Chapter 48
O pening up to Jonathan, sharing the ugliest parts of me with him, only for him to turn around and practically fall on his knees in his attempts to reassure me has me wanting to try.
To prove I’m more than what they did to me—what they stole from me.
To let him in even though the thought of doing so fills me with a fear so intense, it stops me in my tracks most of the time.
So, when Donna floated the idea of a girl’s night at hers, for once, I didn’t hesitate.
If anyone can help me sort out my conflicting emotions, it’s her.
Seeing Fiona after all this time—especially factoring in the fact that our kids got married—feels long overdue.
The way all our lives have ended up intertwined thanks to our children feels fitting in a ‘what a small world’ kind of way.
“Will Una be there?” I ask, phone wedged between my ear and shoulder as I flick through my wardrobe for something to wear.
Cora’s sentimentally stopping her from getting rid of my belongs sure came in handy.
The thought of starting from scratch and building up a whole new wardrobe right now sounds like hell .
“Una? Absolutely not. That bitch had the nerve to cheat on Ciaran and then accuse him of being the cheater. The only reason she’s even somewhat relevant is because she managed to get knocked up before all that.
” She sniffs, and I can positively feel her disgust bleeding through the line.
“His new wife should be coming, though. Jen’s… harmless.”
An uneasiness settles in my stomach, but I shake it off.
I can’t let fear of the unknown stop me from taking steps towards healing and moving on, or those bastards will have won, and my escape will have been for nought.
With promises to be there soon, I hang up and focus on getting changed before I can change my mind.
Slipping a simple shift dress and some heels on, I do my best to channel my most confident self.
Applying some makeup and spraying some mist to de-frizz my curls, I take a couple of deep breaths and give myself a pep talk before heading downstairs.
The sound of my heels on the hardwood floor echoes in the otherwise-silent penthouse as I make my way to Jonathan’s office.
I’m sure he’ll be over the moon I’m making steps to improve and leave, to branch out and rebuild.
Rapping my knuckles on the door to his office, I push it open and lose my breath.
The sight of him behind a desk still sends me bat shit crazy, even after all this time.
The man is designed for this look. The businessman who’s hot as shit and knows it.
The mafia leader through and through. Looking up at me, he runs a hand through his dark hair as he blesses me with a smile.
“Hey there, sweetheart. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. I’m heading to Donna’s for a few with the girls,” I tell him as I watch his small smile turn into a blinding one.
“That’s great. Just let me grab my keys, and I’ll take you.” He’s already rising as he says the words. As he rounds his desk, his smile slips for a second as he looks down at my feet. “Why do you insist on wearing those death traps? Especially when we both know how much you detest them.”
“You know what they say: beauty is pain,” I tease him, biting my lip as he shakes his head and mutters to himself. Making our way to the living room, he pulls me to a stop.
“Wait here for a second,” he commands, dipping down to press a kiss to the side of my forehead before disappearing upstairs.
With heat racing through me, I do as he asks, only to blink back tears as he reappears with a pair of ballet flats in hand.
Reaching me, he slowly drops to one knee and holds eye contact as he switches my shoes.
Feeling his touch on my ankles as he slowly helps me step out of the heels and into the flats, combined with his unflinching eye contact, has me biting back a whimper as he presses a kiss to ankle before rising to his feet and cupping my face between his hands.
“You’ll never suffer one more moment of pain, Helen.
Not on my watch.” Speechless, I can’t do much more than blink back tears and swallow down the emotions threatening to choke me.
With a hand on the middle of my back, a touch I’m growing to not just tolerate but crave, I let him lead me down into the garage and over to his car.
The ride passes in a heated, weighted silence, and as he pulls into their driveway, his next words do little to snuff out that heat.
“Call me when you’re ready to come home.”
Home . The word still echoes in my head as he rounds the car to help me out, placing a hand on my waist as he guides me up the steps. Tipping my chin back to look at him, I open my mouth to say something—God knows what—when all of a sudden, the door is ripped open, and our bubble bursts.
“Helen, lovely to see you again,” Fiona gushes, her dimples shinning as she grins at me. I can tell she wants to pull me in for a hug but is restraining herself for my benefit, which just makes me even more determined to overcome my fears.
“And you,” I tell her, closing the distance between us and hugging her for a second.
She freezes in shock before gently squeezing me.
Clearing her throat, she steps back and ushers me in.
With a glance over my shoulder, I see Jonathan watching us with a heated look; when he catches me looking at him, he winks before dipping his chin and heading back to the car .
Lord help me.
Following Fiona through the house to the kitchen, I see more than one framed photo featuring our girls.
Knowing Cora had Donna and Abigail in her corner helps ease some of the sting.
Entering the kitchen to the sight of Donna elbow deep in cookie dough, I stifle a laugh at the look on her face.
I glance around; it seems like we’re the only ones here right now.
“Need a hand?” I offer, slipping my jacket off and draping it over the back of a chair.
“Absolutely not. Sit down and relax,” she protests, hip checking me when I come round to see what she’s trying to do.
“Are those meant to look like that?” I laugh at the misshapen cookies. It looks like she tried to make them heart shaped without a cutter, resulting in some interesting cookies.
“Hush and drink up, would you?”
“Where’s Jen?” I ask Fiona, taking a seat beside her at the table and smiling as she passes me a wine glass filled to the brim. My kind of girl.
“She should be here any minute. Apparently, her daughter, Lily, was causing a bit of trouble, and she got held up,” Fiona answers with a roll of her eyes. It doesn’t take a genius to read between the lines and sense what Fiona thinks of that.
“So, tell me: do we like her, or is she an Una 2.0?”
“She’s not an Una, but she’s also not…perfect,” Donna answers diplomatically just before the doorbell goes off.
With a look, Fiona lets out a sigh before she leaves to let her in.
Clearly, she drew the short straw. Taking a sip of my wine, I raise a brow at Donna in silent question.
With a shake of her head and a tip of her chin at the doorway, I shelve my questions for later.
Swivelling in my chair just as the girls appear in the doorway, I take Jen in.
At first glance, she’s nothing special and radiates ice queen energy by the bucketful.
My hackles are instantly up and as she turns her nose up at the wine Fiona offers her that feeling only strengthens
Going by the look on Donna’s face, I’m not the only one taking offense with her attitude. The tension in the air doesn’t dissipate as the night passes in a blur of small talk, wine, and cheese. Just as it’s wrapping up, something Jen says catches my attention, and not in a good way.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked what Belfast was like. That’s where you were, right?
” She frowns. Sure, I know Jonathan and Co.
had been looking into my disappearance and trying to find me, but that doesn’t explain how she knows.
And if she did know, posing the question like that, like it was a nice little vacation, is beyond insensitive.
Donna, sensing the tension, wraps things up by making a show of looking at the time and declaring it late.
In a flurry of stilted goodbyes, Jen leaves, Fiona hot on her tail, a blush coating her cheeks as Seamus picks her up.
His gaze is heated, and it’s nice to know at least one of us will be getting lucky tonight.
Once it’s just me and Donna, I turn my focus on her.
“Okay, fess up. What’s the story there?” I ask as, with a groan, she flops beside me, kicking off her heels and running a hand through her hair.
“I’ve tried to keep an open mind with that woman, but the way she treats her daughter doesn’t sit right with me. And the ways she’s so cold just isn’t right. You got that vibe, didn’t you?” She frowns, pursing her lips.
“By the bucket. What’s the story of how they met? Her accent doesn’t sound local.” I frown.
“Well, after Una cheated and then tried to paint him as the one in the wrong, he went a bit off the rails. They had to get a whole new host of girls at Albi after he’d done the rounds and things got a tad awkward.
Jonathan sent him to Belfast for a job, and next thing we knew, Jen and Lily were moving in with him, and there was a ring on her finger.
I’d call her a gold digger if she didn’t come from money of her own. ”
“Something doesn’t add up. Did you see the way she asked me about my time in Belfast? As if it was some holiday?” I scoff, downing the rest of my wine to chase away the memories.
“Speaking of, how did she even know that’s where you were? I don’t even think I knew that.” Donna frowns. The more titbits she shares, the more I think about things, and the more red flags go off. Something about her truly isn’t sitting right with me.
“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”
“Oh, hell no. I know that look in your eyes, and it spells trouble with a capital T.”
“Please, help me look into her. I’m sure it’s nothing, and I don’t want to point fingers without facts. I promise, the second it gets too much, I’ll bring it to Jonathan,” I plead, trying to appeal to the Donna who was never was able to resist a good mystery.
“Fine, but I swear the moment this blows up, I’m blaming you.” She teases me with a roll of her eyes before topping our wine glasses up and grabbing her laptop from the coffee table. As she fires it up, I send a text to Jonathan to let him know the change in plans.
Helen:
Slight change of plans. Donna has pulled out a few photo albums and another bottle of wine. I think I might just crash here and get her to drop me off at Cora’s in the morning.
Jonathan:
As long as you’re sure. You know I don’t mind coming to get you, no matter how late it is.
Helen:
I think it might do me some good. Baby steps, you know?
Jonathan:
Yeah. Well, if you change your mind, I’m only a text away, sweetheart.