His eyes open. “What? Awww fuck.” His hands go to his head.
I pull myself off the bed and stomp out to the kitchen. I'll give him water and some loving. Dickhead. His sexperting skills won't work with me this morning. I might be as horny as, but I haven't forgotten that he came home smothered in lipstick and with some lanky blonde bint in tow last night, and I'm really not likely to, not for a while, the image is burned into my brain. Despite his brothers jumping to his defence, I want to hear from him who she was and exactly what he was doing with her. I wish I could be one hundred percent sure that he is totally innocent, but I can’t.
I make myself a coffee and go back into the bedroom to collect my phone. He doesn't, or can't open his eyes. I know it's wrong but I pick up his phone along with mine. I head back out and go and sit on the sofa, pulling the throw over me, it's grey, wet and windy outside and really quite dark. I turn on both the phones and as they come back to life I realise why it's looking so dark. It’s already past four O’clock. Shit, we've slept a bloody long time. Living your life in a soap opera is obviously very tiring.
I check my missed calls and messages. Jo, Sam and Stella have all called and left messages. Mainly concerned with how Gabe is pulling up today. Yeah thanks girls. I'm doing great too!!!
I sit and look at Gabe’s phone for a couple of minutes. Then decide to go for it, I know it's wrong, I know it's highly likely that I will find out things that I really don't want to know. But I look regardless. There are lots of missed calls from his brothers, sister, and sisters in law, me and then a couple from late last night. There’s just a number, no name, at least she was a complete random, not someone whose number he has stored. I listen to the voicemails:
“Fuck you Gabe. Fuck you!”
Followed by... “I won't fucking forget this you fucking prick!”
“That's your lot. Don't you ever talk to me again, you bastard.”
Okay... Nothing too incriminating.
Now let’s read the texts.
Gabe, are you really sure you want to send me home? There's still so much more I want to do to you ;) Alyssa x
Okay, not so good. So that was Alyssa, an ex, he walked out on me and hooked up with an ex, he hasn’t got her number stored, he must know it, off by heart. I feel sick, now I have to know.
Gabe pick up your phone. I can sneak back over if you want. Remember, you owe me an orgasm
I feel hot. But I’m cold, my mouth is dry, my heart pounding so hard I can hear my blood rushing through my ears. I know this is going to hurt, I just know. I read the last one. Sent at two am this morning:
That’s the last fucking blow job you will ever get from me you BASTARD!!!'
I throw his phone down on the sofa like its burning me. No, Gabe. No, what did you do?
CHAPTER 3
She gave him a blow job. He probably won't even remember but that's not really the point is it? I sit still for a couple of minutes and try and think clearly. My brain is trying to ignore the panic unfurling in my stomach and clawing at my chest. I stare at the phone, as if it’s going to come up with the answers to all the questions I may or may not want answered. I try to process all that has happened.
We argued, he went out and left me here on my own just a day after I was assaulted by my estranged husband. He left me here and went out and got drunk and hooked up with an old girlfriend and she gave him a blow job. He then brought her back here and would have probably let her do a whole lot more to him, if he hadn't had the welcoming party from hell waiting for him.