The Forbidden

I frown at the wood before me, my grip on the key becoming hard. I recognize that voice. I don’t want to recognize it, and for a fleeting moment I hope I’m hearing things, but as I slowly turn and look over my shoulder, my hopes die. My muscles tense, and the bracelet that Jack gave to me starts to burn around my wrist. I glimpse down, worried, checking that the sleeve of my trench coat’s concealing it.

“Hi, Stephanie,” I say, tugging my key from the lock, but not before I’ve got the door open so I can escape quickly once we’ve had our pleasantries. What the hell is she doing around here? In particular, outside my apartment? Panic begins to consume me as I slowly turn to face her, trying to clear my face of all guilt. She’s pristine as always, her lips blood red to match her long nails. Those fucking nails. I want to cut them off with a hacksaw.

“I’m parked just down the street,” she sings, pointing down the road. “Jack’s dry cleaners is out on the main road, and it’s a total bitch to park there.” She holds up a suit bag. “I knew it must be you.”

I give her a strained smile. “How are you?” I ask, my mind in chaos.

“Oh, fine. Just running a few errands. Jack needed this for some work thing he’s going to tonight.” She rolls her eyes, and I just smile, a rabbit caught in the headlights. “Got any plans?”

“Just drinks with some friends,” I blurt, breaking out in a sweat. Fuck, does she know it’s Colin’s launch night? I should have mentioned that I’m going. Why didn’t I mention that I’m going?

“Don’t get too drunk!” She laughs hysterically. “I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to let my hair down. Jack and I are out for a nice dinner and a few cocktails.”

“Sounds great. I hope you have a lovely evening.” I’m lying through the skin of my teeth, of course. I actually hope they have a blazing row and Stephanie realizes there’s a serious lack of love coming from Jack’s way. And she leaves him. Problem solved.

“Oh, we will.” She rearranges her bag on her shoulder. “Hey, we must do lunch sometime!” she sings. “How about next week?”

I smile tightly, alarmed. What the hell? “Sure,” I murmur, edging into my front hall. “That would be nice.”

“Great.” She makes off down the road, waving as she goes. “Lovely to see you, Annie!”

“You, too,” I call, then shut the door and fall back against it, utterly exhausted. Shit, I need a drink. She was so bloody happy, and the unreasonable part of my brain is asking if she and Jack are getting on all of a sudden. I can’t think that. I rush to the kitchen in search of the wine and pour as I dial Lizzy, needing to talk to a friend to take my mind off…things, even if that friend doesn’t have a clue what’s going on in my life. Distraction. “Hey.”

“Bonjour!” she answers. “Comment allez-vous?”

“Why are you talking French?”

“Because I had a French client in today, and ooh la la, is he something pleasant to look at.”

“Ooh, French, ah?” I sip wine as I make my way to the bathroom to run the bath.

“Hot as fuck.”

“Did you make your attraction known?”

“He’s married. Restricted zone.”

I swallow down my wine on a hard gulp, thanking the lord I’m not having this conversation with Lizzy face-to-face. I must be bright red and radiating guilt from every pore. I place my wine on the side of the bath and flip the taps on. “Damn shame.”

“Not for his wife.” She laughs, and I force myself to laugh, too. I swear, my phone is heating up with me. It’s burning my ear.

“Hey, have you seen your new man again?” I ask. Apparently their first date went well, and there have been two further dates since, though she’s being sketchy with the details.

“I’ll tell you about it tonight.”

“I might not make it tonight. I have the gallery opening, remember. Tell me now. You’ve not even shared his name.”

“Can’t you slip off early?”

“I don’t want to be rude, Lizzy.” I tip some bubbles into the tub, pushing the guilt away for lying to her. Lying. I’m getting way too good at it, and it’s not a quality that I’m proud of. “If I can, I’ll call you.”

“Okay,” she relents on a drawn-out sigh. “Have a good evening at your fancy gallery opening.”

“Will do,” I confirm, my guilt now being pushed aside by excitement. I get to spend some time with Jack after the gallery opening. I just have to keep myself together while we’re actually at the gallery. But as soon as we’re out of there, the gloves are off. As well as his clothes.

I hang up, toss my phone to the side, and start to strip down, frowning when I realize Lizzy avoided my question of a name again. I make a mental note to call her tomorrow and get one.

I lower into the water but I can’t get comfy. The hardness of the tub on my back when I recline annoys me. I shift and move, trying to find a comfortable position, wondering what gives. When one of the diamonds of my bracelet catches one of the spotlights above and sparkles brightly, I realize what’s wrong. I sigh, fondling the charms thoughtfully, shifting and wriggling in the tub. It’s no good. I have no Jack to lie on. Baths will never be the same again. I give up on my relaxing soak and take a shower instead.

*



I stand at the end of the driveway that leads up to Colin’s new gallery, staring up at my new creation, feeling an immense sense of pride. It’s just about perfect, and though it looks shiny new after the renovations, it doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb as was argued by the local authorities on numerous occasions.

I make my way up the drive armed with a bottle of bubbly and wander through the open door. The impressive entrance has spectacular art displayed at every turn.

“Annie!” Colin appears and seizes me as I laugh.

“Hi!” I let him squeeze me before handing him his champagne.

“You shouldn’t have.” He hauls me through to the huge extension at the rear. “Just look at it,” he marvels, gazing up toward the roof. “Isn’t it the most spectacular thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Wonderful,” I admit, absorbing it for a few moments before taking in the people dotted around in small crowds; some admiring the art, some the building, and some just chatting and sipping fizz. I don’t see Jack, but I spot Richard. He notices me and raises his glass.

“Here.” Colin swoops a flute off the tray of a passing waiter and places it in my hand. “Have a drink, mingle, and listen to everyone sing your praises.” He motions to the outside space through the bifold doors. “There’s a wealth of people waiting to meet the woman who designed the new home for my masterpieces.”

I actually blush a little, walking out into the minimal garden, where crowds of people are gathered drinking and chatting. But still no Jack. I see the glass cases that Jack put forward, three of them hanging proudly on the brick wall, housing three pieces of Colin’s extraordinary art. “Are you hungry?” Colin asks, indicating a huge table with a buffet laid out. “Help yourself if you’re peckish.”

“Thanks, Colin.” I forgo the food in favor of my champagne. “I’ll grab something soon.”

“As you wish.” Colin leads me over to a group of people standing around a tall table.