Never Again

by Lilliana Anderson

  “How’s the new position working out for you, anyway?”

  What the hell was this? I wanted to shake him. “It sucks, Jack. I didn’t work my arse off to graduate with honours so I could be a glorified babysitter.”

  “You were working too hard before, anyway.”

  “That’s not for you to decide.” I folded my arms across my chest.

  “Saw a picture of you on Facebook. You were all dressed up. Friday night, I think. You dating now?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business. But, I went out with Olivia for a few drinks,” I told him, growing impatient because this conversation wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I didn’t like it.”

  “Seeing me dressed up to go out?” I scoffed. “That’s great. And how’s Sally? I heard she’s the newspaper’s top accountant. How wonderful. Did she choose your suit today?”

  A slow smile spread across his lips. “We aren’t together anymore.”

  “Oh.” I pouted mockingly. “Did she catch you cheating?”

  “No. It just wasn’t a long-term thing. Not like you and me.”

  “There is no you and me anymore, Jack. You tore my heart from my chest and stomped all over it. I trusted you, and now all I can do is look back over the last decade of my life and wonder how many times I didn’t catch you. How many women have I unknowingly shared you with?”

  Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out another cigarette and slipped it between his lips. “I’m sorry,” he said with a shrug as he lit up. It was the most insincere apology I’d ever heard. I’d seen sociopaths take the stand and show more remorse than he just did. Even worse, he didn’t deny it. He shrugged it off. Bastard.

  “What exactly are you sorry for, Jack? Sorry for cheating? Sorry because I caught you? Or, sorry for destroying my life with this stupid order?”

  “All of it, I guess.” He blew a stream of smoke out of his nose and squinted against the sun. I guess? What the fuck?

  With a short huff of air, I shook my head. “You guess,” I parroted, running my hand through my hair in agitation. “You know, I thought that maybe when I came over here, you wanted to truly apologise for all you’d done—for all you’re putting me through. But that’s not the case at all. You’re still as self-obsessed as you always were.”

  “That’s not fair, Cora. I really am sorry for everything that’s happened. We were happy and I messed up.”

  “Then go inside and end this mess. Tell them I’m not a danger to you. Give me my life back, Jack. Everything I’ve worked for is on the line here.”

  He lifted his brow. “Who’s being the selfish one now?”

  My mouth opened, ready to refute that comment and remind him which one of us still had their full job and a house to live in. But I closed it again, knowing that whatever came out of my mouth next would drip in venom. Jack wasn’t the man I thought he was, probably never was. I’d spent most of my adult life deluding myself. It was time to stop.

  A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me, and I looked toward the entrance. “We need to go inside, Jack.” There was no point in talking to him anymore.

  “Wait.” He placed his hand on my arm to stop me. “I mean it, Cor…I really miss you.”

  I laughed a hollow laugh, my hands dropping to my sides. “You miss me?” Had he let me go, I could have possibly saved face. But those words, spoken as though he was some sort of victim, set off a vibration inside me that started in my chest and manifested into a red-hot ball of angry words that couldn’t be swallowed down. Futility be damned, I was going to have my say. I turned on him. “You? The man who took out a fucking intervention order against me and got me demoted? The man who got me removed from my house that I still pay half for? The man who fucked another woman in my goddamn bed.” I spat the last few words out between clenched teeth. I was shaking, my finger pointing in his face.

  “Come on, Cor. Every couple goes through a rough patch. Maybe we can just put all this behind us and get on with things. We were good together.” He was so calm. I wanted to punch him in the nuts. Then he reached one of those lovely hands out and brushed my hair back from my face as if he had the right to put his hands on me.

  I flinched at his touch. I was offended by his words and pulled my hair behind my shoulders so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch it again. “You think I can put this behind me?” I asked incredulously. “I saw you, Jack. Saw you fucking another woman on the Egyptian cotton sheets we were given as a wedding present. I will never be able to get that image out of my head.”

  Jack’s expression darkened, his eyes focused on a spot lower than my face. “What the fuck is that?” he demanded, pointing at my neck.

  “What is what?” I snapped, touching at my neck in confusion before it dawned on me. The hickey. I pulled my hair back over my shoulder to cover it again.

  “Are you fucking serious? You’re standing here acting all high and mighty with a fucking hickey on your neck?”

  “Fuck you, Jack. Not that it’s any of your business but it’s not a hickey.”

  “Then what is it? A mouth-shaped bruise?”

  I jutted out my chin. “Yes.”

  “You’re full of shit, Cora. We’ve been apart, what? Three months, and you’ve already got some guy sucking on your neck? What else did you do together? Did you fuck him? Did you?”

  “Shut up, Jack, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Poor broken-hearted Cora was so upset she went out and fucked some guy. Probably didn’t even wait a month. What a slut.”

  I heard the slap before I felt the sting on my palm, felt the sting on my palm before I realised it was my hand that did the slapping.

  A sardonic grin curved his lips as his cheek bloomed bright red from the sting.

  “Good luck getting your precious life back now.”

  My body shaking, I looked into that handsome face of his and saw nothing but a self-centred, bitter man. How had I ever loved him? How had I been so blind that I wasted so many years of my life on him? I felt sick to my stomach, trapped in the middle of a nightmare I didn’t know how to wake up from.

  “Fuck you, Jack,” I spat, turning on my heel before I lost control and hit him again.

  As I headed for the front doors, I heard him call after me. “No. Fuck you, Cora. Oh, wait; some guy has already done that.” Then to make matters worse, he started asking bystanders if they’d seen me hit him. Things were going from bad to worse.

  Olivia was out the doors before I even got there and fell into step beside me. “What the hell just happened?”

  “He taunted me. I lost control.”

  “What did he say to you?” She balled up her fists and headed in his direction, intent on defending me. I grabbed her arms and pulled her inside, toward the clerk to report in.

  “It doesn’t matter now. Let’s just get through this.” I was trying really hard not to cry from the stress of the situation, I didn’t want her confronting him and making things any worse. I’d just guaranteed myself a life in the toilet. All those years of study. All those years of working my arse off to prove myself at the OPP were for naught. I’d never get accepted into the barrister’s course. I might even lose my job at the OPP all together.

  Stopping at the end of the line, I closed my eyes and shook my head slightly. “The gall of that man,” I gasped. “He actually had the balls to suggest we get back together.”

  “Is that what the slap was for?”

  I shook my head. “He saw the love bite on my neck and started making out like I was a shameless slut.”

  She turned for the door again. “I’ll scratch his fucking eyes out.”

  Grabbing her, I held her by my side. “Don’t, Olivia. I already lost control and now I’m fucked. He doesn’t need any more ammunition.”

  Looking into my eyes, she relaxed her stance. “Maybe we just get in there and see what we can do? Not all is lost just yet.”

  “His cheek is bright red, Liv. There are witnesses.” It w
as our turn with the clerk. I released my breath and ran my hand through my hair. “Cora Knowles,” I informed her.

  “Did you bring representation?”

  “Ah, yes. Counsellor Olivia Beecham, um, QC.”

  “You brought a Queen’s Council to a magistrate’s court?” Scoffing, she shook her head. “She’s not going to like that.” She made a note next to my name then looked up and pointed down the corridor with her pen. “You’ll be heard in courtroom four. Please take a seat until your name is called.”

  “I’m sorry, but, who isn’t going to like it? Who’s the magistrate for the hearing?” Olivia asked, looking concerned.

  The clerk looked bored as she released a hefty sigh. “Magistrate O’Sullivan is presiding today.”

  Olivia’s body went rigid. “Thank you,” she squeaked.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked as we headed toward room four.

  “You were right. We’re fucked.”

  “What do you mean? A second ago you were hopeful.”

  “Well, I was. Until I found out who was presiding. Magistrate O’Sullivan hates me.”

  That was all I needed. “Hates you? But why?”

  Olivia swallowed a lump in her throat before she ruefully explained herself. “Because…I fucked her husband.”

  I stopped walking as my jaw hit the floor. “Are you fucking serious, Olivia?”

  She held up her hands in supplication. “I promise you I didn’t know he was married.”

  7

  “In my defence, he’d told me they were on a break at the time,” Olivia said, stubbing out her second cigarette in half an hour. We were sitting outside a pub not far from the courthouse trying to drown our sorrows after our loss. I hated infidelity. It had never been something I had any sympathy for, and now that I was on the receiving end of such abhorrent behaviour, I hated it even more. The fact Olivia had been the other woman in some other couple’s marriage was a cruel reminder that my friend had not always been the flawless, wise woman I thought her to be. Now I was paying not only for her mistake, but for Jack’s as well. What was wrong with the world? It felt like I was the only one suffering here, yet I was the only one who hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, I did attack my husband—twice now—but he’d totally deserved it. No one in their right mind could argue against that. Unless of course, that person happened to be a woman scorned by your legal counsel…

  Olivia had been right. The magistrate did hate her. One look at the cold stare in that woman’s eyes and I knew defeat was inevitable. One would think that having been bitten by the sting of betrayal that a cheating spouse incited, she would have sided with me and understood that I was no danger to Jack as long as he kept his philandering ways out of my face. But no, the one thing she seemed to hate more than a cheater, was a cheatee. I swear I heard her cough the word ‘homewrecker’ while Olivia was speaking on more than one occasion. It pissed me off that my case wasn’t being heard independent to the magistrate’s desire for poorly disguised revenge. But she’d seemed more intent on recording a loss on Olivia’s case history than she had been on giving me a fair hearing.

  Now, I was stuck with an intervention order against me for the next twelve months and was going to have to arrange for the police to be present so I could move the rest of my stuff out of the house. This was bullshit.

  “I’m so sorry, Cor.” Olivia’s downturned mouth made her look miserable. We made the perfect pair.

  “You know what?” I sighed, flicking salt off the rim of my glass. “We lost the moment I slapped him on the courthouse steps. Even you couldn’t have gotten me out of that one.”

  Normally, Olivia could win against any odds. But, neither of us was expecting today to go down the way it did, we were both totally off our game.

  “I’ll probably never stand in a courtroom again,” I lamented.

  “Don’t talk like that. We’ll appeal the order, and in twelve months, they’ll revoke it anyway. I’ll talk to the director and make sure you don’t have to worry about job security.”

  “I’ll just have to spend a year in purgatory,” I moped, slurping my margarita without bothering to lift the glass. I just stuck my tongue in the tangy liquid and curved it into a straw.

  “Don’t look at it like that. Consider it a gap year of sorts.”

  “Purgatory.”

  “It could be worse, you could have been charged for slapping him today.”

  “I know. I really messed up.”

  Reaching across the table, she squeezed my hand. “No. He messed up. You’re just the one paying the price.”

  I thought about that for a moment, again hating my husband for all he’d done to me. He wasn’t sorry. He’d been gloating. But his words. They’d stung. Like the image of him fucking his lover in my bed, his words would probably stay with me forever.

  “What a slut… Good luck getting your precious life back now.” God, I wanted to slap him again. I hated that he was making me feel bad about myself.

  “Does this really make me look like a slut?” I asked suddenly, shifting my hair to show the semi-faded hickey on my neck.

  “What? No. You are not a slut. He’s a selfish, conceited arsehole who has manipulated you long enough. You went out that night and behaved like the queen you are. You owned that dance floor, and you turned away several interested men because you had your sights set on only one. You are not and will never be a slut. You are, however, paying the price for his narcissism and egotism. Fuck Jack for even suggesting such a thing.”

  Sitting up straighter, I shook my head and then my shoulders, wriggling to try and free myself of this crappy feeling. I needed to accept what life had thrown me, even though I hated it. “You know what? Forget all of this. I’ll manage. I’ll just have to start over. I’ll find an apartment to rent and get used to tutoring graduates on the finer details of a succinct brief. Everything will be fine.”

  She shook her head. “If it had been anyone else in that court room today…”

  “You know that’s not true. The way Jack played up the pain he was in from my slap…” I released a heavy sigh. “It doesn’t matter anymore. What’s done is done, and I can’t blame you. I mean, I’m the one who bashed him over the head and took to his clothes with a pair of kitchen scissors when I should have called an ambulance. I’m the one who slapped him in plain sight.”

  “We still should have won.”

  This time it was me reaching across the table to hold her hand. “Don’t beat yourself up, Liv. I’m OK.”

  She let out a sigh. “I really hate losing.”

  “You know what? This is probably a good thing. I don’t need that house back anyway. Too many shitty memories.”

  “We’ll get him in the divorce settlement. We’ll get you a gun of a divorce lawyer. The best money can buy.”

  “Then he’ll be sorry, right?” My mouth kicked up in what was supposed to be a smile. I downed the rest of my margarita and waved at the waitress to get us another round.

  “I think you need another night out,” Olivia said, nodding as she sipped at her first drink. “That cheered you up last time.”

  I held up my hands and shook my head. “No. No.” I slapped the table in between each word. “No going out tonight. We have work tomorrow, and honestly, I’m in no mood to hook up with anyone.”

  She leaned forward, a conspiratorial glint in her eyes. “Not even if it was Green-eyes?”

  My body tingled at the mention of him, and I couldn’t help but smile for real this time.

  Olivia nodded, grinning broadly. “That’s what I thought.”

  “I think he could cheer anybody up. That body of his.” I widened my eyes and blew out my breath. “I can’t even.”

  “Maybe you should go to that hotel of his, see if he’s still staying there?”

  “Surely he’s moved on by now.” When the waitress brought over two more margaritas, I promptly disposed of the garnish and took a sip. “He probably just rented the room for the night. Like I told you, I
don’t know a single thing about him.”

  “Except that he’s an amazing fuck.”

  My cheeks heated, images of him biting and teasing flashing in my mind. “That he is.” As much as I’d love to go back for seconds, what we’d had was a perfect night. I didn’t want to alter that memory by returning to the metaphorical scene of the crime.

  “Oh, that look on your face reminds me of something. I bought you a gift for today. It was meant to be a celebration, but you’ll have to take it as a consolation instead.”

  “A gift? What is it?”

  “You’ll see,” she said with a wink.

  “What is this…a stylus?” It was pink and smooth with an ergonomic grip that fit perfectly in my hand and a long, rounded tip.

  “No.” Olivia laughed. “It’s not a stylus.”

  “Then what—Oh my!” I found a button on the grip and clicked. The tip started vibrating rapidly. “Why is this happening?”

  Olivia was laughing so hard that she had to hold her stomach. “It’s a clitoral stimulator,” she said when she got herself under control. “As soon as you told me about that tongue trick Green-eyes did, I knew you’d need this to re-live the experience. You’re welcome.”

  “You got me a clit stimulator?” This was not what I’d been expecting when I opened the beautiful gift box she’d handed me. “Um…thanks, I guess?” I put the lid back on the box and set it to the side. There was no way I was going to use that thing; it would forever remind me of this awkward moment, this shitty day, and the fact Olivia gave it to me. Unlike the Uber driver from Friday night, I did not want to think of her while I took care of business downstairs.

  Ignoring my obvious discomfort, she grinned. “They’re amazing. Enjoy it in good health.” Then she headed into the kitchen and poured us both a giant glass of wine. It was going to mess me up after the margaritas we’d already had. But I was seriously beyond caring. “We should toast to something,” she said, handing me an overflowing glass.

  I licked my hand where it dripped and gave her a vacant look. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Something positive after this god-awful day.”