She moves from sitting opposite to sitting beside me.
“Neen, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t say the things I do about Marcus. I’m your friend and I should be more supportive of your choices, but fuck babe, the bloke’s a complete prick and if he’s not up to scratch in the bedroom, then what’s the point? Why are you even trying to make it work?” She brushes my hair from my face and tucks it behind my ears.
“I don’t know. I just didn’t want to give up without one last try. I think I was hoping that things might change if I got pregnant. If we had a baby together, I thought it might bring us closer.”
She shakes her head. “And what if it doesn’t? What if things are just as bad? He’s a lawyer Neen, d’ya seriously think he’ll let you walk away with his kid?”
Shit, I hadn’t even thought about that. I let out a long breath and look up at the ceiling.
“What am I gonna do?” I turn to look at her again. “Do I just walk away?”
“Well,” she says, with a smile on her face, “instead of going away with him next weekend, you could come with me. Josh has given me VIP tickets to this year’s Triple M, event.”
“Shit, I forgot that was next weekend.”
We had attended this event a few times over the years but only when Shift weren’t playing. They had been absent since Josh’s firm had taken over the organisation of the event, so we’d gone VIP the last few years and had made a big donation. We were massive Carnage fans back in the day and had seen them live a few times. Conner had worshiped Marley Layton and always aspired to play and sing as well as he did. I suddenly wondered how he was doing. Whether the band would carry on without Jet? There had been all sorts of speculation in the press, but no official word from the band.
“Has Josh spoken to Conner, d’ya know? Did he say how he was doing?” I ask without thinking.
Sophie looks at me with a shit-eating grin spread right across her face.
“What?” I ask her, with a frown.
“See that… that right there. What you just said right then is the reason that you need to walk away.”
“Why? What did I say?”
“Babe, we’re sitting here discussing the demise of your eight-year marriage and whether it’s worth fighting for and you’ve just asked about Conner. Your head’s already moved on. Your heart just hasn’t caught up yet, but that’s because it’s a good heart and wants to do the right thing, but your head, your head is wise and has already packed its bags and moved the fuck on.”
She throws herself back on the sofa, wearing a self-satisfied smile.
On Friday, Marcus wins his case. He falls through the front door, blind drunk, at three in the morning, making so much noise that Duchess must think we have a burglar and she starts barking, waking me up. I go downstairs and find him sitting on the bottom step with his head in his hands.
“You okay?” I ask from the top of the stairs, looking down at him. He turns his head slowly and tries to focus on me.
“I’m sorry,” he says so quietly that I can hardly hear him.
“That’s okay. Congratulations.”
He shakes his head, still trying to focus on me. “No, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Nina.”
I move down the stairs toward him. The lamp on the hall table is on and I can see how glazed over his blue eyes look.
“You coming to bed?”
He closes his eyes for a long moment, then holds his hand out to me. I move further down the stairs and take it. He pulls me into his lap and kisses me with more passion than he’s ever shown in our entire marriage. My body responds instantly. My nipples harden and I moan into his mouth while my hands rake through his hair. He pulls away and looks down at me.
“I do love you, Nina.” I’ve waited so long to hear him say those words like he means them and I want so desperately for my belly to do back flips and my heart rate to increase. I want my heart and my insides to react the same way that my body does. But what my body wants is sex. It would react this way to anyone that kissed me the way he just did. What my heart and my soul want, need, is so much more.
“That’s good to hear,” is all I can manage to say. He tries to stand up while still holding on to me, but he’s too drunk. I slide to the floor and walk up behind him, worried in case he might fall backward. Not that I could do a lot if he did. He’s almost six feet tall and I’m only just five.
When we get to our room, he flops down onto the edge of the bed and I take his shoes and socks off for him. I pull his shirt over his head, then push him back so I can undo his suit trousers. I pull them down and over his hips. I go to reach for his boxers, but he grabs my wrist.