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She should’ve talked to Ellie about all that sort of stuff before they’d left for Mexico. How did Ellie balance being a mother, and a part-time helicopter pilot, and still give enough attention to Kane? They had three kids for goodness’ sake.

But Dru knew she and Ellie were different personalities. Even though Ellie did have a hard streak too. Emma was the only one out of the three sisters who hadn’t developed that hard core after Dad’s murder.

Maybe it was because Emma was a doctor and had more ability to look after herself.

But Ellie seemed to still have a close relationship with Kane. She thought back to last weekend when they came for lunch. When Connor had bailed and Greg turned up.

Kane and Ellie had presented a united and loving front. Dru had seen the way Kane had touched Ellie’s shoulder on the way past, and given her a smile and how their eyes had stayed connected. All the things that she and Connor had done when they had first been in love. How long had it been? Had it only been two months or had there been a gradual creeping of distance between them since Ruby arrived?

Greg’s words confirmed her belief that Connor was lying to her about where he was that afternoon. The acceptance of that truth had shattered Dru, and she had no idea how she had kept going in front of the family. That was proof that Connor couldn’t deny and if he wouldn’t talk to her today, she’d be telling him just that. Greg had told her the truth, and he was just as worried about Connor as she was.

Pushing herself to her feet once the stitch had gone, she crossed the Esplanade again and turned up Knuckey Street towards the building where Connor’s office was situated on the fourth floor.

The lift was waiting in the foyer downstairs, and she stepped in, pressing the button to go up. Her mind was churning as she tried to get her opening words right.

How hard was it to go to your husband’s office and ask him to come out for a coffee with you? If he said no, then she’d just have it out with him there.

The door opened silently, and she stepped into the deserted corridor; the carpet muffled her footsteps as she approached the door of Kirk Francis Security.

The glass door to the office was closed, and there didn’t appear to be a light on inside.

Dru’s heart kicked to a pounding rate as she read the small type font of the note stuck on the frosted glass.

CLOSED FOR A MONTH. PLEASE CALL THE NUMBER BELOW FOR URGENT ENQUIRIES.

She recognised the mobile number typed below. It was Greg’s.

If the office was closed, where was Connor going every day?

Did he have a hidden life?

Did he have another home?

Was he with whoever she was during the day?

Dru’s worry dissipated as a strong surge of anger consumed her.

How dare he?

How dare he treat me like this?

Turning swiftly, she strode back to the lift, jabbed at the button, and waited. Seething when she stepped in and the lift headed downwards, Dru waited impatiently for the doors to open before she strode out, only to come to an immediate stop.

Through the foyer, she could see the loading bay in the street directly outside the double glass door.

A car pulled in and her husband appeared from the side of the building. Connor opened the passenger car door of a low-slung red car that looked very expensive. Dru narrowed her eyes as she quickly crossed the foyer and stood at the side of the window. A woman was sitting in the driver’s seat.

Dru’s heart almost stuttered to a stop as her husband reached out and took the woman’s hand.

##

Dru opened her eyes when their apartment lift came to a stop. She blinked and looked up at the green numbers lit up on the panel. She couldn’t even remember coming into their apartment block or getting in the lift. Her mind had been in a red haze of grief and anger as she’d run from Connor’s building. The stitch in her side was still pulling and stretching, and the pain was running down her leg now. Her lower back was clenching, and one small part of her mind remembered that same pain from when she’d given birth to Ruby.

Oh God, no. Please no.

Her body shivered as her confusion cleared and she stepped out of the lift, clutching her handbag with one hand and her right side with the other; she’d run all the way home from Connor’s building, and the stitch had got worse and worse. She’d put her bag over her shoulder and cradled her hands beneath her pregnant stomach when it became unbearable.

The pain intensified and she gagged, putting her hand over her mouth as she walked towards the front door of their apartment.