Never Again
Page 17
The moment I got outside, my skin felt too tight. Nine. I undid the top buttons of my blouse and fanned at my face with my hand, trying to breathe, to get some air. Nine women. I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t make the number sit right inside my mind. Nine. For the past ten years I’d been sharing Jack with nine other women. Had they known that? Had they all known what a fool I was? How epically blind?
Shaking my head, I choked back a sob and started walking down the street, getting faster and faster until I broke into a run. I ran all the way to ACU, all the way to the lecture hall I knew Bran would be in. Students were filing out of the door when I arrived, but there was only one I wanted to see. Needed to see.
I saw his head and shoulders first, rising above the other students. As soon as our eyes met, I pushed forward to get to him, flinging myself against his chest and into his open arms. “What happened?” he murmured against my hair, his hands rubbing the backs of my arms. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head, crying into his chest as he held me tight. I didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to admit my stupidity or think about Jack in any way. I just needed Bran to hold me.
When I didn’t explain, I felt his sigh as his arms tightened their embrace. “It’s OK, baby. I’ll take care of you.”
“Open.” Bran held up a spoon of minestrone soup he’d ordered from room service.
Dutifully, I did his bidding, sitting in the centre of his bed wrapped in a big white robe, eating the tomato-based soup that was perhaps a little too salty. Still, it nourished my fatigued mind.
When I swallowed, Bran ran the backs of his fingers down the side of my cheek. “Want to tell me what all this was about?”
I shook my head. “I’d rather forget it ever happened.”
His brow furrowed with concern as my eyes watered again. “Did someone hurt you? If they did I’ll—” He made a fist and his knuckles cracked.
I placed my hand on his. “No. Well, not physically anyway. My pride has taken a beating, but that’s really all.”
“Your pride?”
I thought it over for a moment, trying to figure out a way to explain it without bursting into tears again. “It’s just…am I enough for you?”
Eyeing me carefully, he set the bowl of soup to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Sexually. Am I enough for you?”
“Are you enough? Baby, you’re more than enough. I can’t fucking stop thinking about you, and when I think about you I want to fuck you. And I think that about all the time.”
“So, you don’t wish I was more adventurous, or experienced?”
“No. Where is this coming from? Are you freaking out about the age thing again?”
“I don’t know.” I looked down at my hands and frowned. “Maybe.”
With a heavy breath, he climbed into bed with me, curling his body around mine like a big spoon. Then he pressed a soft kiss against the back of my neck. “You are more than enough. To me, our age difference doesn’t matter. I wish it didn’t matter so much to you because there is no one—no one—on this earth I’d rather be with at any given moment.”
Closing my eyes, I pulled his arm even tighter around me and snuggled against his warmth. I didn’t know how true those words were. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Bran, it was that Jack had lied to me for so long that words had lost their meaning. The only thing I felt I could believe were actions. “Just hold me,” I whispered.
“Always,” he replied, his lips pressing against my shoulder.
I knew I could probably tell him about Jack, lump my problems on him and perhaps he’d be able to sympathise with the position I was in, but that wasn’t what we were to each other. We were sex. We were passion. We were a feeling. Having him near was all the comfort I needed. I didn’t need to voice my problems for him to make me feel whole. I didn’t want to colour our situation with the drama from my marriage. We worked the way we were. So instead of speaking any more useless words, I closed my eyes, drifting into a deep dreamless sleep.
24
Jack: we need to talk
Me: there’s nothing left to talk about
Jack: who’s the guy?
The message came through with a photo of Bran and me leaving the university yesterday. His arm was around me, and I was pressed tightly against him. It was very intimate to look at, even for me. How the hell did he get this?
My hand went to my mouth.
Did he follow me?
Obviously taking my silence for the shock it was, Jack started typing again.
Jack: Bluebag Café on Collins. 15 mins
I looked at Bran’s sleeping form, my heart squeezing a little because I was terrified. People were finding out. It didn’t matter how well we fit together, at this stage of our lives we couldn’t work. He was still at uni. I was in the middle of a marriage breakdown. I was his boss. He was my boss’s son. My reason for years of sacrifice could be over the second this photo was delivered to the wrong hands. Fuck.
With my eyes closed, I blew out a calming breath, my eyes burning at the thought of letting him go. God, what had I been thinking running to him like that in the open?
Me: I’ll be there
Slipping out of bed, I moved about the room as quietly as possible, pulling on my clothes but keeping my shoes off until I was on the other side of the door. Bran was still sleeping soundly, and I took a moment to drink him in. I could hear our clock ticking, and I honestly didn’t want it to end. How was I going to go back to being alone when I’d experienced him? The idea made my insides ache.
Checking my appearance in the mirrored elevator, I pulled my brush from my bag and ran it through my hair. I didn’t have a scrap of makeup on, but had to make do with a swipe of clear gloss on my lips and pinched cheeks. It’s all the ride to the lobby allowed for.
Stepping through the doors, I headed out into the cool morning, my head down as I typed out an explanation to Bran.
Me: thanks for last night. gone home to get ready. See you at work
It was a boldfaced lie that sat heavy in my stomach, so I switched my phone to silent and hid it away from view in my bag.
A few minutes later, I was sliding into a chair across from Jack. He’d already ordered coffee and there was a plate of fruit toast waiting as well. The sweet spices tickled my nose and made my stomach growl even though I didn’t feel hungry.
“I followed you yesterday,” he started. No hello. No how are you. Just straight to the point.
“I figured.” To distract myself from reacting badly, I took a bite of the warm toast. “Thank you, by the way,” I said, pointing to the food.
He nodded once, but kept his brown eyes hard as he studied me. “Who is he?”
“He’s none of your business. Why did you follow me?”
“We said some really shitty things to each other yesterday, and I’d thought, maybe a breakthrough. You left upset. You ran. I was worried. But we didn’t have a breakthrough at all, did we? He’s why you’ve been so resistant to the therapy, right? This whole time I’ve been thinking we were working on our marriage and you were off banging some kid.”
I laughed through my nose. “You’re the reason I’m adverse to therapy. You and your harem of nine.”
“At least I’m trying.”
“To what? Make my life miserable? Congratulations. So far you’ve been a roaring success.”
“To get help. I know I fucked up.”
“You fucked up nine times.” Picking up my coffee, I took a mouthful, closing my eyes to stop any tears. My heart felt torn to shreds by this man.
“I’m trying to better myself. I’m seeing Dr Montgomery on my own as well as with you.” Dr Montgomery? Who the hell is that? Oh, Mr. Magoo. I’d never actually registered his real name. “He says that sex addiction is a real problem that can be fixed with counselling and honesty.”
I almost spat coffee down my chin. “Sex addiction?” Laughter bounced in my chest. “You’re not serious?”
“I’m deadl
y serious. The overwhelming need to seek sexual gratification is a real thing. I’m learning to control it, and if you’d just give me the chance, I know we could make this marriage of ours work.”
“I gave you eleven years, Jack. I don’t have any more for you. This isn’t about what you want any more. It’s about what I want.”
“What you want? You’re telling me this new guy is more important than fixing our marriage? What is he? The new love of your life?”
“He’s none of your business.”
“I’m your husband, Cora. If you’re sleeping with some other guy, it’s definitely my business.”
Pushing the plate and the coffee away from me, I shook my head and looked away. “You have no right, Jack. You cheated on me, repeatedly, had me removed from my own home, ruined the state of my career, and forced me into counselling by dangling only the hope of righting some of that wrong in front of me. I keep telling you that I’m done. You’ve completely obliterated any love I had for you. There is no going back for us, Jack. Accept it and move the fuck on. I want nothing more from you than a divorce.” I stood to leave, dropping a twenty on the table. “My attorney will be in touch.”
“Brandon Sharp,” he called after me, freezing me in my tracks.
“What did you just say?” I moved back to the table, keeping my voice low.
He grinned. “That’s his name, isn’t it? Son of the Director of Public Prosecutions. Your intern.”
Pursing my lips, I slid back into my seat and clasped my hands in front of me. “Why all the questions if you already knew who he was?”
“Perhaps I was giving you the chance to come clean over your affair. Same way I came clean over mine.”
I choked out a laugh at the audaciousness of his comment. “It hardly compares.” He only came clean because I caught him mid-fuck.
“Let’s see.” He reached down beside him and pulled a folder from his bag, dropping it on the table in front of me. “You’ve been sneaking around with him for at least three months, maybe more, and no one knows about you.” He flipped open the folder and spread a bunch of pictures in front of me. “Looks a lot like an affair to me. We’ve even got a few compromising positions in there. I can’t imagine you’ve disclosed this relationship to your boss, his dad. I doubt he’d be as understanding as I am. Especially when the reason young Brandon was dragged back down here was because he was caught having an affair with one of his teachers.”
“What?” I pushed the photos aside, finding the report that detailed my recent whereabouts as well as Bran’s history. Sure enough, it was all there in black and white. He’d narrowly avoided a suspension and she was transferred to another university. Did he have a predilection for older women? I closed the file, not wanting any more information. I’d had all I could handle. “I can’t believe you had me followed, Jack. Let me guess, another suggestion from your attorney?”
“He’s very thorough.” He took the file back and slid it into his bag.
“I’ll bet. Exactly what are you planning to do with all that? Blackmail me into going back to you?”
“Well, your job is the most important thing in your life. All I’m asking is one more chance.”
I opened my mouth to object, but I knew he was right. I had nothing to say to that comment. Absolutely nothing.
“Get rid of the kid. Someone that young can’t be any more than a rebound anyway, and come back to counselling with me. Take it seriously this time, and I promise I’ll revoke that order. You can even move back into the house.”
Give up Bran. Save my career. Get my house back. Give Jack one more chance. It was a short list with massive consequences. Two things had been at the top of my goal list for months. But as I sat there, focussing on what he offered me, the cost far outweighed the reward. “I don’t want to live in that house anymore,” I said, my voice awfully quiet.
Jack smiled like he thought he was getting his way. “Then we’ll sell, get something new. Just give us a real chance to work things out and your life can go back to what it was. I’ll be the best husband you can imagine.”
My breath stilled in my chest. The offer created an acrid taste in my mouth. For so long, I’d lived for my work. Jack wasn’t wrong about that. Having lost that element of my life, I’d felt incomplete without it. Well, until Bran came into my life anyway. Ever since he came along, everything had felt a thousand times better. It actually made me realise how empty I’d felt when I was with Jack. We’d cohabited while living separate lives. With Bran, even though it was still new, we were more together than I ever felt with Jack. Bran wasn’t a rebound. He was a realignment of my soul. My heart. My mind. And while I knew the idea of officially dating a man ten years my junior sounded crazy, I also knew I’d be crazy to give up what we had—especially at the behest of a manipulative arsehole like Jack. No. Fuck that. Fuck Jack. Bran was far more important to me than any of this bullshit being held over my head. The only real question left was: why the fuck am I still sitting here?
“No,” I said, my head shaking, my eyes locked on Jack’s. “I won’t give him up. Not for you. Not for anyone.”
His expression morphed in surprise, his forehead creasing. “What about your job?”
I shrugged. “Fuck my job.” I couldn’t believe those words came out of my mouth. But I meant them. “And fuck you too, Jack. You were never going to revoke that order. I was a fool to ever believe you would.” Picking up my bag, I stood to leave.
“You’re seriously in love with this guy?” he scoffed, disbelief in his eyes.
Maybe…
I picked up my twenty and shoved it in my pocket. I considered it tax for him wasting my time. “I don’t know, Jack. It’s still new. But I do know one thing for certain. Brandon Sharp is a better man at twenty than you’ve ever been in your entire life.” Spinning on my heel, I took off down the street. The next time I spoke to Jack, I hoped it was during our divorce proceedings.
25
I needed Olivia. I needed to talk to her about Jack and the information bomb of a folder he had that he could detonate at any moment. I needed her usually calm brain to help me figure out what to do about it: should I tell the director before he could? Or did I sit on the information and hope Jack didn’t use it against me? I was too involved and agitated to work it out on my own.
Unfortunately, my need for clarity would have to wait. For the past couple of months, Olivia’s morning sickness had been in full force, and she’d taken reduced hours because of it. It was the first time since she’d contracted Bird flu in 2010 that she’d taken any sort of time off before the holiday period. Back then, she’d been dreadfully ill for almost two weeks and would only let me visit through the door so she didn’t spread her germs. I’d bring her soup and pick up her medication then tell her about all the office happenings she was missing out on. It kept her in the loop.
This time was different though. Office gossip was of no comfort; from six weeks onwards, she felt queasy from sun up to sun down. It had seemed to ease off a little now that she was in her second trimester, but she was still struggling with the effect pregnancy hormones were having on her body. She was tired and irritable. I really felt bad for her. Which was why I wasn’t already on the phone to her whining about my own problems. She had enough of her own, and she needed her rest. Instead, I headed straight for my office and crossed my fingers in the hope that Jack wouldn’t do anything until I’d figured my side of things out. I also crossed my toes—it had always worked for me as a kid.
Needing to keep my mind from fretting, I thought about Olivia and her growing belly. It was something I hadn’t considered in my own desire to start a family. I’d kind of convinced myself that I’d breeze through pregnancy, work up until the kid was born, then hire a nanny so my career wouldn’t be stalled at all. Like many of my previous outlooks on life, that too had been naïve. Babies changed everything—pregnancy changed everything. From the moment that test showed positive, life had completely changed for my best friend.
“Yes. She should be in after lunch. Paul is taking her to get their twenty-week scan done. They might find out the sex of the baby,” I responded, smiling. I couldn’t wait to shower that little bundle of theirs with pink or blue Wondersuits.
“She’s letting him be more involved now? That’s a good thing, right?” Olivia had been incredibly resistant to any of Paul’s attempts to take care of her, but as the morning sickness got the better of her, she started to come around. Based on her vague information, he was eagerly at her beck and call.
“I think he’s wearing her down.” I pressed my lips together in a small smile. It was an odd beginning, but it seemed they were making the most of it.
Bran checked over his shoulder before speaking again, making sure no one was listening. “Are you OK? I was worried when you were gone this morning.”
“I’m fine. Like I said, I needed fresh clothes. But thanks for being there for me yesterday. It meant a lot.”
He pressed the tips of his fingers against the wood of the table. “You can come to me any time. If you haven’t guessed already, I kind of like taking care of you.”
His words made me feel warm inside, because I knew they were sincere. He’d given me zero reason to doubt him. “Do you see yourself having kids some day?” I asked suddenly, the idea spending far too much time on my mind of late. With everything I stood to lose if our relationship got out, I needed to know exactly where he stood and how he saw his future playing out.
He shrugged. “Eventually, I guess. I’m not in any hurry though.”
“I see.” I wasn’t sure if that answer disappointed me or not.
He lowered his head slightly, studying my expression. “Why? Do you want kids?”
“I do,” I answered honestly. “When, I don’t know. It’s just that I’m thirty soon, and with what’s happening with Olivia, it’s kind of on my mind. I’d always thought that by this point in my life I’d at least be planning them.”