Conviction

Sophie sits forward on the edge of the sofa, her elbows resting on her knees, her fingers steepled in front of her lips. She hasn’t said a word as I told her what my brother had done and how unhappy I was in my marriage.

“At the end of the day Soph, I allowed this to happen. I paid Pearce back a couple of years ago, but I’ve remained married to Marcus because it’s safe. I don’t have to feel and I don’t have to worry about the risk of being hurt, because I know that what I feel for him is nothing like I felt for Conner. Marcus could never hurt me like Conner did, I don’t think anyone could.”

She moves back to the corner of the sofa and faces me, crossed legged.

“Do you know how fucking angry I am with you right now?”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Why are you angry with me?”

She gives a small laugh and shakes her head. “Why, Neen? Why the fuck d’ya think?” Her eyes are wide and look all over my face. “I just can’t believe you kept this from me. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you ask for my help? Apart from the fact that you married someone you didn’t really want to, you put our partnership, our business and ultimately, our friendship at risk. My mum and dad would’ve lent you the money or acted as guarantors for a bank loan.” She shakes her head and rakes her hand through her long blonde hair. “I love you. I love working with you, and I’m so fucking proud of what we’ve achieved, but fuck Neen, I’d give it all up in heartbeat to see you happily married and in love with a husband that you actually chose to be with, not someone you were blackmailed into marrying.”

I give a nervous laugh. “I wasn’t blackmailed into marrying him.”

She shakes her head some more, then looks up at the ceiling for effect before looking back at me. “No? Well, what would you call it then, Neen? Your brother threatened to pull his money out of your business, our business, if you don’t say yes to his boss’s marriage proposal. What is that, if it’s not fucking blackmail?”

Anger rises up from somewhere within me. I’m not sure if it’s because Sophie’s got it all wrong, or because I know that I have.

“It’s a marriage of convenience, Soph. It suits both of us.”

Tears run down her face as she continues to shake her head at me. “You can’t honestly believe that, babe? You’re such a beautiful person, Nina, inside and out. You deserve so much more than a marriage of convenience. So much more.”

I don’t know if it’s the wine we’ve consumed, the drama of the events that we’ve watched play out on the television today, or just two lifelong best friends being totally honest with each other, but we both cry.

“God, I need a cigarette,” Sophie states.

“No, you don’t,” I tell her. Sophie quit smoking three years ago. She’d gone from an occasional social smoker to a twenty-a-day girl, when her marriage started to fall apart.

Her marriage to a crazy Italian chef had been a disaster from day dot. They married just two weeks after meeting and three months later she caught him shagging one of the waitresses from his restaurant. Luckily my brother had represented her and she didn’t have to give up any of the business as part of the divorce settlement, despite him trying to lay claim to half. What she did give up though, was about twenty pounds in weight and in return gained an addiction to nicotine. It eventually took a client asking Soph to go and find a mint or some gum to chew, because she couldn’t bear the smell of tobacco breath in her face as Sophie cut her fringe, to convince her that she needed to quit the habit.

“No, you’re right. I need something stronger, like a joint. Have you got any weed in the house?”

I roll my eyes at her. “Soph, my husband has a law firm. Of course, I don’t keep weed in the house.”

“Well, that’s just another reason why you shouldn’t be with him.” She stands from the sofa on wobbly legs. “I’m gonna find another bottle of wine then. I’m staying here tonight, by the way. I’m far too drunk to drive.”