Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
GEORGIE
Later, after leaving Beth’s house with the sleeping pills and key to Jonny’s house shoved in my bag, I collect Oscar from Marc, and Oscar and I spend an hour running around the living room playing dinosaurs and hunters, then TV and dinner and bath time and three stories.
When Oscar is asleep, I change into my new underwear set and cook dinner for me and Nate.
It’s the cute lilac lacy set I picked up last week.
It pinches a little at the waist, and the underwire digs in under my breasts, but I look good.
Especially since it’s all I’m wearing as I chop the vegetables for a stir fry.
After everything that’s happened, the last thing I feel is sexy, but live the life you want, right?
That’s the mantra I gave on my reel this evening as I got ready, hinting at a romantic evening planned with Nate. I didn’t give the specifics, just the sentiment and an artful flash of the new underwear. The reel has already had over a thousand views. I don’t even care that I’m cold.
This has to be something I can fix – my marriage. Because I can’t fix what’s happening with Keira. I can’t stop what we have to do tomorrow at 5.05 p.m., when Beth, Tasha and I are going to drive to the outskirts of town and kill a man we’ve never met.
I can’t change that.
If we go to the police, Keira will send everything to DS Sató – the recording, the evidence. And if they believe her over us, she will walk free – and she will come back to Magnolia Close and…
My chest tightens as I think of the photo of Oscar taken inside the gates of Magnolia Close.
She must’ve been hiding behind the bushes by Jonny’s house.
Keira doesn’t play by the rules. She killed Jonny.
She stabbed him with a knife and admitted it.
She’s a murderer. And the thought of her coming back to Magnolia Close, coming to my house, to Nate, Oscar—
No!
There’s only one way out. Tomorrow, we’re going to take it and it will all be over and we can finally move on with our lives. And before then, I’m going to fix things with Nate. All we need is a little fun, a little spark to nudge us back on track.
There’s a sound on the stairs, drawing me back to the kitchen and the vegetables sizzling in the wok. I send a silent prayer into the universe that it’s Nate and not Oscar I hear, and when my gaze draws to the doorway, there he is – my husband.
I give my best sultry smile, waiting for him to grin back and wolf whistle as his eyes roam up and down my body. But when I look at his face, his expression is blank. He stays in the doorway, leaning against the frame, hands in his pockets.
‘What are you doing?’ he asks. No amusement, no coy tone.
A part of me knows in that moment there will be no spark tonight. No fixing of anything, but I give it one more go. ‘What does it look like?’ I motion to my almost naked body. ‘I’m cooking in my underwear.’
‘Why?’ I try not to hear the exasperated tone of Nate’s voice. The one he uses when Oscar bounces around, being loud and silly and ignoring Nate’s requests to sit still.
My smile slips, but I keep my head high. I am Georgie Bell and I am magnificent. ‘Why do you think?’ I reply with a raised eyebrow. ‘I want us to reconnect. To be good again.’ And then I say the words I’ve been avoiding. ‘Because I’m scared that maybe our marriage is… not working.’
Nate watches me for a final second before crossing the kitchen without a word. I hold my breath, hoping he’ll scoop me into his arms and tell me I’m being ridiculous. Instead, he moves past me and, reaches into the fridge. Grabs a beer.
‘I’m too tired for this. You’re acting nuts, Georgie.’
I laugh, the sound too bright, reaching for my wine and taking a long sip for extra courage. ‘No more than usual.’
‘You were just talking to yourself,’ he replies.
‘When?’ I ask.
‘Just now. Something about getting in a car.’
I freeze.
Oh God. I’m so used to talking to myself when I’m alone. What else have I said without realising?
‘I’m just worried about us,’ I say, softening my voice. ‘I wanted to fix this.’
‘Well, this isn’t the way,’ he replies, not even bothering to look back as he turns and walks out of the kitchen. His tone just now was casual, like I was an inconvenience, but the humiliation feels like a burn.
The sting is already rising behind my eyes as I stare at the empty doorway, heart thudding. I feel ridiculous, standing here in lace underwear like some desperate housewife cliché, offering myself up to a man who won’t even meet my gaze.
I turn the oven off and follow him into the hall.
My skin prickles with a chill that has nothing to do with the temperature.
He’s already halfway up the stairs, retreating.
Always retreating. Back to his study, no doubt.
My fists clench at my sides. What is he doing up there that’s more important than this? Than me. Than saving our marriage.
‘You don’t get to walk away from me,’ I call after him, my voice a hissed whisper. I don’t want Oscar to wake up and hear us, but I can’t stop the heat of my anger and humiliation either.
He turns slowly, beer still in hand.
‘Why don’t you want me anymore?’ I ask, hating the way my voice cracks.
Nate’s expression shifts, and just for a second, he doesn’t look like the charming man I married. He looks like a cornered animal. Then his body sags, and he exhales slowly.
‘I’ve been trying to find a way to say this for a while,’ he says, and already the hurt is a deep welt in my chest. ‘But this isn’t working. I don’t think we can be fixed.’
He moves to go. Like it’s that easy to throw away ten years of marriage and the life I’ve built for us.
‘Hey,’ I call after him.
He pauses but doesn’t turn to face me.
‘Are you having an affair?’ I think of the way he acted around Keira yesterday at the school drop-off. The issues in our marriage started long before Keira arrived, but I can’t shake the feeling she’s connected. ‘With Keira?’ I push.
That makes him look back. A frown pinches his brow. ‘Who?’
‘You know who,’ I reply, my hands clenching at my sides.
He sighs. ‘No. I’m not having an affair with Keira.’
‘Then what happened between us?’ I force out the question. ‘You used to love me, Nate. You used to want me. Now you can’t wait to leave any room I’m in.’
I wait for an answer that doesn’t come. Instead, he just walks away, and somehow, that silence cuts deeper than anything he could’ve said.
I swallow the anger clawing its way up my body.
I want to yell after him, tell him I’m planning to kill someone for him.
For us. For this marriage he’s already halfway out of. For this life I’m far from done saving.
Everything can be fixed. And I will fix us, no matter what it takes.