"No drinking. Remember? Do you have a death wish or something?" she asked in an impatient tone.
I looked towards the ceiling. "God, not you too."
She frowned at me. "What do you mean by that?"
Shaking my head, I scowled at my phone for some time before placing it firmly back on the counter. When I glanced back at her, she had resumed her writing.
The cottage was small but luxurious, situated at the edge of the coast and contained all the necessary facilities. Two bedrooms, a living room, one bathroom and kitchen along with a small study. The fireplace was its best feature though. That was where I liked to lay down most nights when I was too exhausted from having traipsed all over the coast and nearby villages and hillsides getting amazing shots for the next photo series I was working on.
Running my fingers through my hair which I reminded myself needed a cut because it was overgrown now, I picked up my phone one more time to scroll furiously.
"Okay, seriously, what is going on with you?" Jasmine asked loudly. "It's so hard to concentrate with all that tension and agitation you're all about right now."
I didn't answer her. My eyes were glued to the phone screen. My heart thudded ecstatically and I finally allowed myself to relax, then breathe out a laugh. "Oh my God," I said, unable to stop smiling at the photo, unable to stop staring at it.
I wished there was more. Not just that one picture. But I would have to be satisfied with it. For now. Certain people had told me over the years that you could cry when you were too happy about something. I had thought that was plain bullshit...until this moment.
After about a minute, which I spent alternating between intense gazing and composing myself, I finally walked over to Jasmine.
"Hey. Look at this." I showed her the picture on my phone which Cole had posted on his Instagram. In the picture, Skye was holding her newborn baby, looking radiant and happy while Cole took a selfie of them, that boyish grin on his face. "Isn't he adorable?"
Jasmine studied the picture for a few seconds and said, "Huh."
I frowned at her slightly, lowering myself into the couch opposite her. "That's all you have to say?" I asked incredulously. I was usually such a grump but that baby boy nestled in Skye's arms even managed to make me go all soft inside.
She gave me a blank look. "Sorry. Not a fan," she said unapologetically. "I'm just not into babies."
I raised my eyebrows at her. "Okaaay. So...you don't ever wish to have children?"
She shrugged. "Nope. I don't like them. I don't want them. And I certainly don't think it's a good idea to bring them into the fucked-uppery of my life."
"Fucked-uppery," I repeated. "I hope you don't use that in your books. People will start to doubt your credibility as a writer."
Jasmine smirked at me, a lock of her dark hair falling over her cheeks.
"I haven't used it yet but I'm quite sure if I did, someone would turn it into a famous meme and the word would be considered legit."
I laughed a little at her arrogance. It wasn't annoying in the slightest, even after all these months of knowing her.
"Why are you so excited about it, anyway? It's not like it's your kid."
I widened my eyes at her careless tone despite being so used to it by now. "God, you can be a bitch sometimes," I breathed out.
Jasmine gave me a saccharine smile. "I know. I made myself into this bitch. And I'm staying this way."
I stared at the fire as she went back to her task, and slowly, hearing the crackling sound of it in the otherwise quiet of the cottage, I felt sadness creeping up on me as the initial euphoria faded. I told myself not to look at the picture again. The picture I wasn't in. Couldn't ever be in. Had no right to even hope to be in. Ever.
They were happy without me. It was a good thing.
She sensed the despair dragging me down, as she always did and put her notebook away. "I'm sorry," she murmured softly.
I couldn't speak. I didn't cry about it anymore but it still hurt so much. I had tried to get in touch with Skye so many times after coming to Ireland. I knew I didn't deserve her forgiveness but I missed her and wanted to hear her voice even if all she did was call me names and get mad. She hadn't acknowledged any of my attempts and had blocked my number and deleted all of her social media accounts two months ago.
Cole still messaged me sometimes, just to ask me how I was and tell me news from home...well, my former home...but I always ended the conversation quickly before we ventured onto heavier topics. I would bet my right hand that Skye had no idea her boyfriend was still in touch with me. Her boyfriend. Not mine.
Clearing my throat, I removed the envelope of cash from my pocket and held it out to Jasmine. "Here. Before I forget. My third installment. I hope you're keeping a record."
Her expression grew amused as she took it from me and put it beside her on the recliner. She didn't argue with me because I had made it very clear three months ago that I was not going to accept charity but I'd swallowed my fucking pride and asked her to loan me some cash instead.
I was paying her back in monthly installments from my own income now. The payment from my London at Night photo series had come through. I'd worked really hard on that job and now it was being used by a top-notch magazine in ads to promote tourism and I was receiving an insane amount of royalties for that. Enough to help my parents as well.
It had come at a huge cost though; those trips I'd made to London to make sure my work was up to par so that I'd impress the people who had hired me enough to be given more assignments. It had cost me my integrity. Even though they paid an exorbitant amount for good work, my position with them had been so tentative, I hadn't exactly been sure they would want to use my photos in the end.
So I'd kept Armaan's money. I'd become desperate. I'd kept seeing her when I'd known how wrong it was. After months of resisting, I'd finally given in to my basest, darkest desires, foolishly thinking I could come out of it intact and that no harm will be done.
What I hadn't counted on was for Jasmine to turn out to be someone with a heart that she believed could not be healed and one who dealt with her pain by acting as uncaring and devilish as possible. I hadn't counted on her genuinely liking my friendship and caring about me. I'd thought she'd only be interested in my dick.
She told me once that it was easier to be the person who was hated than to open yourself up to someone's love and end up disappointing them. Because they all eventually became disappointed at some point.
"I'm horny," I announced after I forced myself to put the phone away.
She didn't look up from her writing as she said, "Sure you are. You can't drink the pain away so the only other option is to fuck it out of your system."
I tucked my tongue in my cheek and regarded her thoughtfully. "Ever consider a career as a therapist?"
Her lips curved in a barely there smile. Then, as if she couldn't help herself, she started giggling. I didn't know what she found so amusing but I started smiling as I watched her try to catch her breath and wipe tears of mirth from her eyes. Eventually, she regained her composure, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright.
"What?" I finally asked when I knew she was ready to tell me without losing it again.
She shook her head at me, grinning slightly. "I just pictured myself as a therapist. Wearing something tight and sexy for every session and seducing all of my hottest patients. I swear, they'd be telling me their problems and I'll be trying to figure out what they're like in bed."
That made me chuckle as well because I could imagine her doing exactly that.
Absently, she sucked on the tip of her pen. "I was thinking of experimenting with women next."
My eyebrows shot up at her statement. Jasmine cocked her head at me in an inquiring manner. I let out a breath. "Now I can't stop picturing you with a woman," I told her gruffly and cleared my throat. "Seriously though, I haven't had sex in three months. I'm done moping. They've moved on. I should too."
I said those last words with anoth
er glance towards my phone and my hand snatched it up involuntarily. Unlocking the screen, I looked at the photo again. My jaw clenched, my heart felt like someone had taken a hatchet to it and I bit hard on my bottom lip. "They've moved on," I whispered again, my eyes stinging a little.
Jasmine came over to sit down beside me on the couch, covering my hand with hers. "Jasper. People aren't what they put on social media all the time," she said quietly. "You could go back. Try to talk to her. Maybe if she saw you again after all this time-"
"She hates me, Jas," I cut in flatly. "I know Skye. She doesn't have the same weakness for me that Cole does. She won't forgive me."
"But you clearly want to go back," Jasmine argued. "You miss them all the time. Look, don't worry about me. I've lost a lot of people in my life. What's one more?"
I flicked my gaze to her when she said that but she averted her face. She hated crying. Hardly ever gave in to tears. But I knew this wasn't one of those occasions.
I squeezed her hand when she tried to withdraw it. "Let me tell you a story," I began in a serious tone, shifting to face her.
"Please tell me it doesn't include Batman."
My lips twitched as I tried to hold back a laugh at the pained way she said those words. "No," I said. "It includes my father." I waited for her to look up and pursed my lips at the tears sparkling upon her eyelashes. I decided not to comment on that.
"I've never spoken about this. It never mattered once I left London and made a life for myself in Milan over ten years ago." I looked down at our enjoined hands before continuing. "My parents loved each other a lot. But...when I was eleven, my dad had an affair. With a woman from our neighbourhood. It didn't last long. My mother didn't find out. He felt so guilty about it that he confessed on his own."
I frowned a little as I recalled the facts. "I overheard them talking. He said he was sorry, that he made a mistake and it was because of all the financial stress he was under. She was hurt for a while but she eventually decided to forgive him. You know why? Because she was pregnant with Catherine and she didn't want to let that one mistake of his tear our family apart. We were already so poor. She didn't want to lose my father and go through the process of separation and a divorce."
I glanced up and found Jasmine watching me with a sombre expression. "It's been twenty one years. She still resents him for it. She still asks him a million questions every time he steps out of the house or comes home a little later than usual. She checks his phone every time he leaves a room without it. She accuses him of being unfaithful if she catches him so much as looking at another woman. I don't believe my father has ever made that mistake again but she has never let him forget it. That he was once a cheater..."
I swallowed hard and shook my head at her. "My father isn't a bad person, Jasmine. He cares about his family. He's never abandoned us. And my mother isn't wrong for not being able to trust him. They think I'm not aware but I've watched them for years. He's still doing penance for a twenty one year old screw-up. Sometimes I think it would've been better if he hadn't told her. They would've been happier."
Jasmine nodded at me. "That's why you left without groveling at her feet. That's why you didn't bother to explain your actions to her. Or to Cole." She sighed. "But not everyone is the same, Jasper. Maybe-"
"She specifically told Cole she doesn't want to be with me. Or speak to me. Or look at my face," I said again in a firm tone. "I am not going to destroy their newfound peace and force them to accept me, then spend every single day for the rest of my life trying to prove I can be trusted. I refuse to live like that."
She was quiet for a long minute as she studied my expression, pursing her lips and frowning at me.
I gave her a questioning look. "What?"
Eventually, she smiled. "Nothing. I was just imagining what you'd be like in bed after three months of abstinence."
Laughter escaped my mouth again at her blatant statement but then I sobered up when we continued looking at each other.
"We probably shouldn't," she said slowly.
"I want to fuck," I admitted unashamedly.
The trauma of losing my partners and almost having another stroke was fading. I'd been depressed and missing them for so long that I hadn't bothered to look at Jasmine in that way and she had let me mourn in peace while we both buried ourselves in work. But now, all I could see was that picture of them smiling without me. They didn't need me. They had a baby to look after. Maybe, they might even get married to complete that package.
I got to my feet and pulled Jasmine up, lifting her to wrap her legs around my hips. "The sex will help," I murmured, biting her neck.
"Of course it will," she said in a matter-of-fact voice and I grinned a little at her confident tone.
We were still good friends. The best, I would say. We weren't in love or desperate for each other. There was no tenderness in our love-making, no bonding. It was simply a release, a physical comfort. A hot indulgence when life seemed as though it sucked. I reached her room and Jasmine let out a surprised sound when I threw her on the bed and told her to take off her clothes. She stared at me wide-eyed but aroused as she did my bidding.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard, I swear," I promised her in a rough tone as I whipped off my t-shirt. "Please do bear with me."
When I buried myself between her legs minutes later and ploughed into her, that perfect picture...the picture that had wrecked me...was the last thing on my mind.
****
Armaan
I opened my eyes that morning to find myself the victim of a serious hangover. Pinpricks in my eyeballs, dull, pounding headache, my stomach feeling a little unsettled and my mouth dry. I needed water. Or juice or something. An aspirin or two. But when I tried to get up, something, an unfamiliar weight, prevented me from doing so.
I glanced down and froze.
There was a girl.
No wait, scratch that.
There was more than one girl. I had glimpses of dark hair and brown skin tangled in silk, blue sheets. One of them was lying across my stomach, the other near my legs. And we were all naked.
Shit. What had I done? What the fuck had I done?
It became obvious a few more seconds later when all my other senses caught up with me and I realised my room smelled like sex.
My room in Amira.
"No," I croaked before clearing my throat. "No. No. No. No, this can't be happening," I said under my breath even as I shifted away from the girls and made myself get out of bed.
I almost had a heart attack, so acute was my shock. There was another one, sleeping naked on the plush rug near the foot of the bed. I tried not to panic, grabbing my discarded shirt and draping it over her. Clothes were strewn all across the room. I found my jeans amongst the scattered articles of maids' clothing. These girls worked at my house. God, not again.
There was a brief knock before the door opened and Alex poked his head into the room. He grinned when he saw me standing in the middle of all the chaos and said in an annoyingly cheery voice, "Hey, sunshine!"
I was shaking my head again as though I was in a dream and he walked inside and handed me a bottle of orange juice. "Alex, what the hell happened?" I asked in a hushed tone before drinking deeply from the bottle.
"What do you think happened, Qureshi? We got drunk and you invited those girls in with the pretense of needing to have your room cleaned up but ended up sleeping with all of them." His laughter had a hint of pride in it. "Just like old times, huh?"
I couldn't believe I had gotten drunk in my house. And after months of being sober. And I couldn't believe I had seduced the maids. Again.
"Fuck."
"Oh and Ammi is on her way upstairs now so you should probably take care of this," Alex informed me casually.
I stared at him aghast. "Alex, what the hell, man? You're telling me this now?" I clutched my hair between my fingers, feeling even more panicked. "Please, please, please, she can't see me like this. Help me. Go stall her," I urged, steering him tow
ards the door.
I had a distinct sense of déjà vu. This situation was so similar to my college days whenever I came home for holidays from Milan and did things I wasn't supposed to do.
My mother was going to kill me.
Alex chuckled and agreed to hold her off while I took care of the mess. Before he left, he winked at me and said, "It's good to have you back, brother."
When he was gone, I locked the door and scanned the scene in my room with an uncertain gaze. One of the girls had started to stir. I thumped my head back against the door and took a deep breath. Then another one.
Nine months of celibacy, of telling myself I was prepared to wait for my wife to come back, of vowing not to reciprocate her cheating tendencies and look where I had ended up.
Not one. But three girls.
I'd broken my vows to her just like that. My body had the marks and exhaustion that only came after a vigorous night of sex. My brow furrowed as I lifted my hand and looked soberly at the ring on my finger. The only symbol left of my marriage to a woman I now knew wasn't coming back to me. After all these months of torture and not one word from her, even to check up on me, I realised her coming back was not going to magically fix things between us anyway.
Not now. Not after all the lines we both had crossed that rendered a marriage broken and meaningless.
Jasper had transferred back all my money with a letter saying, 'I'm breaking the contract. Do whatever you want. I'm not going to be your pawn anymore. And neither is she.'
I wasn't going to do anything. I knew it was time. Time to let Jasper Wells know he was more than welcome to her.
She'd hurt me enough already. It was time to say goodbye.
****
Cole
I was dozing off on the couch at home when a wailing sound reached my ears. It startled me awake at once and I yelled, "Yes. I'm coming!"
Skye's laughter floated out of the bedroom. "It's okay. Go to sleep, baby. He's just hungry."
Blinking profusely and wiping the drool from the corner of my mouth, I made my way over to the bedroom sluggishly. The baby was home with us now and it had only been a few hours but I was already exhausted. Skye was lying on the bed, breastfeeding our son with a contented smile on her face. They looked perfect together. If Jasper was here, he would take a dozen pictures.
Once A Cheater Page 19
