‘I really wish you wouldn’t call him that.’
‘What? Randy Rory? He should keep his hands to himself, then.’
‘One time!’ she says, really laughing now. ‘He touched your ass one time, and he was half drunk.’
‘Half drunk, and he mistook me for you? Come on—I’m like a foot taller than you are!’
‘You are not. And he’s still frightened of you.’
‘Rubbish,’ I reply with a touch of asperity. ‘You and I both know he touched my posterior because it’s irresistible.’ Standing, I turn and wiggle my bottom in her direction.
‘Yep,’ she responds, giving it a resounding smack. ‘Irresistible. J-Lo has nothing on those buns. Now, be gone. Go run! And I’ll see you at the restaurant later?’
Something in her tone causes me to turn. ‘I’ll absolutely be there, but is there a special reason you ask? Are you and Rory making it... official?’ Rory presented her with an engagement ring months ago, but she’s yet to wear it on her finger.
‘Well... ’ She stretches the word a mile long before finally answering. ‘Imayhave been promoted this week.’
‘You little sneak! How long have you been keeping this to yourself?’
‘Just since last night.’
‘That’s amazing, Fin. You so deserve it.’ After the year she’s had, she deserves all the good things. ‘This calls for champagne.’
‘Yeah, totally, but not for breakfast. Go get your run in before it rains.’
‘I’m so happy for you,’ I say, slipping my key into my jacket pocket.
‘Watch for fallen leaves,’ she calls as I close the front door. ‘Those slippery little fuckers will have you on your ass!’
Outside, the winter air is bitter cold and damp, the latter the result of this morning’s rain. I pull the building door closed behind me and curl my left heel into my bottom to begin stretching my quads when my phone buzzes.
I pull it from my jacket pocket, fumbling and almost dropping the thing as I notice Jonathon’s face flash on the screen. I breathe a sigh of relief that we’re going to do this now—make up, I mean—as it typically takes us a couple of days to get to a place where we’re ready to even talk civilly.
As I bring the phone to my ear, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck prickle, prompting me not to speak—to keep quiet.
‘Oh, God...’More groan than actual words, it isn’t a sound of pain, but one of exquisite pleasure.‘Fuckyeah ... like that.’
My stomach roils, my fingers white and bloodless around my phone. My whole body begins to shake even as my mind struggles to compare the sounds I’m hearing—the voice I’m hearing—to the life I knew just two minutes ago.
This is Jon’s voice—Jon’s breathy sighs—there’s no doubt. It may have been a while since I’ve heard him utter such curses and filthy moans, but neither my heart nor my head can deny this is him.
‘More tongue.’I hear a hitch of breath, a hissed,‘Yes,’and I want to be sick. I swallow down the urge and the bitter taste of bile and whole wheat toast as the sound of rustling cloth sounds in my ear
‘Yes... that’s right. Take it deep.’And then the killer comment—words that cut my heart like a knife.‘Oh, baby. I love your mouth.’
The call cuts off as a bus passes, the tyres creating a wetswooshagainst the road. I stare at the phone in my hand like it’s a small alien—like I don’t know what that was. Even as a million words scream inside my head.
How could he?
How could I not know?
How could he do this to me?
Jonathon.
The father of my future children—children who will now never be born.
The man who knows me better than anyone else, even if the same can’t be said the other way around.
