Page 195 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2
Dante inhaled sharply. “Hey now, come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just – well, you’re separated.”
“He hadstubble,” I fumed. “It does things to you, makes you act silly. His stubble is evil and it jujued me. Rat bastard fucker.”
“Hey,” Dante raised his voice over my justified rant. “Stop it. Cussing like that. What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?” I dragged out sarcastically with eyes narrowing dangerously. “Oh didn’t you hear? I’m bloody pregnant for the most inconsiderate, heartless, selfish jerk in the world who stopped loving me over something I didn’t do.”
Dante cleared his throat, shooting me anxious glances. “Um, and are you staying that way, Madi? You know I’m in your corner, but,” He stared out the windscreen. “I mean fuck, I’m pro-choice.”
“Me too.” I grumbled.
“But,” Dante cleared his throat again.
“But what?” I challenged him, hands clenching in anger, and fear.
“I’ll always support you,” Dante hedged, his own hands tightened over the steering wheel. “But,”
I grunted at his hesitation and he turned his head in my direction, only for a moment before he returned his eyes to the road. My lips quivered. There had been a glassy shine to his eyes, a glassyliquidshine that threatened to spill past his thick lashes. Dante’s jaw tightened and I saw his throat bob up and down a few times.
“They’re yours,” he whispered. “And that makes it different, it’s different. I don’t know why, it just is. Fuck. Not just one, but two, Madi. Sweet Jesus. I – you can’t-” He sniffed and bent his head intohis shoulder. A quick swipe that confirmed the liquid shine had evolved into tears. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw him cry. “Whatever you decide,” he said with an unexpected gruffness that made my head and heart ache. “I’ve got your back. I’m going to be right here.” He lowered his head to his shoulder again. “Whatever you-”
When his voice cracked, it broke the dam forged around the despair I’d felt since leaving A&E. Unable to stop the onset of my tears, I faced the window, quietly weeping in tune to Dante’s own ragged breathing.
I was pro-choice, but deep down I knew I couldn’t make that decision. The right decision would keep me, keepuson the course to success. Our dance company was making a name for itself. We were known. The right decision would see me continue to hone my craft, to excel on stage, todancewithout fear of losing my edge, without fear of being left behind, without being the reason our shared dreams crashed off-track. The right decision…and I heard my aunt’s voice, as clear as if she was sat next to me:as you make your bed so you must lie in it.My bed had been made. Could I now bear lying in it? Damned stubble was my kryptonite.
“You need to tell him, Madi,” Dante whispered. “You have to tell him. You can’t not tell him. It’s not fair if you don’t.”
Sniffling, I wiped the corners of my eyes. “Well, life isn’t fair, is it? Fuck it. Fuck fair. Fuckhim.”
CHAPTER 24
“Yes, I’ll bethere,” Matt cradled the house phone between his ear and shoulder while finishing up his report. He raised his head in brief acknowledgement as George entered his office bearing a tray with a much needed pot of tea. It was a new infused blend. “Mum, I said I’ll be there.”
George poured a cup of tea, added the milk then quietly retreated from the office. Matt stretched his legs under the large desk and tried to hurry his mother off the phone. Her continuous concern, which Matt saw as pestering, was sweet but misplaced. And her constant need for reassurance he’d be spending Christmas with them was now grating on his worn nerves. Taking a moment to sip his tea, Matt made a mental note to sign the cards that would accompany the gifts purchased for his family. Rachel had seen to that yearly chore, he would be lost without his secretary no doubt. His mobile vibrated across the desk and Matt cast a cursory glance at the screen.
“No, I have no idea what Grumps and Dad are up to – Listen, Mum, I really must dash. Love to you all, bye.”
Matt felt a smidgen of guilt once he ended the call but it was fleeting. He had no time for guilt. In fact he had no time at all for anything other than work. The state of world-wide oil affairs was downright alarming, and they had seen a decrease in their overall profits this year. Adam was worried, so was he. It didn’t help both his father and grandfather felt it necessary to remind them the fate of their company rested solely on their shoulders. Failure, even if the markets were volatile, was not an option. Falling profits was a sign of failure. Hannah’s silent disapproval added to their mounting stress. Although she had chosen a family life over one in their family’s corporations, her business acumen was as sharp as Matt’s and Adam’s. How many decisions had been made in the privacy of his father’s study with her softly-spoken input challenging and changing their initial thoughts? Of course, she too would be worried about the current state of the economy and what it meant for their amassed fortunes. She had her daughters’ futures to think of, and while their family would never be paupers, once born into a certain level of wealth the possibility of it diminishing drastically was a terrifying one.
Matt grunted in frustration and pushed his chair back from the desk. Again his mobile vibrated across the sleek surface, again he ignored the caller. Did he feel bad for avoiding her calls since yesterday? Partly, but Louisa had known exactly where things stood that night after Nathan and Bella’s dinner party a couple of weeks ago. She had caught him at a bad time, and like a blood hound she had sensed it and exploited his wavering resolve. It wasn’t like they had shagged. Matt snorted and rubbed his temples. They’d done many things, but they hadn’t shagged. He still had his self-righteous moral high ground in comparison to his wife. The usual ache that appeared whenever his thoughts drifted to her didn’t seem as potent this time and Matt contemplated the possibility of overcoming his feelings. Perhaps Louisa had helped him after all. Then he remembered sitting in the entertainment room last weekend, broodingly watching the documentary which featured her dance company. Anyone who knew her could see the change in her over the period of filming. From a charmingly nervous but determined woman to a reclusive shadow of herself, who hid behind the protective wall of her loyal troupe and rarely smiled for the cameras unless on stage. If Matt recalled correctly, the final stages of filming had taken part while they were having marital problems. It was embarrassing, humiliating in fact; having a failed marriage. A terribly short one too. Matt cringed every time he happened upon any little gossip about them. Being likened unto those tactless celebrities getting married and divorced at the toss of a hat irked his pride…yet that was exactly the circumstance he had found himself in. They hadn’t even made a year, which wasn’t only embarrassing, it was laughable; and the media seemed to delight in his public shaming. At least there was only speculation over the apparent demise of his marriage. Speculation he could tolerate, what he couldn’t abide was the vicious barbs directed at his soon-to-be-ex-wife in some gossip columns. They couldn’t get past the fortress of his privacy but Madi was still relatively accessible to them. Catching her out and about on her daily activities was child’s play in comparison to catching him. His twin nieces had pointed out he’d figuratively thrown her under the bus by not affording her any protection against the media since their split. Hopefully it would all die down soon and they could put this behind them.
Returning to work, Matt spent the next hour going over the jointproposal he and Adam had drafted to address their company’s issues. When George knocked on the office door he actually welcomed the intrusion.
“What is it, George?” Matt asked.
“You have an unexpected guest,” George advised. “James is here.”
Matt did nothing to hide his surprised frown and George, ever in-tuned to the nuances of his employer’s personality, backed out the room with a quick nod.
“I’ll tell him you’re unavail-”
“No, no,” Matt cut him off. “Show him in.”
George nodded and hastened out the office to retrieve Matt’s P.I. A short while later James sat across the desk, his hand rested over a thin file that he’d unceremoniously placed on Matt’s desk. Matt reclined in his chair, silent and patiently awaiting an explanation for James’s unexpected presence at this time of night.
“There’s a slight problem concerning your wife.” James advised as he eased the file across the width of the desk towards Matt.
Sparing the barest of glances at the file, Matt interlaced his fingers over his chest and shrugged. “I’m not interested.”
