6. She didn’t say, “You make me weak.”
6
She didn’t say, “You make me weak.”
Eden
Stalker mode activated.
Bundling the chunky woollen blanket tighter, I sank into the sofa, leaving just enough space to prop up the essentials—my phone and the tub of ice cream I’d stolen from Andie’s freezer.
I snuck a guilty look over my shoulder. The living room was deserted. No rustling in the kitchen, either. Andie was nowhere to be seen.
I grinned.
It was time to devour every scrap of information the internet had to offer. The Worley and Stone website was my first stop, but it wouldn’t be my last. Scrolling down the ‘Our Talent’ page, I scrunched my nose. Who’d curated these mugshots? The black and white photos popping up one by one convinced me that being a lawyer was the most serious—and boring —job in the world.
You want a smile? Let’s add that to your bill.
I stifled a giggle under the blanket, but my grin dulled when Zach’s photo stared back at me. A serious scowl in black and white worked for him. The man certainly knew how to rock tall, dark, and brooding. What talents would the firm list for him? Real ones, like warm hugs, enthusiastic about eating pussy, and skilled at breaking hearts? I doubted it. I kept scrolling.
Bingo .
A woman. Blonde hair. I squinted. It was impossible to tell if her eyes were blue or hazel, but that was her. The homewrecker.
Michaela. I twisted the lid off the ice cream tub, dug in the spoon, and kept reading. Macintosh.
I snorted. What kind of name was Michaela Macintosh? It sounded like a pair of sensible shoes marketed to grandmothers for wearing on their weekly shopping trips. Was that what attracted Zach to her? She was the sensible shoes you could wear every day, and I was the designer stilettos that pinched your feet so much you only bothered with them on special nights out?
My phone was yanked from my hand.
I whipped around. “Hey!” An incriminating spoonful of chocolate ice cream hovered at my lips.
“I left you alone for two minutes,” Andie said. “What’s all this?” She waved a hand at the disgrace I’d created on her sofa.
I tipped my chin and smiled sweetly. “I’m wallowing in self-pity, thank you very much. I’m told it’s a rite of passage for betrayed women like me.”
“Told by who, exactly?”
“The caring folks of the internet.”
“And this?” Andie flipped around my phone. Michaela’s black and white mugshot glared at me. “You’re stalking his side piece? It won’t make you feel better to learn a single thing about her.”
“I plan to learn everything about her.” A bitter edge cut through my voice. I jabbed my finger into the back of my phone. “See her hair? Didn’t I tell you? Whoever did that balayage should be blacklisted!”
Sighing, Andie flopped on the sofa, manspreading like she always did with a lazy arm stretched over the backrest. “You, ah…” She slid an uneasy glance at me from the corner of her eye. “You wanna talk about, um, how you’re… feeling?” She grimaced.
Emotions had never been Andie’s thing. Lucky for her, tonight, I was more than happy to ignore the advice of every therapist I’d ever seen and bury mine.
“Nope.” I dug the spoon into the ice cream and wrenched out an even bigger scoop. “I want to stay angry. I’m going to make that man wish he was never born!” I stuffed the spoon in my mouth. Big mistake. With one eye screwed closed, I choked out, “What is this?”
“Vegan ice cream.”
I forced myself to swallow. Mud, with the hint of twig and the crunch of disappointment. “Boo, whatever this is”—I jiggled the tub—“it ain’t ice cream.” That didn’t stop me from digging out another spoonful and shovelling it into my mouth. The second bite went down just as rough.
“So, how long does the rite of passage last?” Andie asked.
“Um.” How the hell would I know? Before Zach, I’d been the one doing the dumping. Sydney wasn’t exactly short of new dicks to bounce around on if a man turned out to be a disappointment—and they always did. “Tonight? Maybe the weekend? I dunno. How long did it take you to get over the girl with the hair?”
Andie lifted a shoulder. “A few months.”
“A few months! Sorry, no.”
“Ed, you can’t rush this.”
I scoffed. Please. “When have I ever rushed anything?”
Andie scratched her chin, one brow slowly lifting.
Okay, maybe she had a point. Sometimes, I rushed into things blindly. When it came to the salon, I was a machine, planning and executing every detail to the last love heart I used to dot my i’s. But my personal life? That was a well-travelled road to chaos.
“Zach isn’t the only man out there,” I said, my voice pitching up, more defensive than strong.
“True, but that doesn’t mean you need to find his replacement straight away.”
“Can’t hurt.”
Andie chuckled. “You’ve got a lot to learn about relationships, Ed.”
“I think I’m officially retiring from relationships.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded. “Maybe I’ll take up a class or something. I heard they’re running some cooking classes in Surry Hills again—”
Whomp! Whomp!
The front door rattled under the power of the knocks pounding the old oak. I threw the blanket over my head and disappeared into the sofa.
“Gee.” Andie’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I wonder who that could be.”
Whomp! Whomp!
“Andie!” That was Zach, alright. “I know you’re up!”
I inched the wool down to glare at Andie. “He can’t see me like this.”
Andie slapped her hands on her knees before pushing up off the sofa. “Guess I’m getting rid of him, then.”
Her footsteps pounded away.
A snap—she’d flipped the lock. A creak—she’d opened the door.
“What do you want?” Andie growled.
“Eden.”
I lowered the blanket, scrambled down the sofa, and craned my neck to peek through the gap down the hallway. My heart stuttered. Zach looked wild. Had he run across the city? His chest heaved, and his hair flopped over his forehead. Sweat prickled on his brow. Fog clouded the bottom of his glasses. He usually only looked that unpolished—that undone —when he was, well, fucking .
“Eden’s not here,” Andie said.
Zach’s palm landed flat on the door to stop her from slamming it in his face. “Really?” His laugh was hollow. “Funny, those boxes sure look familiar.”
“You the box police now?”
“I kicked my toe on that box this morning. The label says ‘kitchen,’ but I know for a fact Eden stores clothes to donate to the women’s shelter in it.”
“Cool story. See ya.” She pushed her weight into the door, but Zach pushed back.
“Slam the door in my face if you want,” he said, “but I’m not leaving until I see Eden. I’ll keep knocking all night if that’s what it takes. Just try me.”
Andie threw a helpless glance back at me.
I held up my index finger. Girl code: I need a minute to make myself presentable .
Andie dipped her chin in a nod and turned back to the wild man. “Wait there,” she said. “Step one foot through that door, and I’ll introduce you to my fist before I call the cops. Got it?”
I didn’t hear Zach’s response.
I tossed the blanket, tumbled from the sofa, stripped off the ugly cardigan, and unbuttoned my blouse until just enough eat-your-heart-out cleavage peeked through. I upended my handbag and chased the lipstick rolling into the kitchen to swipe on a fresh coat. A quick scrunch of my hair, a spritz of gardenia-scented mist, and then I strutted down the hallway like it was a runway and my entire world hadn’t turned upside down.
My stomach fluttered to see relief weaken Zach’s knees. He wouldn’t get that same reaction from me.
“Oh, it’s you,” I said, slouching against the doorframe and folding my arms like his being there was no big deal. “What do you want?”
“Please come home.”
I snorted a laugh. Home? Where the hell was that? Certainly not where I’d grown up. Not where I’d lived with him, either. “No, but thanks for stopping by.” My fingers curled around the edge of the door, getting ready to slam it shut, but Zach’s shoulder butted into the wood to stop me.
“Talk to me, Denny Dee.”
He had no right to use that achingly low voice on me. He was trying to peel my armour off. The earnest look on his face, the step he took to crowd the doorway until I could only smell his cologne—it was too much. I needed to be stronger.
“I’m surprised you had time to stop by,” I said.
“Work’s full-on, but—”
“Work.” I scoffed. “Please. We both know what’s actually been keeping you so busy.” I smiled sweetly. “I believe her name is Michaela.”
A deep line creased between his brows. “Michaela?”
His innocent act was adorable, but he wasn’t fooling me. “I saw you with her. In your office. Tonight.”
He shook his head, still ten steps behind. “Wha—that’s—how?”
“I let the security guard have a little peek.”
“Pardon?”
“You heard me.” I ran my finger along the sharp placket of my blouse, making sure he saw the cleavage framed with delicate white lace. “A li’l peek.”
Zach’s nostrils flared, and laboured breaths made his chest jump. He glared at my buttons as if he was about to snap every last one back into place so no one could see what used to be his. He was seething with jealousy. I grinned. Petty revenge was a delight.
“My visit was supposed to be a surprise,” I said, “but it turns out the biggest surprise was for me. Who would’ve guessed my man was nothing but a cheating bastard?”
The accusation made Zach’s eyes blow wide. “I’ve never cheated on you. I wouldn’t even—that’s not—” He tugged a hand through his hair, only making the mop a bigger mess. “God, I’d never cheat on you.”
“You told her she could put her hands on you.”
His grimace was almost convincing. “I was distracted by some work. I didn’t realise Michaela was going to do, well, that . As soon as I did, I told her to get the hell out. I literally shoved her out the door. You saw that, right?”
I swallowed. No, I hadn’t seen that. I’d panicked. I’d run. But I wasn’t about to admit how weak he made me.
I hiked my chin. “And when she promised there’d be no crowds this time?”
“She asked me out for a drink a couple of nights ago. Some bar on the harbour. I can’t tell you which one because I didn’t care. I said no.” His lips curved. “I was on my way home. Nothing in the world is more important than seeing you.”
My shoulders sagged. My resolve withered under self-doubt. Had I made the worst mistake of my life? Maybe my old therapist had been right. My relationship with my father had primed me to think the worst of men— this man. I stared helplessly at Zach. I’d lost count of how many times I hadn’t felt like an essential part of his life, let alone the most important, but maybe I’d rushed into—
“Eden, whatever was going on between Michaela and me—”
I cut him off with a brutal laugh. Here we go. “Whatever was going on?” There was always more to the story.
“It’s been over for a long time.”
And to be ‘over,’ they needed to have started, which meant… “You’ve fucked Michaela?”
Zach’s hesitation told me everything I needed to know.
I hadn’t rushed a damn thing.
I’d been right.
“You’ve fucked her!” The words flew out of me with too much emotion. Zach couldn’t see how much he hurt me. I forced down a deep breath. “All the times you stayed at work late, the weekends you went into the office to help her out—” I flattened my lips and wrestled my anger under control. “How convenient that you forgot to mention you used to be in a relationship with her.”
“It wasn’t like that!”
“Then explain to me exactly what it was like!”
“Eden, when I was with Michaela…” His head bowed, but his fist clenched by his side. He was fighting to hold himself together. When his eyes lifted again, they were clouded, misty.
No, no, no.
“You were in love with her?” I choked out. That was it, wasn’t it? He’d said those words to her. Not me, but to her!
“No!”
“Then what? What’s all this?” I waved at him. The feelings he was battling were almost tipping him into tears. He’d never been particularly emotional over the times he’d let me down. Maybe he’d muttered a few half-arsed apologies and promised to try harder next time, but nothing as raw as this. Not even close.
“It’s…it’s…nothing,” he said.
“Liar.”
Zach flinched but didn’t deny it.
“We’re done .”
And he didn’t knock again when I slammed the door in his face.