Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Jules
A steady thump thump has me bolting upright in bed. I blink, getting my bearings. Light trickles through the gaps of the purple curtains and snakes along the soft grey walls. The bedside clock says nine am. I rub my face. I haven’t slept this late since br. Before Riley.
More banging. The front door. It’s probably Mick. I crawl out of bed, my head and stomach protesting at the movement, and crack open the bedroom door.
“Let me in, Claire.” Mick’s voice is quiet but firm. It’s the one he uses on Riley when she’s in a stubborn mood.
Claire’s tone is not so soft. “This is my house, Mick. I’ll let you in only if Jules agrees.”
There’s a bang as the front door slams shut. Wow! I didn’t know my bestie had it in her.
Claire tiptoes down the hallway, her eyebrow quirking up as she gives me a once-over. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah.” Glancing down at myself, I grimace. No wonder my skin is covered in goosebumps. Underwear and a camisole are all I’m wearing since there’s no way any of Claire’s night clothes would fit my giant arse.
“Mick’s here. ”
“I heard.”
“Do you want me to tell him to take a hike?”
I’d hoped to be showered and caffeinated before facing him, but I guess there’ll never be a good time for this conversation. “No. Let him in. Might as well get it over with. I’ll dress and be out shortly. Is Jake home?”
“No. He decided to stay at his parents’ with the kids.” Claire pivots and strides away. She’s a woman on a mission and enjoying this a little too much. Last year, she thought Jake was cheating on her, so she knows exactly how I feel. Luckily for her, it was a big misunderstanding. I’m not sure I’ll be as lucky.
I pull on my jeans and shirt. Fluff my hair. It’s a lost cause. But who cares? Not Mick.
Despite the heating, goosebumps still pepper my skin as I shuffle into the open-plan lounge room. Claire leans against the island bench, arms crossed, giving a very mama-bearish impersonation. Mick hovers near the kitchen table, hands in his pockets. His hair is mussed up, furrows etched across his forehead.
Claire straightens, letting me know she’s ready to support me all the way.
Mick rubs his beard. A part of me wants to soothe the bruise-like shadows beneath his eyes, but a vision of another woman cuddling up to him quickly cures me of that urge. “Can we talk?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“What you saw last night. It’s not what you think.”
I laugh, or more like cackle hysterically. Does he realise how cliché he sounds right now? I cross my arms and tap my foot. “Then please enlighten me?”
He glances at Claire. “Can we talk privately?”
“Nope,” I say before she responds. He can endure the humiliation of having a witness to his lying grovelling. “I’m going to tell Claire everything, anyway. ”
He gestures to the lounge. “Can we at least sit?”
I want to make him stand and suffer, but that would be childish, so I perch myself on the armchair while he sits on the three-seater. Claire watches on like a security guard. Her serious expression is adorable; I’m loving her newfound confidence since meeting Jake.
Mick wrings his hands out. “I was catching up with an old colleague.”
My heart rate kicks up a notch, and so does my eyebrow. “By old colleague, do you mean mistress?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Then why lie?”
His gaze lowers, and he picks at his trousers. “Melissa’s a widow, and she’s having problems with her teenage son’s behaviour.” He lifts his head. Tired brown eyes implore me to believe his story. “I did have to work late. But when she called yesterday, I could tell she was in a panic. I didn’t have the heart to say no, so I offered to meet up for a drink and talk. That’s all.”
I leap off the armchair and put some distance between us. Mick had no trouble telling me he couldn’t come home early to babysit so I could go out, and yet he jumped to do this woman’s bidding. Why?
I want to trust him, but my God, the woman was beautiful. So slim and tiny and with the cutest elfin face. Not frumpy like me. “She was all over you.”
He tilts his head, looking confused. “She wasn’t …”
I raise my finger and glare, daring him to continue if he’s foolish enough to think that’s a smart idea.
He rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe it didn’t look real good, but I’m telling the truth. She was grateful for the advice. That’s all.”
Grateful enough to sleep with him? I lower myself onto the lounge .
“Why go to you? She must have other friends with teenagers. Why didn’t she ask them for help?”
His gaze strays to Claire, but he’ll get no mercy from that quarter. “She’s worried her son might be involved with some dodgy friends. Being an ex-cop, she hoped I might have some insight.”
The Valium I took last night has taken the edge off my rage, but a video of the familiar way that woman touched him is on constant replay in my mind. And it’s accompanied by a pounding headache. I press my fingers to my temples to try and ease the pain. Erase the images.
More memories surface—the shock on the woman’s face, her hand reaching out to me. Now that alcohol no longer clouds my vision, I can see it wasn’t the reaction of a guilty party.
Mick approaches slowly, like he’s worried I’m a flight risk, and holds his right hand out. My rings are nestled in the palm. “I give you my word, Jules. There was nothing going on. I’ve never cheated on you. Ever. And I never would.”
Is it true? I want it to be true. As hard as things have been with us lately, I still love him. However, I’m no pushover, and I refuse to be humiliated the way my mother was. I cross my arms. “Words are easy, Mick.”
When I’ve caught him out on lies before, stupid ones, like him telling me he’ll be home early from the office when we both know he won’t, his left eye has always twitched. It remains steady now.
He slips his free hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Talk to Melissa.”
That’s unexpected. The pressure in my chest eases. Maybe I did jump to conclusions last night, courtesy of the wine and running into Taylor and that lecher date of hers. I close my eyes. Mick may not be a cheater, but he still lied.
There’s a rustle of clothing as Claire comes in close behind me, a hand on my back, letting me know she’s here. Her love gives me strength, and I open my eyes to see Mick regarding me with an intensity that would have me weak at the knees if the situation was different.
The ache at my temples intensifies, and my stomach gurgles. Whatever the truth, I’m not up to handling this now. “Please go.”
“Jules, just call her. I promise?—”
“I’m not up to dealing with you yet.” I snatch my phone off the kitchen bench. “Give me her number. I’ll ring later.”
“But—”
“No buts, Mick. If you’ve got nothing to hide, then there’s no reason I can’t talk to this woman on my own terms.”
He swallows and nods. Then pockets the rings and taps on his phone. Mine dings with an incoming message. “Jules, you have to believe me.”
A roar like a jet engine taking off fills my ears. “I don’t have to believe anything.” I jab my finger at the door. “Just go. If last night was some innocent get-together, you just didn’t bother to tell your wife about, then you have nothing to fear.”
Claire takes the initiative and bustles Mick out of the house. I open the message on my phone and stare at the ten digits. Mick seemed sincere, but there was something in the tone of his voice that tells me there’s more to this story.
I walk into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. Pop some paracetamol. Even if my husband wasn’t cheating, he still prioritised someone else over his family. And lied about it. That’s not okay. Not by a long shot.