No Matter What

by Michelle Betham

  “I wasn’t in the mood, Layla. And I’m still not in the mood, not to mention the fact I’ve got to be somewhere in an hour.”

  She stepped forward, kicking the door shut behind her, untying her coat and letting it drop to the floor. She was wearing nothing but high heels and a smile and Kenny knew there was only one way this was going to end. He was only human after all. He may not want a relationship with her but that was a killer body she had there and he’d be an idiot to ignore it.

  “Oh, I think an hour’s plenty of time, don’t you?” Layla smiled, moving closer to him. “Something tells me this won’t take long at all.”

  Something told Kenny she was right.

  ***

  India looked at the text from Kenny, punched out a quick reply and flipped her ‘phone shut. She didn’t feel much like seeing him today. They still needed to talk, they really needed to talk, but he could wait. He’d have to.

  She turned her attention back to some proofs from a recent photo shoot she had to look through. She needed something to do, something to keep her occupied until Michael got up.

  “Here she is, kiddo. We’ve found mommy.”

  India turned round as Michael walked into the room carrying Ethan. She stood up and went over to them, smiling as Ethan held his arms out towards her and Michael handed him over.

  “I’m surprised you couldn’t sleep, honey,” Michael said, picking up a handful of the photographs India had been looking through. “You must have been as tired as the rest of us. Yesterday was one hell of a day.” He looked back down at the proofs, holding one up. “And this one here, it’s stunning.”

  “It’s good lighting.” She kissed Ethan’s cheek.

  Michael smiled. “Emma’s gonna take him out in a bit, if that’s ok?”

  “That’s fine.” It was perfect really, as far as India was concerned. Having the house to themselves would certainly make things easier. Her heart was already beating ten to the dozen. She just wanted to get this over with.

  “And I’ve got to pop out myself for a bit, too,” Michael went on.

  India felt her heart sink. She had no filming today, they had the house to themselves and they needed to talk, but this wasn’t working out quite how she’d planned.

  She lay Ethan down on the sofa, picking up one of his cuddly toys from the floor and handing it to him. He immediately started chewing its ear and she couldn’t help smiling at him, stroking his dark hair.

  “How long are you going to be?”

  If she didn’t do this today it was going to drive her crazy. Did Michael have any idea? Was he trying to avoid some kind of confrontation? Or was she just being paranoid?

  Michael came over to her, slipping his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “I’ll be a couple of hours, tops. I promise. Then we can spend the rest of the day together, ok? Just me and you.”

  She smiled at him, closing her eyes as he kissed her gently, holding onto him, not really wanting to let him go.

  “Come on then, kiddo,” Michael said, breaking away from India and crouching down to pick up Ethan. “Let’s get your bag packed and you ready for your day out with Emma. Time to give mommy a bit of peace.”

  But peace was the last thing India wanted, or needed. Michael looked at her. “I’d better get going too, baby. But I won’t be long. Ok?”

  She folded her arms, smiling at their son as he clung onto his cuddly toy, gurgling away at it happily.

  “Ok … I’ll see you in a bit ... Michael?”

  He turned round and smiled at her. That smile she loved. “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  “Hey, I love you too, honey.”

  She watched them leave, knowing she’d been left with no choice but to hang around for a little bit longer. She could have done with Charley being here. At a time like this she really needed her but the timing was totally off. She’d had a text from Charley only this morning saying how fantastic their cruise ship was and what a wonderful time her and Vince were having. She really didn’t need to know about the crap going on in India’s life.

  So, although she didn’t feel much like it – her energy levels were more than a little low – she went down to the gym they’d had built in the basement and took her frustration out on the running machine and the punch bag before coming back up into the house to grab a drink and check her messages.

  She’d never felt so restless. Usually she could always find something to do; it wasn’t as if she didn’t have a boat load of stuff she should be getting on with, but her heart just wasn’t in it. She couldn’t focus on anything, couldn’t concentrate for more than five minutes. Then she remembered the disc Layla had given her last night, the one she’d thrown into a drawer in Michael’s desk. She’d said it was something she should look at but India had forgotten all about it, until now. So she went back to Michael’s study, sitting down behind his huge desk and opening the drawer she’d thrown the disc in, rifling around amongst the papers to try and retrieve it, and that’s when she noticed something. A large manila envelope with something sticking out the top of it. It looked like a photograph. It looked like a paparazzi style photograph. Was that a photograph of her?

  She took the DVD Layla had given her out of the drawer and put it to one side, then she picked up the manila envelope and pulled the photograph out, looking at it. It was a photograph of her – and Kenny. Taken in Vegas, obviously by a camera with an exceptional zoom lens. She was confused. She looked inside the envelope and pulled out a handful of yet more photo’s, all of her and Kenny, all of them taken in Las Vegas when they’d been filming ‘The Wedding Convention’, all slightly grainy, and some of them had obviously been taken from quite a distance away as in a few of them you could only just tell that it was her and Kenny. But, what was Michael doing with them? Why did he have them here? And that’s when it suddenly hit her. These weren’t paparazzi photographs. And she couldn’t even bring herself to think it but she knew – deep down she knew the only other kind of person who could have taken these photographs.

  She continued flicking through the pile of pictures, bile rising in her throat as each second passed, stopping suddenly as she came to one that made her feel physically sick, shocking her more than any of the others had – because this was a picture of her and Kenny, on that night. The night they’d been together. It was a picture of them having sex, taken from outside the villa, through the French windows, and it wasn’t the best quality, but it was obvious what was going on. She put a hand over her mouth. It was all she could do not to throw up. These were pictures only a private detective could have taken. A very good and highly paid private detective.

  She shook her head, unable to believe what she was thinking but the truth was staring her in the face. Not her husband, no. He couldn’t have done this. But then, wouldn’t that explain how he knew about her and Kenny? It was all so clear now. Had he really had them followed? Could he really have done that? And why? Why did he feel the need to do that? She didn’t know what to think anymore. She didn’t know what to feel, what to do. This was crazy. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be.

  She threw the photographs onto the desk and picked up the disc Layla had given her, walking over to the TV and DVD player in the corner of the room, switching them on and slipping the disc into the player, watching as the screen flickered into action, a picture emerging in front of her that made her want to close her eyes and try and believe that none of this was happening. But it was. In the space of less than five minutes her world had come crashing down around her as she watched her husband having sex with Layla Boyd, and her hand flew to her mouth again to stop herself from being sick.

  She wanted to switch it off, she didn’t want to watch what was happening here but she couldn’t look away. She couldn’t, even though she wanted to. She couldn’t take her eyes off the screen. Until she heard the study door open …

  CHAPTER 50

  “Turn it off.” Michael grabbed the remote control from her hand and switched off the
TV but India couldn’t move. It was as if she’d been glued to the spot and all of this was just happening around her. “India, look at me. Please, baby, look at me.”

  She looked at the now black TV screen before turning to face her husband. Michael Walsh. Famous actor. Award-winning director. Multi-millionaire movie producer. Father of her child. The man she’d thought she knew so well. Now she felt as if she didn’t really know him at all.

  “Where did you get that, India? Where did that come from?” But he was asking a question he already knew the answer to. Layla Boyd. He should have known she’d been there last night for a reason. He should have kept a closer eye on her. He should have thrown her out when he’d had the chance.

  “Does it matter where it came from?” India whispered, still unable to move.

  Michael reached out to her, taking her hand but she pulled it away.

  “Baby, listen to me, I can ...”

  “What? You can explain? Is that what you were going to say?”

  “India ...”

  She finally found the strength to move, going over to his desk and picking up the photographs she’d found earlier, throwing them at him. He caught a handful, the others falling to the floor.

  “What are those, Michael?”

  He looked at them, knowing there was no way out of this now. He should have got rid of these just like he should have got rid of Layla.

  “Did you have me followed? Michael ... did you have me followed?”

  There really was no way out of this now. What else could he tell her but the truth?

  “Yes ... yes, I did, but you have to listen to me, India ...”

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t have to do anything.”

  He threw the photographs he was holding onto the floor with the rest of them and walked over to her, but she backed away from him.

  “I love you, India. Everything I did, all of it, it was only because I love you.”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “You love me? You had me followed because you love me? You have someone followed because you don’t trust them, not because you love them.”

  “You don’t understand ...”

  “No. I’m not sure I do.” She was desperately trying not to cry because it was the last thing she wanted to do, but this had been a shock. This had been one hell of a shock, but she wanted to try and stay strong. She had to try and stay strong. She didn’t want to fall apart in front of him.

  She turned around and picked up the DNA results that were still lying on the desk. “And this. You had this done without talking to me? How could you do that?”

  “I had to be sure, India. I had to be sure that Ethan was mine, because, admit it, honey, you had doubts yourself, didn’t you?”

  She felt the tears start to fall and she couldn’t stop them. Just like she couldn’t stop her world from falling apart right there in front of her.

  “Is that why you had me followed? Because you thought I might be sleeping with Kenny?”

  “It’s happened before, hasn’t it?”

  What did he mean? Jesus, had he had her followed before this?

  “Did you think I didn’t know what happened over in England all those years ago, India? Did you think I didn’t know he came running straight over there the second you asked him to? Because I knew, honey. I knew.”

  She felt sick to her stomach. All this time he’d time he’d known about her and

  Kenny – all this time and yet he’d carried on as if nothing had happened. She was finding it increasingly difficult to get her head around any of it. It was like some surreal nightmare.

  “So, why didn’t you say anything? If you knew all of this?”

  “Because I loved you so much. I loved you to the point where it killed me to even think about you not being with me, no matter what you did.”

  “But you never trusted me, Michael. Did you?”

  “You never gave me reason to.”

  She stared up at the ceiling for a second, blinking hard to try and stop herself from crying. “So … so, why stay with me?” She was surprising herself with the level of calm she was managing to keep, despite the tears streaming down her face.

  “Didn’t you hear me? I love you ... nothing you can do will ever stop that, it’s always going to be there.”

  She looked at him again, staring him straight in the eyes. Eyes she didn’t recognise anymore. “But you had me followed ... while you were sleeping with Layla Boyd, Jesus! Layla fucking Boyd! What the hell planet were you on, Michael?”

  “It was once. Just once. I was drunk, I was missing you, I needed something to take my mind off you being there with Kenny and, she was available ...”

  India laughed again, turning away from him, looking out of the window instead at the sun beating down on the pool outside.

  “She’s always available, Michael. To anyone who can further her sorry career.” She swung round to face him again. “Where did you do it, huh? Where did you fuck her? Was it here? In our home? Did you sleep with her in our bed?”

  “No ... India, come on, it wasn’t like that. We’d had a few drinks, she was hanging around on set after we’d finished filming ... Jesus, I was stupid. I’d made her leave my trailer once and I had every intention of going home but, she came back ... I shouldn’t have let her in but I did, and ...”

  “And you thought you might as well sleep with her seeing as you were so sure I was sleeping with Kenny. Christ, what a mess!”

  Michael didn’t want this to be happening, he wanted anything but this to be happening but he could feel himself slowly losing control. She couldn’t stand there and blame him for this mess when she’d caused most of it herself; he wasn’t going to take that. Not anymore.

  “No, hang on there, honey. This is a mess created because you couldn’t keep yourself away from Kenny fucking Ross so don’t stand there and tell me one stupid and regrettable night with Layla has made this any worse than it already is.”

  “It hurt, Michael. It hurt to see you touching her like that, it hurt like hell.”

  “And you don’t think I hurt when I saw those pictures of you with him? You don’t think I felt my heart being ripped apart every time you were anywhere near him? Because I’ll tell you something, India, I’ve never felt a pain like it. Never. And I put up with it for far too long.”

  “So you had me followed? And did that make you feel better? Huh? Did it? Knowing that every move I made when I was out of your sight was being reported back to you?”

  Her eyes went down to the pile of photographs strewn over the floor and she crouched down to pick up one in particular, looking at it closely.

  “This wasn’t taken in Vegas.” She stood back up and looked at Michael. “Was it? This was taken in Malibu. That’s our home in Malibu. You had us followed there, too? Jesus, Michael ...”

  “You can’t leave him alone, India. I needed to know what was going on, I needed to know if you were with him … it drove me crazy!”

  “You are crazy, Michael! Why didn’t you just talk to me? Why didn’t you just confront me?”

  “Because you’d have lied. Wouldn’t you? You’d have lied because you can’t stay away. You didn’t even know who Ethan’s father was, for Christ’s’ sake!”

  “So you thought you’d just sort that one out all by yourself?”

  “And what were you gonna do about it, sweetheart? Just leave it alone and hope I never found out?” His voice was raised now. “You’ve taken me for a fucking idiot for far too long, India, but that’s it, no more!”

  “You had me followed, Michael. Don’t you get it? You had me followed and that’s low. That’s really low.”

  “So’s sleeping with your best friend behind your husband’s back and you don’t get to call the shots anymore, honey, that’s over now. It’s over. Those days are well and truly fucking gone.”

  She stared at him. There was a look in his eyes she’d never seen before and it scared her. This wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with. This w
asn’t him.

  “There’s no trust, Michael.” She felt almost defeated, her voice quiet but still calm, despite the growing feeling of unease surrounding her. She couldn’t see a way out of this; she couldn’t see a way to make it better. Too much had gone on and a way back seemed impossible right now. “You’ve proved that, and without trust where do we go?” The tears were still streaming down her face but she didn’t care anymore. She just didn’t care.

  Michael pushed a hand through his hair and leaned back against the wall, sighing. He’d tried to be calm, he’d tried to believe it hadn’t got to him as much as it had but the look on her face scared him now. She looked drained and tired and, despite everything she’d done and all that had gone on, he still loved her with every inch of his soul. Like he’d said before, that was never going to go away. She was in his head and his heart forever but whether they should still be together was something only they could decide.

  “We have a baby, India. We have Ethan.”

  Just the mention of her baby’s name made the tears start to fall again and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, turning away from him as she shook her head. Their baby was the most beautiful, precious thing in the world to her but he wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough to make her think this could work anymore. But then, did she really have the strength to let Michael go? Everything just hurt too much right now for her to even think straight.

  “Too many lines have been crossed, Michael. Too many lies have been told ... I’ve got to get out of here. I can’t do this now.”

  She pushed past him, running out of the room and up the stairs to their bedroom. She needed to get away; she had to get out of there, out of this house and away from him. She needed time to get her head sorted, time to think about everything, and that couldn’t happen here.

  She grabbed an overnight bag from the walk-in closet and started throwing things into it, not even hearing him follow her into the room.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, even though it was blindingly obvious what was happening.