Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Jules
A hint of lemon clings to the air inside the police lunchroom. It’s not unpleasant, but there’s an astringent quality that has me swallowing to try to erase the taste. A red-headed officer lounges at the table, a chocolate labrador by his side.
They both sit to attention. The man nods at me, then runs his gaze over Emily. “Looking good.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “You too, Sarge.”
“That’s Sergeant to you, Constable.” I flinch at the quiet menace in Greg’s voice. “Why are you loitering in here with your mutt?”
The man’s face turns brighter than my brightest red after a workout. “Just getting a coffee, sir.” He races out of the room like the devil is on his tail, the dog lumbering behind him.
Greg laughs. The poor kid.
“Was that necessary?”
“Nope. But it was fun. I’m reminding him to watch his step. If Jake caught him bringing his fleabag into the lunchroom, he’d have his balls.”
It still seems harsh, but I collapse onto a chair. I have my own problems. My legs are limp as wet noodles since I smashed my car. And the altercation with Taylor didn’t help.
“Coffee?” asks Emily.
“I’d love one. Thanks.”
“What the hell are you doing back here dressed like that?” Jake’s annoyed voice booms from the doorway.
Greg pumps a bicep. “Making you feel inadequate?”
“As if.” Jake’s gaze zeroes in on me. There’s a flicker in his eyes that says my presence is an unwelcome surprise. What’s his problem? He tugs on his collar and glances behind him. “What are you doing here, Jules?”
Emily hands me a cup of coffee. “She had an accident.”
Jake’s expression softens. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine. But my car’s not.”
“It happened at the gym,” says Greg. “Jules’ phone broke, so I rang Mick, but there was no answer.”
He gives me a conspiratorial smile. I appreciate him leaving out the incident with Taylor.
Jake rakes his hands through his hair. “We’ve been tied up.” He looks at me again, that same odd expression of … panic.
“I’m going to call an Uber for Melissa and Ashley now.” Mick walks through the door, a pretty brunette at his side. The same one I saw him with at the pub months ago.
My heart beats even though the blood has stopped flowing. It’s a loud thump, thump, thump in my chest. An echo in my head. A barren wasteland in my soul. Nothing exists except my husband, the woman, a teenage boy and that acidic hint of lemon souring the air.
Mick stops midstride, his gaze dropping to the stunning creature next to him. Red creeps up his neck. “Jules.”
My name, spoken so softly it’s barely audible, drifts across the few metres that separate us. Although it might as well be a galaxy. Mick clears his throat, his hand rubbing the base. “What are you doing here? ”
I’d convinced myself I was delusional. And now the flesh and blood proof stands before me. Disappointment curls around my windpipe like a hungry python. Tightening. Choking the airways. Narrowing my vision to the liar in front of me. I swallow to wet my dry throat, but the words refuse to form.
Mick holds his hands out. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
Not what I’m thinking? He couldn’t hold a larger red flag if he tried. My gaze flicks to the woman. She’s porcelain doll pretty. Fragile. Not his type in every way. But the boy next to her … he has Mick’s eyes.
Strangely enough, I trust that he’s not cheating on me. These people are from his past. It all makes sense now, but it doesn’t diminish the sting of betrayal poisoning my heart. My soul. The very fabric of our marriage.
Melissa stretches an arm towards me. “I’m sorry we keep meeting like this. Mick’s been a big help with my son.”
Her sincerity bleeds through the red haze that blurs my vision, but I’m in no state to accept her hand. Good manners can go fuck themselves right now. Was Mick helping her when I begged him to call me? Is that why he didn’t reply?
A shot of adrenaline transforms my wobbly legs into steel pillars, and I slide my chair back and stand. “I’m glad my husband could be there for you because he’s missing in action when it comes to my family.”
Mick steps forward, then freezes as my gaze whips the flesh from his bones. “Please don’t cause a scene.”
My muscles tighten, even the tiny ones between my ribs, my toes, my fingers. “How long have we been married?” My fingernails cut into my palms as my hands curl into tight fists. He winces as if I’ve raked those same nails across his cheek. “Of course, I’m going to cause a scene.”
It’ll make the spat with Taylor look like a tea party.
“That’s enough.” Jake’s gruff voice pulls me up. “Melissa, Ashley, come with me.” He nods at Greg and Emily. “You two put some proper clothes on or get out of here.” He eyeballs me with a similar intensity to the day we met back when Claire was obsessing over him. “Let Mick explain.”
Melissa gives me a beseeching look as Jake ushers her and her son out of the room. In a different universe, I think we could be friends. Greg and Emily mumble their goodbyes, and my husband and I are alone, that bitter tang of lemon still tainting the air.
Mick gestures towards a chair. “Let’s sit.”
I fold my arms in front of my chest. “I’m good.”
He sighs. “Jules.”
“Don’t fucking Jules me. I’m not the bad guy here.”
He wipes his palms on his thighs. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”
“So what was stopping you from … I don’t know.” I fling my hands in the air for theatrical effect because what I really want is to throw my coffee mug across the room so I can hear it shatter. “Just telling me you have a son.”
Mick’s mouth drops open. “What?”
“I might be stupid, but I’m not blind. That boy is the spitting image of you.”
Mick works his jaw. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was chewing gum. He paces around the small space several times before stopping in front of me. “Ashley is Davo’s son, not mine. And Melissa is Davo’s widow.”
That brings my racing heart to a grinding halt. “The friend who died? The one I was completely unaware of until a couple of weeks ago?”
He hangs his head. “Yeah.”
I press my fingers to my temples. “This makes no sense. Why the secrecy?”
Mick crumples into a chair. “It’s not easy to explain. I’ve tried so hard to forget my time undercover. To continue with life as if it never existed. Then Melissa asked for my help with Ashley, and I couldn’t refuse. ”
“And you thought lying to me was the better option?”
He rubs at his throat and tugs at his tie. “I was going to tell you.”
Why is it people always say that when they’re caught out? “It’s been months since I saw you with her at the pub and yet you’ve said nothing.”
“I know.”
Mick’s sad puppy dog eyes might invoke sympathy in some women. Unfortunately for him, I don’t fit into that camp. I want to shake him. Scream at him. Why can’t he talk about his friend? And why did he think it was okay to help the widow without telling me? To prioritise her needs over mine.
I rub my temples. That headache from earlier is quickly shifting to migraine status. “I need someone to call an Uber for me.”
Mick tracks the movement. “Where’s your car?”
“I had a little accident.” I hold my hand up at his startled expression. “I’m fine. But the car and my phone aren’t.”
Three police officers stroll into the room. Their attention zeroes in on me and Mick like we’re unusual bugs under a microscope. The fatigue from earlier hits me with the force of two freight trains colliding. I can’t deal with any of this right now. Mick. The accident. “I’m going.”
He bolts out of the chair and grabs my arm. “I’ll take you home.”
One officer steps forward as if to intervene. I shrug my husband off. “I said I’ll catch an Uber. We’ll talk later.”
“Jules.”
I shake my head, ignoring the shards of pain. “Not now, Mick. I need some space.”
I stride out of the room, down the corridor and into the reception area. A constable calls an Uber for me, and then I wait outside feeling everything and nothing at the same time.
The last twelve months of our marriage haven’t been easy, but the one truth I held onto was that our vows meant something: that Mick loved and respected me. It seems they were only words because if he respected me, he wouldn’t have hidden his interactions with Melissa. His excuses about not wanting to remember what happened to Davo are bullshit. And I’ve had enough.