Chapter 1 #2
“Scarlett, it was a moment of madness. What can I say? I was a fool.”
“Is this why we haven’t had sex in months?” Scarlett straightened and opened her eyes. “I mean, it’s not been very good for a long time. Did you get bored?” She paused for a moment and her eyes widened. “Have there been others?”
“Oh God, I, no, I– Scarlett, I’m so sorry.” He shook his head, running his hands through his blonde hair.
Scarlett watched him, wondering if he’d been doing that all night, as it looked like it needed a good wash.
“I actually have no more words right now.”
“I’m so sorry.” He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.
She sighed. “So am I.”
A silence descended, heavy with pain and regret, as if they both realised there were no magical words to fix the damage done.
To be honest, she hadn’t been happy for a while, but she didn’t think you were supposed to be after being married this long.
She thought it was more a matter of being content at this stage.
Although now she thought about it, she wasn’t sure if she’d even been that.
“I can’t ask her to leave. She’s carrying my child.”
Scarlett stilled– stunned by the barefaced truth of it all.
Just wow.
There it was. The real sting. Angelica was having his baby.
Holy fuck.
She already knew this from the previous night. But hearing it again, sober, was like having it speared through her heart a second time.
The child they had spoken at great lengths about not having. After all, his career had to be the focus, their marriage and relationship a priority. A child didn’t fit into that. Or at least it hadn’t until now, with their twenty-one-year-old tenant carrying her husband’s baby.
She looked at the hot, clammy hand holding hers, attached to what she could only describe as a stranger.
Who was this man in front of her?
She genuinely wasn’t sure. Looking into his dark brown eyes, she recognised nothing of the man she thought she knew.
He looked tired and lacked the sparkle she was so used to seeing; years seemed to have piled onto him in a matter of days, and not in a complimentary way.
Scarlett pulled her hand away. It didn’t feel safe anymore. He wasn’t safe.
“Angelica doesn’t need to leave,” she finally said, her voice steadier than she expected. “I’m the one who’s leaving.”
Jason looked taken aback, almost making her laugh out loud. Was he actually expecting her to stay?
“Scarlett, be reasonable.” He shook his head. “Where on earth would you go?” His words stung her further. He was right.
There wasn’t anywhere for her to go. She had no relatives. Her aunt Maggie, who wasn’t even a real aunt, had passed away six years ago, and the only living family remaining was her mother, who she barely spoke to, and who now lived and worked on some crumbling old estate in Scotland.
“We can make this work,” Jason said with such sincerity she did actually laugh.
“How do we make this work, Jason?” Her voice cracked as she tried her hardest not to let her emotions show, but she was genuinely curious about what he was thinking at this point.
“We, I– I’m not sure, but we’ll find a way.” He looked down at Scarlett’s hand, as if weighing up whether she would allow him to take hold of it again.
“There is no more we . You saw to that when you put your penis inside our lodger!” Scarlett’s vision blurred, and it took a few seconds for her to realise it was because she was crying.
That was the last thing she needed. She felt humiliated enough.
“Jason!” a voice called from the hallway. Scarlett and Jason looked at each other, panic etched across both their faces. “Jason, darling, it’s Mummy. Are you home?”
“Scarlett,” he said, almost in a whisper, “please don’t go.” At least he had the decency to appear sheepish.
“Jason!” shrilled his mother’s voice again.
“In the conservatory, Mother.” His eyes continued to plead, but they left Scarlett feeling cold.
Mummy Dearest swept into the room like the potent perfumed force of nature she was, something Scarlett was not ready for.
“Oh, I see.” Tara did not hide her contempt at the fact Scarlett was there. Anyone would think she was the one who had impregnated the lodger.
Tara ceremoniously sat herself down, smoothing the skirt of her light blue dress, whilst Scarlett’s thoughts paused on Angelica, the sweet, funny, and quite literally full of life girl they’d taken in as a favour to Jason’s old school friend.
A smile played on Scarlett’s lips as she imagined how that nugget of news would go down.
“Happy to see you still find humour in entirely inappropriate situations, dear.” Tara’s voice was thick with sarcasm.
Nothing new there.
Of course, Tara had been there last night when Scarlett had furiously confronted Angelica and Jason at the party, making Scarlett cringe.
To block it out, she brought her attention back to the room, her beautiful, lovingly decorated sunroom.
It was comfortable and welcoming, with its soft pastels and cream, the light oak furniture she’d restored herself, and her indoor clematis climbing up and around the windows and double-door frame, bringing it all together.
She drank in the pleasing aesthetics– the situation was telling her it wouldn’t be hers anymore, especially if Tara had anything to do with it. Even that being the case, she still didn’t like that her mother-in-law was filling it with her toxic energy.
“Well, that was suitably childish and humiliating for all concerned.” Tara took a dramatic pause to observe the two non-adults sitting across from her. “Do neither of you have anything to say? And where is the girl now?”
Jason cleared his throat, as if readying to deliver a speech. “Angelica is out. She wanted to give me and Scarlett some time and space to talk.” His words were barely audible. He was becoming less attractive each time he spoke, and Scarlett wondered if he’d always been this spineless.
“How on earth could you ever let this happen?” Tara aimed the question at Scarlett, who felt her face redden.
“Mother,” Jason said, although any follow-up words seemed to evaporate in his throat.
“A woman should keep her husband satisfied enough to avoid this type of thing happening, or if you’d perhaps provided a child yourself, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”
She registered the glint of amused malice in Tara’s green eyes, which swept over Scarlett with indifference. Despite her age, Tara was still beautiful– tall, dark, and elegant– but Scarlett always thought her bitter personality detracted from her beauty, making her wholly ugly in her eyes.
“A woman has duties, after all.” Tara was now openly goading her.
Bitch.
But Scarlett was too shocked to breathe, let alone speak. The room felt as if the air was being sucked out of it. Surely she was watching some insane reality show on Netflix, and this wasn’t her own life playing out in front of her in three-dimensional, telenovela-style drama.
It all felt surreal– to the point she lost the use of speech or even the will to fight back. She had no desire to stand up for herself or slap that smug and sarcastic look off her mother-in-law’s face, something she’d often fantasised about.
She had nothing. Her fight was gone. The inclination to say what was and wasn’t fair had dissipated.
“That’s enough, Mother, you’re being unfair,” Jason finally said.
Maybe he did still have a spine, but it wasn’t enough to stop Tara’s tirade.
“Hardly. A man has needs that must be attended to, including the production of a child to carry on our legacy.” Tara examined her manicure. “At least this girl has provided that.”
Jason could not make eye contact with anything other than the floor.
Scarlett suddenly stood up, surprising them all, herself included, and for a moment she was mute and bewildered.
She was painfully aware of how she looked, especially in contrast to Tara’s impeccably polished appearance.
Her own hair was erratic and unwashed, much like yesterday’s clothes that she’d absentmindedly put back on this morning, and she was now outwardly shaking.
As if things couldn’t get any worse, Angelica chose that moment to materialise in the doorway, her tight blonde curls and fresh, dewy complexion exuding even more of a youthful glow than usual.
God, their baby is going to be sickeningly beautiful.
Scarlett shook her head to rid herself of the image of their family Christmas photo, instead– and also unhelpfully– noticing how full and bouncy Angelica’s breasts were under the tight white t-shirt that hugged and accentuated every feminine curve, including her still tiny waist, where there was nothing but a hint of a bump showing, which somehow made her even more attractive.
Scarlett wanted to vomit.
Everything was suddenly too bright. Too beautiful. The textures and colours of the plants, flowers, and soft furnishings were too colourful. It was all just too much.
In a vague attempt to embody the calmness of that one yoga class she went to a year ago, Scarlett closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose, slowly opening them again as she blew out through her mouth.
“Hello, Angelica, you’re looking well,” Scarlett finally said, even managing a forced smile.
“Err, thanks.” Angelica looked at Jason, her eyes wide and slightly panicked.
Scarlett turned to face Tara. “Have you ever considered the idea that you’re not qualified to talk about keeping a husband satisfied when you literally drove yours into an early grave?”
The three other people in the room simultaneously gasped and Scarlett took a moment to enjoy the shock on Tara’s face.
Feeling encouraged, she continued, “And it was your son’s decision not to have children, a decision that until now he has adamantly stood by for the entirety of our,” Scarlett paused for a moment to do the mental arithmetic, “thirteen-year marriage.”
“That’s a long time,” Angelica mused out loud, immediately looking sheepish as everyone’s eyes fell upon her with evident exasperation.
Angelica attempted a smile as an apology, which was ignored as they brought their attention back to Scarlett.
“Yes, it is,” Scarlett said to no one in particular.
“Scarlett, darling,” Jason began, promptly silenced by Scarlett’s raised hand.
“I’m going now,” she said, getting up and walking towards the doorway where Angelica stepped aside to let her pass.
She stopped and turned back to look at Jason. “And I’m taking the car.”
Scarlett briefly glanced at each of their faces, and, feeling confident in her decision, she left the room.
She placed her handbag over her shoulder and grabbed her phone and the car keys from the ornate Indonesian-wood side table in the hallway, her fingers lingering on its smooth cool surface for a moment, before picking up her case by the front door.
Then, she left the house, not looking back, and not bothering to close the front door behind her.