Chapter 34 #2
Dad and I would barge into each other's rooms first thing in the morning, wearing the most ridiculous hats whilst carrying the biggest cake we could justify buying. We’d sit on the bed and eat it straight from the box for breakfast until we felt sick.
We always said it was pointless waiting until later in the day for cake.
Now he's in a grave, hours away from me.
“Look… why don't you just go? I’ll close up.”
It comes out snappier than I intend it to. I’m already strung tight, and the last thing I want is to snap at her for breathing too loudly. I just need quiet. Five minutes where no one was talking or looking at me.
Quinn studies me, the teasing dropping from her face. She knows me well enough not to question it.
“You sure you'll be alright?”
She grabs her stuff as I continue staring at the floor. My throat burns, and I bite the inside of my cheek.
“I’ll be fine,” I answer her, because it's easier than the truth. “Just go. Have fun on your date and tell me all about it tomorrow.”
Hopefully, tomorrow I won't feel like this.
Not likely.
“Alright, babe. Don't stay too long. Get Elijah to pick you up, yeah?”
I nod.
“And have great sex. Always perks me up when I feel shitty.”
A broken laugh slips out despite everything. Only Quinn.
She presses a quick kiss to my cheek before heading out, the bell above the door jingling as she leaves.
I finally let out a breath I didn't realise I had been holding. The mop slips from my hand and clatters softly against the floor. I press my fingers into my eyes, hard enough to see spots, willing myself not to fall apart in the middle of the coffee shop.
It's no fucking use.
The tears come anyway. Hot. Relentless. I swipe at them, but they just keep falling.
I grab one of the black cushions from the couch and hurl it at the wall. It hits with a dull thud and drops to the floor. It's not enough. So, I throw another. And another. My chest is tightening, like it's caving in and crushing my heart.
Before I can stop, I’m knocking chairs over, and the scrape of the wood against the floor is loud. My hands fist in my hair, tugging hard enough to sting. A broken sound rips out of me—somewhere between a scream and a sob.
I can't think. I can't breathe properly.
It feels like every bit of progress I've dragged my way through since he died has shattered under my feet like the grief has been waiting for this very moment to drag me back under.
I’m drowning in it.
I don't even register the door opening—the bell, the world, all of it fades beneath a low, relentless buzzing in my ears.
Turning on my heel, chest heaving and my vision blurred, I find Rose standing at the door. Her arms are crossed, and she's watching me, a smirk on her lips like she's enjoying seeing me break down.
Humiliation crashes over me.
“What the fuck do you want?” My voice shakes.
“Well, I did come to have a word.” Her gaze drifted over the overturned chairs, the cushions on the floor, my tear-streaked face.
Her lips curve. “But seeing this,” she exhales a soft, delighted laugh.
“This is much more entertaining. Please, don’t stop on my account.
Maybe you'll slip, fall, and well, you catch my drift.”
The fuck.
Is she actually implying I should break my neck?
I grind my teeth so hard my jaw aches. “Get out.”
I see the wedding ring still gleaming on her finger. It's polished. Prominent. Like she's clinging to something that died a long time ago.
Delusional.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I bite out, my voice shaking. “And I’m not in the mood. So if you don't leave in the next three seconds, I will drag you out myself.”
She's the last person I want to see on any day.
But today? Today, it just feels cruel.
“You've always been one for tantrums.”
I point to myself. “Me? You wouldn't have the slightest clue what I was like.”
“River told me plenty,” she says casually. “But I didn't come here to watch your crocodile tears over your dad's birthday.”
My eye twitches.
This woman is going to get me arrested, and I would gladly get sent down for bashing her face in.
“I've come to tell you to stop sleeping with my husband.”
My entire body goes rigid.
There is absolutely no way she knows.
For one, she’s never seen us together. We have always been careful around others, and she hasn't been around enough to even figure it out.
I force a slow breath out.
“Ex-husband,” I correct coldly. “You're delusional if you think I’m sleeping with him.”
She walks closer.
Her eyes drag over me with open disgust. “Don’t lie to me. I can see the way you look at each other. You hated him once. And now you look at him like he hangs the moon.”
My fingers curl into fists, and I wish for nothing more than to give her a black eye.
I hate that she's figured it out, but I can't let her know that.
“You can think what you want; I don’t care.”
“You don't even know what kind of man he is.”
“He’s a decent man.” I defend.
I want to scream that he's more than decent. That he's kind. Patient. Warm in ways I didn't even realise I was missing until I got to know him.
That he feels like home in a way I never expected to find again.
But I swallow it down.
“Maybe now, but do you know why I left your dad for him?”
“I don't want to know.”
I push past her and reach for the door, pulling it open wider so she'll take the hint and piss off.
But she doesn't.
Just laughs softly and shakes her head.
“The affair with Elijah started just after you were born.”
I don't want to hear any of this.
“You did my head in. I hated being a mum. But Leon loved it, even if we were just teenagers. You ruined my body, my social life. I was angry all the time because of you.”
My grip tightens on the door until my knuckles turn white.
“Mum of the fucking year,” I mutter sarcastically.
She ignores me and carries on. “I always had a massive crush on Elijah. I started getting closer to him because your precious dad just wanted to spend time with you. Completely forgot about me.”
She rolls her eyes like even now she resents that. The fact that she wasn't somebody else's number one anymore.
"I started fucking Elijah, and your dad had no clue. He got me hooked on drugs. Did you know that? The sex was better than anything with your shitty dad. But by the time he found out, I was already pregnant with River, and then your dad left with you.”
No.
She's lying.
She has to be lying.
Elijah isn't that man, or he would have told me. There's no way he was on drugs. He wouldn't force someone else to do them.
God, I feel sick.
“Elijah will come back to me if he knows what's good for him. A silly little girl won't satisfy him for long.”
She taps my cheek lightly.
“You're just temporary fun for him.” She invades my space, not giving a care about hurting me.
“Do us all a favour, Willow and go join your dear old Dad.”