STEPH
Walking into the kitchen, the half eaten cake from Cairen’s party yesterday sits on the side in a container. Justin hands me a coffee and tells the kids to clean their teeth before school.
The balloon in the shape of a figure eight wafts from side to side and I stare, mesmerised, thinking of Callum and how I need to be with him. I want to marry him. I will marry him. The next time he asks me, I will say yes. I’ve made up my mind. Whatever it takes, I’ll make it work.
“I want a divorce.” My throat closes up after spitting out the words and I hold my breath, waiting for Justin to speak.
He slams his empty cup on the worktop. “Not a chance in hell.”
“We’ll share the kids. Lots of people make it work.” I thought I could live a happy life knowing my family is happy, but my misery has been rubbing off on everyone lately. I put on a brave face each morning, cover myself in makeup and apply my red lipstick, but underneath it all, I’m torn between two worlds. The man I love, the other half of my soul, the one that makes me feel at home, and the life I have where I try to keep everyone happy except myself.
“You ungrateful bitch. I’ve tried my damned hardest to make you happy. What more do you want from me?”
“I’m sorry. I just don’t think it’s working out. We only get one life, Justin.”
Cassie walks down the stairs and rummages through the shoe box in the hall.
Justin walks around the breakfast bar to the kitchen table where I’m sitting. “You should’ve thought about that before we started a family. We’ll talk about this later.” His jaw clenches and his eyes are like shards of ice piercing my soul.
“I’ll be late home.” If I make it home. I could stay at my sister’s house tonight or Claire’s. The thought of coming home and him manipulating me into staying again makes my stomach twist. I won’t stay. Not this time. It took every ounce of strength I have to say those words and I’m not backing down now.
The coffee tastes stale like my marriage. I leave it on the table, grab my bag, kiss Cassie goodbye and Cairen as he comes down the stairs, knowing I may not see them again tonight.
Will Cal still want me? It’s been a few weeks. What if he’s seeing someone new? I have to tell Cal how I feel and hope he still feels the same. I’ll go after work today and tell him. My heart pounds and my stomach flips, but I can’t stop smiling at the thought of seeing Callum’s face when I tell him, YES, YES, YES to each time he’s asked me to leave Justin. It’s never too late. I hope I’m not too late.
* * *
I driveby his house after work, as I have done many times over the last few weeks, hoping to see him. Hoping I won’t change my mind. Hoping he still wants me. I could just call him, but I can’t seem to tap his name, afraid that he won’t answer, afraid that he’s changed his mind. I need to see him, so I can make a judgement call before spilling out my heart to him.
As I drive onto his estate, my breath hitches, seeing his Audi parked in his allocated parking bay. My heart races, and my stomach flips like I’m about to jump on a rollercoaster.
With clammy hands, I grip the steering wheel and manoeuvre the car into the next bay, taking deep breaths to calm my nerves and stop the twitch in my lip. I’m still undecided to go in or not. Justin will expect me home soon to talk me into staying with him. Bile rises in my throat.
If I go into Cal’s house, I'm pretty sure of what's going to happen—if he still wants me. There’ll be no going back.
I wind the window down, letting the cool breeze hit my clammy skin. The evening sun pokes out from behind a cloud, causing me to blink and pull the visor down. The longer I sit in the car, the more I sweat and not because of the weather.
Sod it. I grab my bag, climb out of my car, checking my surroundings as I grip my pepper spray. Closing my eyes, I knock on his door and wait with bated breath. What if he has his girls? I should turn around. No, I should knock again. No, turn around. I force myself to spin on my heel and step towards the car.
The door clicks. “Steph?”
I pivot on the spot. My mouth open and dry, preventing me from speaking. I can barely breathe as I scan his body in the doorway in nothing but a pair of black jogging style shorts with a drawstring waist. The sun shines on his inked torso, making the phoenix on his chest glisten with sweat like he’s just been working out.
I suck in a breath. Who is he working out with? Does he have a woman in there and has just chucked the shorts on for quickness?
“Are you all right, Steph?”
I nod with eyes wide, wiping my clammy palms on my skirt and doing all I can to keep my heart and lungs functioning.
“Come in.” He turns sideways, making space in the doorway for me to enter. I take a step forward, then another. With each step, my heart stutters. The door clicks behind me, making me jump. There’s no going back now.
My foot collides with a stack of boxes in the hallway, and I place my hands on them to stop the wobble. “Sorry. What are these?”
He smoothes a finger over his eyebrow. “Just packing up some stuff.”
Everything in his kitchen is packed up, too. Only a single mug and plate sit on the draining board. “Are you moving?”
“Yeah, I'm just packing the rest of my stuff. I was just moving these boxes into the hallway when you knocked.”