Beyond repair.
TAP, TAP, TAP
I shift in my seat, my arse tingling like a bitch.
Tap, tap, tap.
Grumbling, I stretch my legs, trying to find a comfortable position.
Tap, tap, tap.
It’s no good. I feel like I’m squished into a can of sardines. Why can’t I get comfy? I roll over . . . and smack my head on something fucking hard. “Arghhhhh.” I rub furiously at my forehead and blink my eyes open, frowning when my vision clears. It’s dark, and I’m staring at a road. “Huh?”
Then a face appears, close, pushed up to the glass. “Tyler,” Martha screeches.
I jump, hitting my head on the roof of my car. “For fuck’s sake.” I give my fresh bout of pain approximately two seconds of my attention. Then I remember where I am and why I’m here. “Lainey.” I search my lap for my phone, scrambling to dig it out from beneath my thigh. Ten missed calls. “Shit.” I scroll through the notifications. Two from Mum, three from Sal, five from Gina, and numerous voicemail alerts. But nothing from Lainey. My wretched bastard of a heart sinks.
Tap, tap, tap.
Looking to my right, I find Martha showing the heavens her palm. “What the hell are you doing?” she asks through the window.
I sigh, letting down the glass. “Is she home?”
“No. You’ve been sitting out here for five hours, Tyler. When are you going to give up?”
I ignore her question and open the door, getting out and cracking my bones until I’m standing upright. Shit, my arse is dead, my legs are full of pins and needles, and my fucking foot is throbbing.
I stretch as Martha folds her arms across her chest and waits for me to speak. She’ll be waiting a while. I have nothing to say to her, and I don’t expect her to enlighten me on anything Lainey, so I’m not making small talk. I’m also not begging for information on her sister’s whereabouts. Like I said, I’ll wait here all night if I have to. Lainey’s going to have to face me at some point.
“You’re a stubborn arse,” Martha says, winning my attention.
“I want some answers.” I shrug, resting back on the side of my car. I must be a glutton for punishment. I already know she’s a liar and a cheat. What more do I hope to get out of speaking to her? Oh yeah, of course. I want her to simply face me. Look me in the eye. Not be a coward and hide from her wrongs.
“You’re really hurting, aren’t you?”
I peek out the corner of my eye to Lainey’s sister, wishing my male pride would race forward and save me any more humiliation and heartache. But it won’t. Damn thing. My male pride and ego haven’t been the same since Lainey landed in my life. “I thought I meant something to her.” I drop my eyes to the ground. “I was clearly mistaken. I just need the woman herself to face me and see the damage she’s done. To tell me it was all a sick game.” I’ll never touch another woman again for as long as I live. Ever. Drastic? Yes, but I’m not risking going through this shit again, because it’s the worst kind of pain.
“I don’t think it was a game to her.”
I laugh, loud and coldly. “Really, Martha? A woman walked into my office this afternoon and slapped Lainey, shouting warnings for your sister to stay away from her husband. She was with him last night when she told me she was with you. I’ve seen Lainey with endless men in the short few weeks she’s been in my employment. And I just found out from my partner that she kissed him. Don’t tell me she’s not playing a game, though what the fucking prize is I don’t know.”
“Control.”
“What?” I snap, scowling.
“The prize,” Martha says, her face serious. “The prize is control.”
I cock my head, many memories invading my mind. One in particular. “Her ex-husband.”
Martha’s face twists in repulsion, confirming what I already know. “He ruined her.”
“Clearly,” I snort. And now that fucker’s actions are the cause for my ruin, too. “You said you thought she was done with that shit. What shit, Martha?” I need to know.
She gulps, evading my eyes. “When you two were starting to get serious, she promised me it was behind her.” Martha falls into a daze, staring at the ground.
I’m getting somewhere, but I tread carefully, nevertheless. Martha seems like a bolter, just like her sister. “What was behind her?”
She jerks out of her daydream and looks at me sadly. “You really love her, don’t you?”
“Yes.” My answer is instinctive. It’s also wrong. I did love her. Not now. Now she’s a bad experience I never plan on repeating. “I mean n—” The correction of my answer dies on my lips, vehemently refusing to let me say it. “I don’t know.”
A few lingering minutes of silence surrounds us, Martha watching me, and I start glancing around to avoid catching her eye and reading her conclusions. “You know,” she breathes, “Lainey’s never going to appear if your car is in plain view outside her flat.”
“Are you suggesting I hide it in my pocket?” I answer, my tone full of the sarcasm I intended.
“No, I’m suggesting you park it over the road and come in and wait.”
I shoot a look to her. “Really?”
She starts back up the stairs to the foyer. “Yes, fuck it. I want to know what the hell she was thinking, too.”
I’m jumping in my car fast, starting the engine. “Give me two minutes.” I race out onto the main road and park it in the first available, concealed space in a side street opposite Lainey’s block of flats, then hobble back across the road. I’m blowing out my arse by the time I make it back. “Thank you,” I say, accepting the door Martha’s holding for me.
“Welcome. Don’t expect me to make small talk with you. I have coursework to do. You can wait on the couch.”
“No problem.” I’m totally cool with that. “And thanks, Martha.”
“Yeah, yeah. She’ll probably throw me out, but hey.”
We make it to Lainey’s apartment, and I head for the couch when Martha points her silent order, not prepared to risk pissing her off and making her question her decision to let me in. I’ll sit here and be quiet, and only speak when spoken to. Besides, I could do with the quiet so I can prepare for the confrontation that’s on the cards.
Martha heads over to a table that’s splattered with material swatches, designs, and lots of knickknacks—buttons, bows, and all sorts. She gets to work like I’m not here, and I force my brain to think of all the things I need to ask Lainey. I slump back, my hand nervously tapping the arm. Was it all a lie? Did she have any feelings for me? What’s this shit she promised to quit to her sister? Why the fuck did she string me along? How does it feel to know she’s destroyed me? When—
My questions all grind to a screaming halt when I hear the door shut, and I shoot up from the couch in a fluster. And every question I had on my mental list vanishes from my mind in a puff of smoke, my burning up body helping them along. I feel hot. My heart is thrumming. What will I say? What will she say? Was this a massive mistake? What will I gain, except another dose of agony in my already painful heart? And to look at her while she delivers the blow I’ve asked for? Will this be the last time I ever see her?