and onto my pillow as he held me, until the emotion became too much. I took a sobbing breath.
He turned me slowly, forcing himself into my line of vision. One of his eyes looked blackened, and his nose showed evidence of swelling. I tried to turn my head away. “Look at me, Sam. Please. I’m sorry. I don’t want anything between us anymore. Nothing.” He drew a deep breath. “Before the accident, I didn’t appreciate you like I should have. I know that. I was a fool. But it’s different now. I’m different. You’ve seen that, haven’t you?”
I nodded slowly.
“I don’t want anyone else. I’ll prove it to you, again and again, until you believe me. It’s different now . . . I’m different now.”
“Why? Why are you different?”
Chapter 10
Edward never answered my question. Instead, he’d kissed me, then made love to me, until my concerns became whispers in the back of my mind. Just under a week later, I was beginning to believe him when he said he only wanted me. He’d continued to be attentive, almost overly attentive. This evening I’d escaped with Heidi for drinks, but it had taken a lot of persuading. He’d wanted me to stay home with him for fear I’d meet someone else. In the end, I’d lost it with him and told him he’d have to trust me, the same as I was trying to learn to trust him, which had shut him up.
Heidi was full of beans, excited to share her ovulation status and the copious amounts of sex she’d been having with Paul as a result. “It was only the number of kids who get knocked up after a drinking a couple of WKDs that dragged me away tonight,” she said. The result of her graphic oversharing was I’d drunk a lot more than I’d intended, especially given I had to work the next day.
We were on our second bottle of wine in an obscure little bar in the middle of Camden when Harry walked through the door. What were the chances? I grimaced, shrinking down in my seat in the hope he wouldn’t notice us. He stopped in the doorway, his gaze sweeping the bar until his eyes landed on mine. Then he cut an immediate path through the post-work city crowd, straight toward our table.
Heidi caught sight of my horrified expression and turned. “Is that the same guy from the pub?” I’d filled her in on the whole Harry versus Edward streetfighter episode.
“Sorry to bother you ladies,” Harry said, sliding into one of the free seats at our table without asking permission. “Can I get either of you a drink?”
“No, I think we’re good, thanks.” I nodded towards the new bottle of red wine in front of us. “Are you okay?” I stared at the already yellowing bruises on his face. The ones around his neck seemed worse, a vivid red band circling his throat. I shuddered, imagining how angry Edward must have been to have throttled him that hard.
“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks.” He certainly looked fine – well, apart from the fading bruises – far better than I’d imagined he would, given the beating I’d seen him take. “Actually,” he said, sounding embarrassed, “I’m glad I bumped into you. I wanted to apologise for what I said the other night.”
Astonished, I waited for the punchline. It didn’t come.
“I shouldn’t have butted in where I wasn’t wanted. You and Edward seem to be making a go of things. He’s a good guy, and he cares a lot about you. I deserved a beating for sticking my nose in. I should’ve known better.”
I stared at Harry, wondering if my mouth was hanging open like Heidi’s.
“Well, anyway, that’s it, really. I was jealous . . . I envy what you’ve got together . . . I hope I’m half as lucky one day. Have a good night, ladies.” He nodded at us in turn before standing up and walking off.
“What the fuck was that?” Heidi said.
“Who the fuck was that, rather?” I murmured. “I mean, Harry’s always been a manwhore and proud of it. ‘I hope I’m half as lucky’, my arse. He’d run away screaming if a woman suggested a second date, let alone marriage.”
“Did Edward set that up? Even if he did, why on earth would Harry go along with it?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I was waiting for him to press GBH charges. Edward kicked the shit out of him the other day – in front of a pub full of witnesses. Instead, Harry’s here talking about how the beating was understandable, and how Edward was within his rights. Bullshit. It’s a complete and utter mind fuck. There’s a lot of it about.”
“Tell me about it,” she agreed, pouring us both another large glass of wine. “I suggest we block all the stress out with copious amounts of alcohol.” She raised her glass. I clinked my own against it before taking a hearty gulp.
By the end of the second bottle, my head was reeling. I giggled, sitting on the toilet, the cubicle walls spinning around me. The night had been the most fun I’d enjoyed in ages, but for the nagging voice reminding me I needed to go home soon if I wanted any chance of making my customer appointment. Thankfully the meeting was a local one.
“Spoilsport.” Heidi pouted when I explained as much to her.
“What about Paul? He’s waiting at home to make beautiful babies with you.” That was all it took.
My head was doing a good impression of a Waltzer ride as I hunted for keys in my oversized bag. I wished I’d thought to take a smaller one out with me, instead of the monster I used for work. I leant against the door, propping the bag on my knee as I rummaged, knowing they were hidden somewhere within its depths. When the door opened suddenly, I fell forward, straight into Edward, the bag and all its contents scattering inside the hallway.
“Hey, baby, have a good night?” He grinned at me as I staggered against his chest.
“Hi.” I grinned back, peering up at him, registering again just how handsome he was. “Did you miss me?”
He swept me into his arms in response, kicked the front door closed with one foot, and carried me into the bedroom.
“Like Richard Gere.” I giggled.
“Is that good?” He laid me carefully down.
“Very,” I purred. Any inhibitions had long since been dissolved in red wine. “I want you.”
He grinned. “You’ve got me.” He unbuttoned my blouse slowly, worshiping each part of my body as he revealed it.
Afterwards, he pulled me into his arms, my body sated, holding me until I fell asleep. In the last moments between sleep and wakefulness, I felt as near to happy with Edward as I ever remembered being.
***
The light seemed brighter than i
t should have been when I opened my eyes. My head throbbed, my mouth feeling parched, almost as though I had been desiccated during the night. I rolled over and found nothing, the bed beside me empty and cold. My eyes flickered towards the digital display on the clock radio Edward kept on his bedside table. It was twenty-five to ten.
“Fuck!” I flung back the covers and stood quickly. My head protested the movement a beat after I hit upright, a wave of nausea rolling over me. I had a midday appointment with a consultant anaesthetist I couldn’t afford to miss. I’d been trying to see him for ages, but this was the first time he’d granted me an actual appointment. I squinted at my watch, confirming the time, and then ran to the shower, trying to ignore the pounding in my brain. Edward must have switched off my alarm, or I’d forgotten to set it in my drunken stupor.
I rinsed myself, stepped out and then dried off quickly, noting that even the towel hurt today. I was grateful to have not needed to wash my hair as I pinned it up into a messy bun. I tried to hide the skin-ravaging after-effects of too much alcohol, but it was very much a patch job. My eyes looked bloodshot, and my skin parched.
I dug inside the bathroom cabinet for paracetamol, relieved when I found a packet with a couple left in it. I necked them quickly, washing them down with water straight from the bathroom tap, my head tilted to one side as I tried not to remove my recently applied foundation. Then I ran back into the bedroom and found a clean white blouse that I paired with a favourite black shift dress which forgave everything. I dressed, promising myself I’d sort my shit out at the weekend. Thank God it was Friday.
Another glance at my watch told me I had twenty minutes before I needed to be out the door, if I wanted to make the twenty-minute drive to the hospital and arrive at my appointment in good time.
I hurried into the lounge but stopped short when I found Edward sitting silently on one of the chairs, his body hunched forward, hand clutching something, his head bowed. “Oh, you’re here. I assumed you were at work you were so quiet,” I said as I wandered into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. “I overslept,” I called through to him. He didn’t reply. I walked back into the lounge while the kettle boiled. Edward sat motionless and stared down at his hands. “Why aren’t you at work? Do you want tea? Hey, are you okay?” I added, concerned when I got no response. “Are you feeling okay?”
