CHAPTER 17
To say I was busy was an understatement.
Our debut performance at the Royal Opera House was due in slightly over two weeks.
Everyone felt the nerves.
Right now my heart rate steadily increased as I pressed the doorbell of Matt’s home, yes, I no longer viewed the stately Kensington property as my home.
The ongoing duration of our separation had shifted the scales from my eyes.
Matt didn’t want me.
A long moment of fighting the bile in my throat passed before I heard the door open.
“Mrs Bradley,” George’s surprised greeting was quickly followed by a frost-tipped, “If you’re looking for Mr Bradley, he’s unavailable at the moment.”
I looked over my shoulder and gave Matt’s car a pointed stare, he was obviously home, and it was Sunday morning.
“Don’t worry, George,” I sent him a half-hearted smile.
“I’m not here to see Matt. I wanted to return these. It’s my jewellery and I don’t want it.”
The bag I held out was large and filled with boxes of jewellery.
Every single piece of bling he had ever bought me was inside, and it was a lot.
Keeping the expensive pieces didn’t sit right with me and knowing I was returning a small fortune of gemstones made me feel better.
George took the bag from my outstretched hand, nodding quickly.
“Oh and these,” I fiddled with the bunch of keys I held, struggling to get the ones for this house and the ones in Surrey off.
George stood in the doorway, patiently waiting.
“How are you?” I asked, polite yet cool.
Whatever Matt had told George about our situation I was certain it would not shine a favourable light upon me.
“Fine, thank you.” George replied.
There was a small pause before he asked in a soft tone.
“And yourself? Are you eating properly, Mrs Bradley? You sometimes forget to eat.”
My eyes flooded with tears at his concern.
Blinking fast I finally managed to separate the house keys.
“I’m fine, George. Busy.” I met his gaze for a second before averting my eyes.
“Um, I was wondering-”
“George? Who’s at the door?” Came from inside.
My stomach fell out, replaced by the expected ball of fear and the urge to hurl.
Matt was in the hallway.
I stepped backwards, exchanging an almost terrified look with George.
“Have you seen my memory box?” I whispered, handing over the keys and taking another step down.
I needed to get the hell out of here.
“It wasn’t delivered with the rest of my stuff.”
George shook his grey-haired head then stiffened.
We both heard the approaching footsteps.
I took another backward step.
Would Matt call the cops?
“George?” Matt’s imposing form came into view and his features hardened into granite when he spotted me.
“What are you doing here, Madison?”
“Mrs Bradley was returning her house keys, sir,” George replied smoothly, stepping sideways to partially block me from Matt’s icy gaze.
“And some jewellery.”
Matt ignored George and moved past him, standing belligerently in the wide doorway.
“I don’t want the jewellery. Sell it, give it away, I don’t care. I want you gone from here.” He narrowed his striking grey eyes at me, the disgust in them clear to see.
“Now.”
George immediately held out the bag, gesturing for me to take it.
I shook my head and took another step down.
Matt looked exquisite in t-shirt and jeans.
He had also picked up a slight tan, the past week had been sunny.
Damn.
He looked good.
“I just need to know if you’ve seen my memory box. I think it was in the shelves above the clos-”
“All your belongings were delivered to you.” Matt spat out.
“Well I didn’t get it, Matthew.” I replied with the same amount of vehemence.
If he wanted to be an ass, fine.
I could be one also.
“Then it was probably lost in transit.” he said.
That was a cruel thing to say, and the thing I feared the most.
Even George winced at the small wounded sound that escaped my lips.
“Could you please check?” I swallowed my pride and asked as politely as possible.
“ Nothing that belongs to you is on my property,” Matt reiterated.
“Now leave.”
“Please, Matt,” Okay, I wasn’t above begging where it concerned my memory box.
“If you could just check. It’s-” I inhaled deeply.
“It’s important to me.”
“It’s not here,” he replied.
“Well where is it then?” I couldn’t hide my anxiousness.
That box held my dearest memories, the only other remaining physical link to my deceased parents besides my aunt.
God.
It couldn’t be lost.
“I have no idea, Madison, like I said, perhaps it was lost during delivery.”
I blinked fast, hands visibly shaking as I processed the upsetting news neither one of us had my box.
For a second, a split second, there was a glimpse of softness on Matt’s face; but it was gone before I could be certain.
“Ok,” I whispered to myself.
“Ok. It’ll be ok.”
Matt’s eyes lowered to my hands and I glanced down too as I stopped scratching my pinkie.
The glint of my rings filled me with regret.
Roughly I tugged at them, pulled until they both came off.
“Here,” My voice shook.
“I won’t be needing these anymore.”
“Why would I want them?” Matt asked.
“Whatever significance they had is gone.”
I snuck a peek at his left hand.
It was bare.
Raising my head I levelled him with a searching stare, hoping there was still a part of the man I loved fiercely reflected from his gaze.
My hope died a quick death as his features remained etched in unyielding coldness.
Shaking my head, I went back up the few steps and gave the rings to George.
Poor George.
The undeniable fact he lingered on the front doorstep instead of giving Matt and me privacy was a testament to his understanding of the depths of Matt’s anger.
“Sell it, give it away,” I tossed Matt’s words back at him.
“I don’t care.” And honestly, in that moment those words were true for me.
I shook my head again as I descended the steps, pausing once to look back at Matt.
“Do you remember that day in the pub?”
His lips tightened.
“I was right about you,” I said.
“You’re a bad person, Matthew. You had all my trust without showing me the same favour, I gave you almost every bit of me; yet you still refuse to see the truth, to show some level of faith in me . You prefer to think the worst of me, instead of seeing this whole debacle for what it truly is. God. How can someone as intelligent as you are be so bloody stupid?”
Then I walked to my SUV, got in and drove away without a backward glance.
The missing weight of my rings felt strange.
We were still married but it was obvious Matt believed our short marriage to be over.
The past few weeks I had tried my best to assess the situation from his point of view.
Of course I would have been livid if someone had brought me evidence of his alleged infidelity, but I would have at least allowed him the opportunity to defend himself.
Matt hadn’t really afforded me the same courtesy.
He had his proof, and that was all he cared about.
He had done what he usually did: exactly what he damned well wanted without serious consideration for anyone else.
I had always likened being with him to being caught up in a whirlwind.
Now the wind that had swept me up and away was gone and I had been left out at sea; alone, confused, and hurting.
Swirling sucked big time.
Hell, men in general sucked…