My hand tightens on the sheet, clasping the last vestiges of my dignity to my chest. With the other, I sweep the trailing ends from my feet with the decorum of a debutante dressed in a ball gown. Without thought for the future, only for the past, I try to hide the strain in my forcibly lowered voice.
‘Then I’d like you totakeyourself out of my bed.’
He doesn’t move, just stares up at me.
‘You heard me. Get up. I’d like you to leave.’
‘Because Essam fucks around, you’re going to kick me out?’ Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he swipes his discarded pants from the floor.
‘No, because cheating means nothing to you. I can’t be with someone like that. Marriage is supposed to mean something. Love and honour, for a start. I can’t be with someone who thinks it’s okay to fuck someone else’s wife.’
Pain from the past reaches my throat in a sob. I’ve barely cried over my never-was marriage since leaving Australia, why would my body choose to do so now? God, my dress. It’s still hanging on the back of my old bedroom door. Shoes and veil in a box on the dresser. I hold a hand to my eyes in an attempt to control the flow.
Self-fucking sabotage!
‘Grow up, Kate. Marriage doesn’t always equate to love, especially here.’ His tone is ice-cold as he begins to stab his legs into his pants. ‘I don’t concern myself with labels and don’t give a fuck what people think. You might want to try it. It might loosen you up.’
His words land like a slap as the doorbell rings. Without really thinking through my state of undress, I begin to stamp my way out of the room, dashing hurt from my cheeks with the back of my hands, his words following me out.
‘You’re about to answer the door wearing bedding!’
‘I thought you didn’t carewhat people think!’
I yank the door wide, my breathing as hard and as fast as a fat bloke at a rave. A fat bloke wearing overalls.
A tiny jolt of panic halts my pulse as I open it wide.
‘Hey, Katie.’ Warm but tired, his eyes are as travel-worn as the clothes on his back. ‘I’ve come a long way, babe. You gonna invite me in, or what?’
Life is a filthy, dirty trickster with the ability to convince you that up is down. Just when you think you’re sorted, when you think you can divide the wood from the trees, it drops a great fucking branch on your head.
I can’t speak. No, really, I can’tas Kai’s hand clasps my shoulder.With gravitas.
‘Who is this, habibti?’
I brave a glance to his face, unable to find the words to answer as I stare into the dark, simmering depths of his eyes.
‘I’m her fiancé,’ Shane interrupts from the doorway. ‘Babe, who the fuck is this?’
