Page 17 of Seasons of Sin

So more than once, then. It hadn’t been the first time. Of course it hadn’t been, she thought with self-directed sarcasm. Affairs built up to the ‘let’s screw in your marital bed’ phase. They didn’t begin there, surely. “How did it start?”

“Baby,” his tone was designed to make her feel unreasonable. “This is not a conversation to be had over the phone. Come home. Let’s talk properly.”

“No.” She squeezed it tight. Now the tears began to slide down her cheeks. She dashed them away but new ones simply took their place.

“No?” He was silent for a long moment. “Saffy, you’re the one I love. I’ve always loved you. Anita was … she’s nothing. Nothing to me. Let’s never speak to her again.”

“God!” She shook her head angrily. “You’re such an arse. She’s my best friend! I’ve known her forever. Did you have any idea what it would do to me to discover that the two people I love most in the world have been carrying on like this?”

“Of course I didn’t think of that,” he hissed. “I didn’t think at all. I was an idiot. A complete wanker.”

“Yeah, you sure as hell were. Jesus, we’ve been married two months! Two months! Was it going on before the wedding?”

He didn’t answer immediately and foul regret and suspicion brewed in her gut. “She was my maid of honor,” Saff intoned flatly. “What a bloody stereotype we are, huh?”

“Saffy, it doesn’t need to be like this. Just come home. Just let me explain.”

“There is no explanation. Only atonement.”

“What does that mean?” He begged. “I will do anything. I will do anything you want. I just don’t want this to be over. Please just tell me what I need to do.”

She stared, unseeing, at the sparkling ocean in front of her. “There’s nothing you can do. It’s all up to me.” And she disconnected the call then switched her phone straight off to prevent him from calling back.

She didn’t stand up straight away. Instead, she cradled her knees to her chest, and placed her head down on them for support, and she sobbed silently.

She didn’t know if it was grief over her husband or her friend, or anger at the betrayal and dishonesty, but she wept for the whole torrid mess that her life had become.

CHAPTER 5

“I’m telling you, Rocco, she’s a dream.”

His friend laughed down the phone line. “Now I see why you didn’t wish me to join you.”

Thad grinned. “You would definitely have cramped my style, man.”

“You met her the day of the funeral?”

“Yeah.” Thad stared at his emails and grimaced. There were hundreds that should have been dealt with, and not one caught his attention.

“How?”

“Long story,” he said, unwilling to share the details of their relationship, even with a man he thought of almost as a brother. “It was random. A thousand things could have gone wrong and we wouldn’t have met.”

Rocco was incapable of speaking for several long moments. “You’ve known her how long? A few days? And you speak as if this is some kind of fateful love-match.”

Thaddeus ran his finger over the keyboard slowly, thoughtfully. “Don’t be absurd. I’m not a fool. She’s not looking for anything serious and God knows, nor am I.” The denial felt heavy in his mouth, the words unnatural.

Rocco nodded, but an instinct in his gut was unsettled. “What does she do?”

“Do? You mean for work?” His smile was indulgent. “I have no clue.”

The suspicions grew. “And how old is she?”

“Mid-twenties?”

“Christ, Thad, do you even know her name?”

Thaddeus smiled triumphantly. “Saphire Arana, and she lives in Notting Hill.”