“I’ll go find her.” I turn to leave the kitchen.
“Wait,” Sam calls, and I glance over my shoulder. Heruns a hand through his unruly orange hair and its only now I notice the dark circles under his eyes and the unnatural paleness of his face that makes his freckles stand out more than usual. “Thanks, Gia. You know I appreciate you, yeah?”
“Yeah, I do, Sam,” I say with a soft smile, then turn and head out the kitchen.
On my way to Olivia’s room I pass and greet Isabelle and Donna, the two social workers that come to check-in on the girls twice a week, and Cassie, our full-time counsellor who I catch on her way to the kitchen to make tea.
“Cassie, what’s up with Sam? He’s looking more stressed than usual today.”
“Oh, right,” she answers, rubbing a hand over her brow, her short black bob brushing the top of her exposed collarbones. “They’ve just cut government funding again. He’s worried about the cost of living expenses.”
My stomach twists at the news. Sam was already re-working the budget last week due to a lack of funds, so I can only imagine how much this new development has him reeling.
“Shit, I wish there was something I could do.” I bite down on my lower lip and I feel my brows pull together as an errant thought passes through my mind.
“Me, too,” Cassie sighs. We smile grimly at each other then I continue down the hall to find Olivia, popping my head into Alice’s room on the way to deliver her flower, which she accepts with a radiant beam.
Two hourslater I’m simultaneously playing duck, duck, goose out in the backyard with Beth’s three-year-old twinsHudson and Hattie and discussing the latest scandal from a famous pop group with Emma while she rocks gently on the tree swing.
“I just can’t believe he would cheat on Candice Star!” Emma exclaims, licking the jam off the top of a scone. “She’s a supermodel!”
I jump up when Hattie knocks my head and says ‘Goose!’And start chasing the giggling toddler around the garden.
“I can,” I say, pretending to catch Hattie. She races to sit her little bottom down on the grass next to her brother, both of them falling into a fit of laughter at my theatric breathing. “He’s a famous rock-star, and a man. A man who has women throwing themselves at him everywhere he goes. Of course he’s not saying no to that.”
I know I sound jaded, but that’s only because I am. My husband might not be an A-grade celebrity, but he’s pretty famous in the sporting world and there was never a shortage of women trying to catch his eye. I was just too naive to realise he was shoving his dick into most of them. Well, my eyes are too wide open to close them again now.
“I don’t believe that every man is like that,” Emma muses in her own sweet way, brushing her strawberry blonde bangs out of her eyes. At only eighteen and having experienced the worst of what some men are capable of, she still manages to look at the world through a lens tinted with youthful hope. I don’t know whether to envy or pity her, my sweet Emma.
“Well, I do, and you should too,” I say as I walk circles around the twins, patting them softly on the head. They giggle in anticipation.
“These are your best scones yet, Gia,” Emma says. She finally bites into one, pushing her big toe into the ground to keep the swing moving gently. “Can you teach me how tomake them soon? Then I’ll definitely find a man to love me.”
I sigh internally, deciding I’ll give Emma a pass to the ‘you’re a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a man’ speech that I’ve already given her ten times already. I don’t have time today.
“Sure. Maybe next week, Em,” I say instead, referring to both the scones and my lecture, before exclaiming‘Goose!’and running away as Hudson comes barrelling after me. When he’s caught me and both the twins have knocked me to the ground, tickling me into submission, I hear my alarm sound from my phone in my back pocket.
Fuck, time to go.
My stomach twists and turns over the appointment I’ve been dreading all week.
“I’m hereto see David O’Leary.”
My voice shakes as I force the blaspheming words past my throat towards the platinum blonde receptionist, who’s staring at me from behind her marble desk like I’m something the gutter-rat-loving cat dragged in. Granted I could have dressed a bit nicer for my appointment today, but I didn’t really think it mattered what I wore to meet the man who would help me finally rid myself of Daniel for good. It’s not a job interview, for christ sake. Besides, it would have been hard to play on the grass with the twins wearing a pencil skirt and heels.
I brush off the receptionist’s disdain for my athletic attire, wishing I could brush off my nerves just as easily. I’m certain that somewhere, somehow, Daniel’s radar for deviant wife activity has been triggered and he’s about to storm through the glass doors to drag me home. I wouldgive anything to still be at Hope House, helping Sam out with the endless list of things to do there, but instead I turn to where the snooty receptionist indicates for me to sit in the plush reception of the prestigious law firm, Martin&Klein. Thereally fucking expensivelaw firm, recommended by Anna, that will be handling my divorce. As I wait, I can’t help the nervous flick of my Nike-sneaker-clad foot as my eyes dart around the modern waiting area, before finally settling on the backdrop of grey sky out past the twentieth floor window. I’ll go back to Hope House tomorrow. I often do that, drop in randomly on days when I have nothing else to do. Which, apparently, is quite often.
The faint trill of the receptionist’s phone catches my attention.
“Hello, sir,” the pretty blonde answers, her voice soft and raspy for who ever is on the other end of the line. “Youroffice? I thought Da-”
I check my home job manicure before placing my hand on my bouncing knee.
“-Okay, sir. Of course. I’ll redirect the file and be right down.”
My gaze snags on a dark spot on the beige carpet, and I’m wondering if it’s something on the bottom of my sneakers that’s caused the blemish on the otherwise perfect space when a pair of sky high stilettos appear in my line of vision.
“Follow me please, Mrs Sanders.”
