Chapter 82
82
SOPHIE
T hree days later, Sophie was packing Gavin’s extensive vinyl record collection in preparation for the move to their new home when there was a sharp rap on the door. Before she could go see who it was, Conor let himself in.
He looked grim and was holding several folded-up newspapers in his hands.
“Have you seen the papers?” he asked, without offering a hello.
“Um, no,” she said. “But it looks like you have.”
“I’m guessing you know that Gavin’s in London with Jackson?”
“Yeah. He finally got around to calling to let me know.” She sighed. “He told me he needed space. Guess you tracking him down the other night didn’t go well?”
“You could say that.”
Gavin had railed against her “selling him out” to Conor when he called, furious that she had told his friend where to find him. Of course, it was all her fault. And he used it to drive a deeper wedge between them. Whereas once he had needed her so desperately to help heal his wounds, he now seemed to enjoy telling her how she only made things worse for him. She was baffled by the change in the dynamic that had always worked for them. But at the same time, she stubbornly held to the belief that if she kept hanging on, Gavin would tire of this reckless behavior and then they could work on things together.
“Has no one contacted you about this?” Conor held up the papers.
Sophie sighed. Gavin’s phone call had been followed by Henri’s, letting her know that Lanc?me had passed on her due to her “controversial” personal image. It seemed that Gavin’s not-so-secret cocaine habit was reflecting on her. After that, she had silenced her cell phone and lost herself in the minutiae of packing.
“Just show it to me,” she said, holding out her hand for the papers.
Conor reluctantly passed them to her and watched as she took in each of the three cover stories. They varied little from one another, all focusing on a photo of Gavin receiving a lap dance from a stripper. The redheaded woman had her g-stringed pelvis pressed to his and her very large bare breasts were clear even though her nipples had been censored by black bars. What was also clear was that Gavin was enjoying himself as he held her to him, his hands firmly cupping her ass. His face was animated, with raised eyebrows and a rakish smile.
The headlines all screamed the same kind of gleeful but tawdry accusation: “Gavin Caught Red-headed!” One of the papers claimed to have an interview with the stripper, who would detail her night with Gavin, including how he rated as a lover.
Sophie was detached as she took all this in. Her husband had indeed been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. It was distasteful and disrespectful. But it didn’t really mean anything more than that.
“So, he went to a strip club. But there’s nothing more to it,” she said, handing the papers back to Conor.
“You don’t know that, honey,” he said gently.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Gavin doesn’t cheat on me,” she said. “And when did you start believing tabloids anyway? You know they’re nothing but trash.”
He looked at her for a moment before saying, “They weren’t wrong about you and me.”
“There is no you and me,” she replied flatly.
“Yeah, you’re right. That was all nothing, wasn’t it?”
His anger fueled her own. “Why are you even mad? You’re getting married. You don’t want me.”
“You don’t know the first thing about me, do you?”
She turned away instead of answering him. She could have said that she could see quite clearly that he was marrying Colette out of some twisted attempt to do what he thought was the “right” thing. In his mind that meant doing whatever it took to stop being in love with her. It wouldn’t work. She knew that, and she suspected he did too. But she didn’t have the energy to spar with him.
“Forget it,” he said. “I was trying to help, really. I thought you might want someone to talk to. But let’s forget that. Just do me a favor?”
She looked back at him, her eyes hard. “What?”
“Make sure he uses a condom with you. Wouldn’t want to catch anything from your husband.”
“Don’t say that. You’re just being cruel now.”
“I’m being a friend and you know it.”
“What about being his friend?” she asked. “If he knew you were doing this, he’d?—”
“Would you stop being so goddamn blind to all this?” he asked, incredulous.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Act like you’ve got some self-respect and leave!”
Sophie considered him for a moment and then she said the one thing she knew would push him away for good. “You’re just mad because this isn’t making me run into your arms.”
The look of hurt on his face was undeniable. But it soon turned to anger. “You know what? I don’t need this shite. Fuck off and don’t come to me with your sad stories anymore.”
Sophie returned his stare, silent, until he realized there was nothing more to say. He threw the papers on the floor, turned, and left her home.
When she was sure he was gone, she scooped up the papers, methodically spread them out on the carpeted floor, and devoured every word. When she read a quote from the stripper, Sammy, saying that her affair with Gavin was meant to be because he had a gold tattoo of the letter ‘S,’ she knew Gavin had betrayed her.
Conor telling her so hadn’t been enough. It was too awful to believe, let alone hear from someone who knew exactly how much it would hurt.
But now she had no choice. And as she sat alone in the half-packed house, she realized she had no one left to hold on to.