Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Jules
I stumble out of the pub and into Claire. Everything spins as the cooler air hits my skin.
She steadies me. “Jules, what’s wrong?” Her bright green eyes rove over me as if she’s checking to see if I have any injuries. But she won’t find anything; the wounds are on the inside.
The concern in her voice and the warmth in her expression threaten to unleash a tsunami of tears, but the anger burning in my gut keeps them at bay. “Mick,” I whisper.
“Has something happened to him?”
I shake my head. An accident would almost be preferable to what I just witnessed.
“I’m not in the mood for partying. Can we go back to your place?”
“Sure.” After being friends for so many years, Claire can always tell when I’m about to lose it. She waves at a car parked nearby. “Let’s find out if the guy who dropped me off is free to take us home.”
Luck is with me. As the Uber peels away from the kerb, Mick rushes out of the pub. Too late, cheater.
Claire leaves me to my thoughts as the car weaves its way through the Friday night traffic. When we arrive at her house, she drags me inside as if she’s worried I’ll run off in a panic. She heads straight for the kitchen and opens the fridge. “Wine?”
“God, yes. But none of that chardonnay crap you’ve taken a liking to.”
Claire’s hand flies to her heart. “You wound me, sister.” She pulls out a bottle of red from the cupboard. “Lucky for you, Jake prefers shiraz. I’ll also throw some sausage rolls into the oven since we missed dinner.”
Claire takes care of the food and then disappears into the bathroom. My fingers reach for the pills I’d tucked into my handbag in case I needed extra help to relax tonight. I must have had a sixth sense they’d be needed. I pop a Valium before Claire returns. Soon, I can sink into oblivion. Forget my fucked-up life for a few hours.
It’s not until we’re settled on the couch side by side, with glasses of wine in our hands and a bag of chips on the coffee table, that we address the massive dinosaur in the room.
“You want to talk about why you left the pub?”
“Nope.”
“Jules.”
I shove a handful of chips into my mouth and take my time chewing them, still struggling to believe the words I am about to say. “I caught Mick cheating on me.”
Claire bolts upright. “No way.”
I gulp my wine. Not since I found out I was pregnant and lost my job, have I felt so helpless. “He said he was working late tonight. Instead, he was at the bar, snuggling up to some woman.”
That shuts my bestie up. Her lips pucker, and she guzzles her chardonnay.
No matter how many times I replay the scene of Mick and the woman in my mind, I can’t come up with an explanation that doesn’t end in divorce .
After a long silence, Claire slides a hand over her sleek, blonde bob and says, “I can’t believe it.”
Me either, but it’s difficult to dismiss the evidence. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Our marriage has been on the rocks for months.”
“That doesn’t excuse him for cheating.”
Tears well up and I brush them away. “No.” I sip my wine, the full-bodied red wasted on my numb palette.
The oven dings and Claire bounces out of the chair, returning with a plate of steaming sausage rolls. She drowns one in tomato sauce and shoves it into her mouth. I gag at the smell of the warm meat and pastry and shove the food away.
A fresh wave of tears streams down my cheeks, and Claire hands me a wad of tissues. I ignore them and scrub my face with the sleeve of my jacket. There’s no point crying over a man, especially a cheating one.
“I need a job.” Something full-time to support myself because I can’t rely on Mick, and I don’t want to. I never wanted to. My mother found out the hard way what happens when you lean too much on your partner. It’s the main reason I went to university.
Claire sits straighter. “Then we’ll get you one.”
“If only it was that easy.”
“How do you know if you haven’t …” Claire’s voice tapers off when she sees my expression. “So, you’ve been looking for one?”
I hear the hurt beneath her words. We don’t have secrets between us. At least, we never used to.
“Yeah. I’ve applied for heaps of positions over the last twelve months, everything from tutor to lab assistant. They all say the same thing—I need more recent experience or qualifications.” I gulp my wine. “How am I supposed to get practical knowledge if they won’t give me a chance?”
Claire’s shoulders sag. “Why didn’t you tell me? ”
“I wanted to, but then you met Jake and had your own problems at work. I didn’t want to burden you.”
Claire stares at her hands for what seems like an eternity. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been a good friend.”
“Don’t be silly.” I thread our fingers together. “You’re entitled to have a rough patch. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
Claire rubs the indent where my rings used to be. The skin is lighter. Bare.
“Are you still taking your mum’s Valium?”
I yank my hands from hers. Where did that come from? This is another reason I didn’t tell Claire about the jobs. She knows me too well.
She must see the answer on my face. “Jules …” She extends her arms towards me. I bat her away.
“It’s not a problem.”
“You should only use meds like that with a doctor’s prescription and guidance.”
Bile pools at the back of my throat. That’s what I get for sculling quality wine. “My doctor won’t give me one.”
Claire gasps. “Then you definitely shouldn’t be taking them.”
“She didn’t say it would be harmful. She wants me to try counselling first.”
“Have you?”
I shake my head. “No.”
There’s no response from Claire. She just stares at me with shining green eyes full of compassion.
My mobile lights up. It’s the fourth text from Mick. I ignore it. Two seconds later, it rings. The man won’t take a hint. I cancel the call.
Claire’s phone rings.
“Don’t answer that.”
“It’s Jake, not Mick.” Claire’s cheeks glow like they do every single time she sees or hears her fiancé. I can’t handle the happy couple vibes right now, but I need to know how my daughter’s sleepover is going.
I snap my fingers at Claire to get her attention. “How’s Riley?”
She nods at whatever Jake is saying. “He says she and Oscar are curled up in front of The Lion King fast asleep.”
Tears prick at my eyes. “That’s good. Do you mind if I stay? I can’t face Mick tonight?”
“Of course.” She pushes off the couch. “Jake, I have to go …”
I scull the remains of my glass. “No. You guys chat. I’ll deal with my husband in the morning.” I tap out a message to Mick, telling him I’m at Claire’s and we’ll talk tomorrow, then turn the phone to silent.
The sheets on Claire’s spare bed are cool against my overheated skin. I lay on my back and stare at the ceiling.
Bad mistake.
The room spins, and my stomach lurches.
I roll into a foetal position, my hands tucked near my face. My ring finger feels naked. I feel naked. What happened to us? We were so happy, so in love. I truly thought it would be forever.