CHAPTER EIGHT #2
Chelsea’s look of venom doesn’t go unnoticed, but with perfect timing, Connie appears with the washing basket tucked under her arm. Stopping in her tracks, her eyes lock with Chelsea’s. “Oh… hello, Mrs Graham.”
“Hi, Connie.” Her voice is so quiet. Is she embarrassed about her two nights of partying? So she fucking should be.
Thankfully, Connie looks between us and gauges the situation perfectly.
“Hey, Ozzie, why don’t we play for a little while?”
She puts down the basket and holds out her hand, but Ozzie points to the TV.
“But we’re watching Woody.” His puppy dog eyes have a secret power, and Connie is as guilty as anyone for falling for them.
“How about we watch Toy Story in my room? We have the Disney channel in there too,” Connie says.
“Can Mom come with us?” Oz pleads in Connie’s direction.
“Umm,” Chelsea interrupts, her nose twitching. “Not now, Oz. You watch with Connie, okay?”
“Okay.” Ozzie jumps away from Chelsea and into Connie’s arms, although the pout on his lips and the wave he gives his mum, breaks my heart.
The door closes quietly behind them while Chelsea takes a seat opposite me.
She looks good today. I haven’t seen this oversized baby blue trouser suit and cream silk top before, which I notice only because of the bra she isn’t wearing.
Did she go on a shopping spree during her time away, or is there someone else who stores her clothes for her?
She stares at the floor and I wonder what she’s thinking. Could she be concocting bollocks in that head of hers?
She perches on the edge of the chair. Her legs are slightly parted, her elbows are on her knees, and her hands clasp together in front. She doesn’t speak. If she is expecting me to start this conversation, she can think again. I’m not the one who walked out.
“I think we can both agree this isn’t working.” Finally, she’s talking sense, but I take my time giving her a reply. She can sweat for a second or two.
Stretching out, I yawn out my words. “Is this the reason you’re here? To state the fucking obvious?”
Her wide eyes dart to mine. “Wow. You really are an evil bastard.”
I keep my tone deliberately measured. “You’ve already told me once how much you hate me. Why bother being nice?”
She glares into my eyes and rolls her lips together.
“What is it, Chelsea? You got yourself involved with some other sucker?”
“No,” she replies a little too quickly. “Why would you say that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re wearing different clothes to the ones you left in.”
She opens her mouth to speak, but obviously, she can’t think of a defence. I huff out a sarcastic laugh at her pathetic attempt and shake my head. “So, why did you come back? I told you not to.”
“You didn’t mean it.”
“We both know that’s not true. Who is he?” I growl.
“You arsehole. I was out with the girls.”
“Really? So which girls were you out with for two nights straight?” She can’t look me in the eye as I sit forward, clasping my hands. “Come on. Was it Brandy? Jo? Marie?”
She chews on her bottom lip but doesn’t reply.
“Exactly. You’re full of shit.”
“I’m not—”
My hand slaps on the coffee table, making her jump. “Don’t lie to me. I fucking hate liars.” My anger surprises me, and I realise straight away that I shouldn’t have done that. This is the negative effect she has on me. I take deep breaths and start again.
“What kind of woman would want to stay away from her kid for that long without checking in? Not one that I want to be married to.”
I reach for the remote, turn off the TV, and get up from my seat.
It’s early, and if I didn’t have a son who needed me, that bottle of bourbon in the drinks cabinet would be open.
Instead, I go into the kitchen and make coffee.
Unexpectedly, she follows me, but I keep my back to her the whole time.
I clatter about the kitchen, setting up the coffee machine and getting the milk from the fridge, but I don’t offer her one.
Taking in the landscaped view of Central Park from my kitchen window, I ask her straight. “Did you think about your kid at all while you were having a good time?”
A faint laugh puffs from her lips. “Why are you making such a big deal out of this, Tommy? He’s only five and I doubt he noticed I wasn’t around.”
I hold the spoon too tight in my hands and my nails dig into my skin. “Oh, you’d be surprised what Oz notices.”
“Well, I’m here now.”
I turn around to face her. “Yeah. And what was the first thing Ozzie did when you walked through the door?”
Her guilty eyes look away. Does she really need proof of how much our boy needs her?
I lean against the kitchen counter, crossing my legs at the ankles while I drink my coffee. My temper is still simmering, but the kitchen is close to Connie’s room, and by staying here, I won’t raise my voice.
“Any self-respecting mum would be here for their kid and put them first, not swan off without a care in the fucking world.”
She looks at the floor, still unable to reply with anything valid. This is getting us nowhere.
“So, what are your plans now?”
She glances from the open-plan kitchen towards Connie’s bedroom and lowers her voice. Is it possible she also doesn’t want Oz to hear?
“The thing is—” She gazes out the window. I wonder if it’s easier than looking into my eyes. “I… I don’t love you anymore.”
Was that statement said to shock me? It doesn’t. “Did you ever love me?”
Her response is immediate as she faces me head on. “Did you ever love me?”
I run my fingers through my shaggy hair and think about how to tell her the truth tactfully when my phone blows up.
First, there’s a text from our management office, then a WhatsApp message from the same number, and finally, Dani calls me.
This all happens simultaneously, which is how I know there’s a problem.
The band is now officially resting, and there should be at least a few weeks before I hear her voice again.
“I’d better get this. Don’t move.” Leaving the kitchen, I answer the call with a low tone. “Hey, Dani.”
“We need a band meeting.”
“Why? What’s the emergency?”
“We’ve got a crisis. A big one.”
This is the worst fucking timing. I glance around the corner to check if Chelsea is listening, but she’s staring into space.
I pace the hallway. “What’s going on, Dani?”
“Your buddy, Brett. That’s what.”
The last time I saw him, he didn’t feel like a buddy. I can only imagine what shit he’s got himself into now. “What about him?”
“I’ve spent the last hour talking to his solicitor. He’s threatening to leave the band.”