Commitment

by K. M. Golland

  ‘Good. They’re growing so fast. Too fast. William will be taller than me in no time.’

  She pushed her glasses along the bridge of her nose. ‘Takes after his dad then?’

  ‘Sure does. Speaking of his dad, is Dean in?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Would you like me to buzz him?’ She picked up her phone, ready to inform him of my arrival.

  I held up my hand. ‘No, no. He doesn’t know I’m coming. I want to make it a surprise.’

  ‘Ahhh … I see. Go straight through, then. You know where he is.’

  ‘Thanks, Val. It was lovely to see you again.’

  ‘You too.’ She stood up and opened the door behind her reception counter, granting me access to the room just outside Dean’s office. It was where I expected to see Hillary, Dean’s bubbly, hardworking secretary, but she wasn’t at her desk. Hmm … maybe she’s at lunch already?

  Shrugging, excitement increased my pace as I walked to his door and, just as I was about to knock and turn the handle, it opened instead.

  ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you,’ Hillary said, wrapping her arms around Dean.

  He rubbed her back, soothingly, and replied, ‘The feeling’s mutual, Hill,’ at the exact same moment his eyes widened with shock and landed on mine.

  CHAPTER

  20

  DEAN

  As I comforted Hill and rubbed her back, I was seething. Screaming bloody murder. Bullshit she tripped down her front steps and hurt her hip. I didn’t buy that for second. Her inability to look me in the eye when she’d fed me her lie-ridden story over lunch was proof enough, but for her sake I’d pretended to accept what she’d said. She was fragile and close to breaking and opening up to me, and I wasn’t about to push her that extra little bit. Instead, I’d be there for her when she did break, and I would rip her scumbag boyfriend a new one at the same time.

  Looking up as I opened my office door, my eyes landed on my wife. I blinked, surprised, thinking for a second that I’d imagined her standing there — she hadn’t made an appearance at my work for years. A long flowery dress covered her body, and her hair was tucked neatly behind her ears. My eyes weren’t playing tricks on me; she was definitely there looking as beautiful as the day I’d met her, except she took a step back, tilted her head and returned my smile in an odd way.

  Realisation hit me instantly, and I quickly shrugged out of Hill’s grip, smiling awkwardly. ‘Tash! What are you doing here?’

  Hillary dropped her arms and spun to face Tash. ‘Oh, h … hi, Tash. It’s so good to see you. It’s been so long. Wow! You look amazing. I love your hair. It really suits you,’ she babbled, fidgeting and smiling just as awkwardly as I had. ‘Right, I’ll just get back to work and leave you guys to it. Is there anything you need?’

  Tash didn’t say anything at first, she just reached into her shopping bag and pulled out what looked like a salad roll wrapped in plastic. ‘I made you lunch, Hillary. I hope you like roast chicken.’

  Hillary glanced my way, and my stomach theoretically plummeted to the ground. ‘Oh … thanks, but I just ate—’

  ‘You made us lunch, love?’ I asked, interrupting Hill’s unnecessary honesty. ‘Looks delicious.’

  ‘Yeah, I did. I made myself something too.’ Tash lifted her hand, offering the roll to Hillary for a second time.

  ‘Thank you,’ Hill said, sheepishly accepting it. ‘That was very kind of you.’

  ‘That’s me. Super kind.’ She gave Hill the thumbs-up, but I knew my wife … her thumbs-up was nothing but sarcastic.

  The atmosphere surrounding the three of us turned thick with get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here. There was absolutely no reason for it, so I stepped backwards into my office and gestured for Tash to follow me inside. ‘Come on in, love. I’m starving,’ I lied — Hill and I had just eaten.

  Tash brushed past me, plonked her shopping bag on my desk with a thud, and sniffed the air. ‘You sure ’bout that? Smells like you’ve already had something to eat.’

  ‘It wasn’t much,’ I said softly, stepping up behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist. ‘This is a nice surprise.’

  She scoffed, although I wasn’t sure she meant for me to hear it, because she turned in my arms and placed a quick kiss on my cheek before attempting to free herself from my hold. No fucking way. I knew why she was pissed and it wasn’t warranted.

  Tightening my grip around her, I pressed our bodies together and kissed her lips, hard. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ I mumbled against her mouth.

  ‘Really?’ she mumbled back.

  My lips trailed to her cheek, to the bridge of her nose and then to her forehead. ‘Of course.’

  She nodded but there was sadness in her eyes and I hated it.

  ‘Don’t give me that look, Tash. It’s just Hill.’

  ‘I know who your secretary is.’

  I narrowed my eyes at her smartarse retort. ‘It was just a hug. Her boyfriend is physically hurting her. I’m trying to get her to open up and admit it. You know she’s like a baby sister to me.’

  Tash’s eyes widened. ‘What? What do you mean he’s physically hurting her? And if she hasn’t admitted it, how do you even know that’s what he’s doing? And who is he by the way?’

  I let go of her and walked around my desk to take a seat. Tash did the same and started emptying the bag she’d bought with her.

  ‘It’s a long story,’ I sighed.

  She handed me a roll. ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘Okay, I noticed a few weeks ago that she was acting … I don’t know, different.’

  ‘What do you mean, different?’ Tash dug deeper into the bag and pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re here and that you’ve done …’ I gestured to the food and drink, ‘all of this.’

  She shrugged, blushed, and poked her hair behind her ears, and if she wasn’t the most adorable thing with her new short haircut, I didn’t know what was. Don’t get me wrong, I missed her long hair and wanted it back, but for now I didn’t mind the change. It really did suit her.

  Reaching into the bag yet again, she pulled out a packet of chocolate bullets and tossed them at me. ‘Those are for fixing my Netflix and rangehood. Oh, and the laundry door.’ She winked. ‘Also, you can stop eating mine now.’

  I caught the packet and laughed. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Yes you do. Now, back to Hillary. How was she different?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Quiet. Distant. Preoccupied.’

  ‘Okay, but that’s not exactly cause for concern.’ Tash poured a glass of wine, took a sip, and then passed it to me.

  ‘Thanks, love. Look, I know it’s no real cause for concern, but I just have a gut feeling something isn’t right. She’s not normally so withdrawn and sulky.’

  ‘Still … I don’t think that’s sufficient evidence,’ she mumbled.

  ‘Okay, well, on Friday, when she was in the loo and I was standing by her desk, her phone vibrated with a message. I couldn’t help it and read what I could see.’

  ‘You what?’ she exclaimed, a piece of chicken leaving her mouth and landing on a client’s ASIC report. ‘Shit! Sorry.’ She leaned forward, picked it up and put it back in her mouth then wiped the report clean with her sleeve. ‘I hope that’s not important.’

  It kinda was, but I dismissed her concern. ‘Nah, don’t worry about it. Anyway, I didn’t pick up Hill’s phone and go through it. I just read what popped up on the screen. It was a message from her new boyfriend, Glen, and he was apologising for saying something really fucking horrible to her.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘I don’t know exactly. Something about her arse. Whatever it was, it was enough to make her cry, which was why she went to the loo.’

  ‘That’s horrible, but where does the “physically hurt her” bit come into play?’

  ‘I took her to lunch that day, when I realised how upset she was. I thought maybe
she’d confide in me.’

  ‘Did she?’

  ‘Yeah, a little. She mentioned that this Glen guy was never happy. Never liked anything she did for him. She basically said, not in so many words, that he had a temper and snapped at her a lot.’ I gulped my wine. ‘He’s not good news. I just know it.’

  ‘From what you’ve said, I agree. But that doesn’t mean he’s physically hurting her.’

  ‘Did you notice her limping before?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. Why? What happened?’

  ‘Said she fell down her front steps and hurt her hip.’ I shook my head adamantly. ‘I’m not buying it.’

  ‘Why not? Falling down steps is a thing, you know?’

  I raised my eyebrow at her. ‘She couldn’t look me in the eye when she was dishing out the story of how it happened, love.’

  ‘Maybe she was just embarrassed, or felt like a clumsy idiot?’

  ‘Naaaah.’ I shoved my roll into my mouth and took a big bite. ‘E’s ying.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She’s lying,’ I repeated, swallowing my mouthful. ‘I know she’s hiding something. I can just tell.’

  Eyeing me over the rim of her glass, Tash took a long sip of her wine. ‘Maybe she is, maybe she’s not. It’s none of your business, though.’

  ‘So, what … am I just supposed to sit back and let her get beaten up?’

  ‘No. That’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is you have no proof of what’s happening.’

  I leaned my chair back and crossed my leg, resting my foot on my knee. ‘Then I’ll get proof.’

  ‘How?’ she asked, pulling a bit of chicken out of her roll and dangling it above her mouth before dropping it in.

  ‘I’ll keep encouraging her to open up to me. Make her feel safe, all big brother-like.’

  ‘And then what … you’ll find where he lives and beat the crap out of him?’

  The idea had definitely crossed my mind. What I wouldn’t give to go a few rounds with the little fucker if he was, in fact, hurting Hill in any way.

  ‘Possibly, yes.’

  Tash stopped eating and pierced me with her eyes, a warning as such.

  ‘Okay. I’d protect her. I’d report him to the police, help her get rid of him … that sort of thing.’

  Silence settled in the space between us until she finished her roll, rubbed her hands together and picked up her wine. ‘You’re a good man, oh husband of mine. It’s one of the things I love most about you, but …’ She tipped her glass and emptied it down her throat. ‘Just be careful, okay? There could be a whole lot more at stake than you realise.’

  * * *

  I was buzzing after Tash left the office. Things between us were great. Yeah, they were up and down, as usual, but still great. More than great. Our marriage of late seemed to be a whole lot of new and old all rolled into one. Familiar but different. Unexpected but comfortable. And I wondered if it was all due to Bryce’s advice, and if so, where the fuck he had been for the past ten years of my life.

  Ever since chatting to him and Derek at Thomas’s birthday party, I’d viewed my role of husband in the bedroom differently. I’d accepted that, yes, I was and should be the pants-wearer, and that Tash, although sexy, beautiful and breathtaking in my eyes, needed me to convince her of the same thing. She needed my actions to mirror my thoughts. And, in the bedroom, my thoughts were filthy, sweet, a hell of a lot dirty, and nothing but love.

  For the past few days, I’d spent more time in the study … studying porn. Tash thought I was putting in overtime for work, which I guess was debatable. I had been ‘working’, just not the type of work she thought, instead the type that involved obtaining pointers for various bedroom techniques and sex talk. She seemed to like the dirty talk, which was great. But I’d been tame and planned to turn it up a notch. I also planned to stick my dick in her arse. Baby steps, Dean. Baby steps.

  Hearing the speaker of my phone buzz, I pressed the button to hear Hillary.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Rob wishes to see you. Should I tell him you’re dead?’

  She giggled, and I laughed. ‘Yeah, that would be good.’

  ‘I heard that, dipshit,’ he said through the speaker.

  ‘Good, then you’ll know I’m a ghost and will haunt you if you bother me.’

  ‘Can you be Demi Moore and I be Patrick Swayze, and can we make pottery together?’

  I hung up on him, and seconds later my door opened and he strolled on in like he owned the joint. ‘So what’s it gonna be … a bowl or a vase?’ he asked, positioning his hands in front of himself and moving them up and down as if to make a long pottery vase … or stroking an invisible dick that he wished he had.

  ‘Neither. What do you want? I’m fucking swamped.’

  Rob placed his hands on my desk and leaned in. ‘You got another one of those staple remover things?’

  I laughed at him. ‘You’ve got to be shittin’ me, right?’

  He shook his semi-bald head, then rubbed it. ‘Nup. I’m losin’ them quicker than my hair. And I’m losin’ that real fast.’

  ‘No, I haven’t got another one. And if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you.’

  He pushed off my desk. ‘Why are you such a soft cock?’

  ‘I’m not,’ I said, boasting a calculated smile.

  Rob’s eyes lit up, and he took a seat in front of my desk. ‘Did you get a bit last night?’

  I rocked my chair back and threaded my fingers behind my head. ‘A bit? I’ve been gettin’ a lot lately.’

  ‘Lucky bastard. How much is a lot? I bet your wife reads those sex books.’

  I rocked forward, curious. ‘What sex books?’

  ‘You know, those whips and chains books that all the women are reading nowadays.’ He turned my nameplate round the wrong way. ‘Cheryl’s sister had a ton of them. She tried to get Cheryl to read them but my prude of an ex-wife wouldn’t.’

  Tash read books all the time, but they weren’t these ‘sex books’ that Rob was talking about. The one she was reading the other night in bed looked like it was about swimming or maybe even drowning. Definitely not sex.

  I shook my head and turned my nameplate round the right way. ‘My wife reads, but she doesn’t read sex books. Not that it matters if she does or doesn’t. Sex books don’t get you sex.’

  ‘Yes, they do. And how do you know she doesn’t read them?’

  ‘Because I do.’

  ‘Whatever.’ He leaned over my desk and opened my drawer. ‘You sure you haven’t got a stapl— Oh, what do we have here?’ he asked, a shit-eating grin bursting from his smugly-arse face as he snatched the Sexyland bag I’d hidden. Oh fuck!

  I went to snatch it back but he was too fast. ‘Rob, for fuck’s sake. Hand it over.’

  ‘No can do.’ He sat back and wrenched it open, bellowing at the top of his voice, ‘Deano! You got one!’ The obnoxious fucker laughed, reached in and pulled out the pussy in a can I’d bought that morning on my way to work. ‘Mate, you won’t be sorry. They work like a charm.’ He turned the can around. ‘Nice! You got the Vulcan Vagina. Good choice.’ He tossed it from one hand to the other, as if it were a tennis ball. ‘But hang on a minute … if you’re gettin’ a lot at home, why do you need this, huh?’

  ‘Will you put that back?’ I hissed. ‘Hillary could walk in at any moment.’ I tried to snatch it back yet again. ‘And for your information, I am gettin’ a lot. I wasn’t planning on buying that stupid thing. I was looking for something else. I only paused for a split second to look at it when the saleswoman came up to me then wouldn’t leave me alone, so I panicked and bought it together with some cinnamon spray that was on the counter. Apparently, if you breathe it on them, women will want to fuck you.’

  ‘Really? Where’s that?’ He dug deep into the bag and pulled out the small spray bottle. ‘That’s the shit,’ he said, shaking it and unscrewing the lid before opening his mouth, poking out his tongue and spraying twice. How he managed not to spray him
self in the eye, I’d never know.

  ‘What’s it taste like?’ I asked, chuckling at the squinty-eyed fuck.

  ‘Cinnamon. It’s not ba—’

  ‘Sorry to interrupt, Dean, but here’s the fax from the Lutcliffs,’ Hillary announced as she burst through my door, head down, reading the paperwork in her hands.

  Both Rob and I jumped like frogs on a trampoline, Rob fumbling with the pussy can and cinnamon spray. The pussy can slipped from his hands and rolled along the floor, and we watched, as if in slow motion, as the picture of the big-breasted woman with spread legs appeared every rotation of the can, until it stopped … at Hillary’s feet.

  She looked down.

  We looked up.

  She looked up.

  We looked down.

  ‘Dean, you’re a sick man,’ Rob declared. The balding, fat shithead then stood up and placed the cinnamon spray and empty bag on my desk before hauling arse to my door. ‘Sorry, Hillary,’ he murmured, pausing as he passed her. ‘If you need to report him to HR, I’ll be your witness.’

  She didn’t answer him, instead bending down and picking up the can. Rob opened the door and burst into silent hysterics behind Hill’s back, and all I could do was sit there and watch as he taunted me with bird-flipping and fake tear-wiping.

  ‘Goodbye, Rob,’ I said through gritted teeth.

  He closed the door, all the while murmuring, ‘Sick, sick man.’

  ‘Hill, I’m so sor—’

  ‘Vulcan Vagina, huh?’ she asked, half smiling. ‘Bad choice. You should’ve gone for the Fleshlight. You can do so much more with them.’ She placed the fax on my desk and sat the can on top of it.

  And then she left the room.

  CHAPTER

  21

  TASH

  Sometimes I wondered if we saw things differently because of our own insecurities, or if what was before our eyes was definitive. Like Hillary; she was definitive … there, in the flesh, all giggly and huggy and ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Dean’. But through my newly formed, uncontrollable and unwanted green vision, I wondered if her giggle was flirtatious, her hugging audacious and her declaration suggestive. I wasn’t sure. My memories of her had never been like that, and yet there she was, all touchy-feely with my husband. And for how long? Ugh! Donuts.