“Belle,” I hissed. “Let’s just go.”
“Nope,” she said in a low voice. “This is like a dog thing. The first to break eye contact is showing submission.”
The uncomfortable stare continued. Eventually, Rose looked at her feet and went back inside her house.
When we were safely out of the street, I turned to Belle.
“That was fucking creepy. We should have just left. This isn’t a fight between high school girls, Belle. She’s a fully grown, fully psycho woman. I don’t want you getting involved or making this worse.”
“Yeah, but she needs to know there are people looking out for you and that we’re not going to tolerate her shit,” Belle reasoned.
“I’ve been talking to Shelley about Rose and said that I am considering moving house,” I confessed. “It’s going to be a lot of hassle, but I can’t live like this. Shelley didn’t pass an opinion but just said that I should do whatever it is that will help ease my burden. I think that is moving. I have no guarantee she’smoving. Wouldn’t she have moved by now? Colin’s been gone a while. Even if she does move, maybe a fresh start for us would be good.”
“Whatever you decide, I’ve got your back. My cousin is a real estate agent; let me know if you want me to hit her up.”
“Thanks, will do. I haven’t chatted to Blake yet but I think he’d been keen to move. This whole thing is like a dark shadow that won’t go away, and I feel like we can’t work on our future with Rose hanging over us,” I said.
“I can see why living across the street from Lizzie Borden might have that effect,” Belle commented dryly. “Blake was definitely a shithead. But his consequences have been more severe than most shitheads who have emotional affairs get. I’m not saying just move on and forgive him, that’s for you to decide. I’m just saying this whole situation isn’t normal. Most emotional affairs don’t end in a real-life reenactment ofThe Hand that Rocks the Cradle.”
“Fuck, don’t even joke about that. I’m always stressed. I can’t even have a shower when Blake’s not home because I won’t have eyes on Immy.”
“Sorry, you know black humor is my thing. You keep Immy safe beautifully. Just keep being vigilant and hopefully it will be over soon.” She patted my hand, causing the car to veer to the left.
“Hands on the wheel!”
“Whoopsies,” she laughed. “You’re an awesome Mom, Haz, and an amazing woman. Keep talking to Shelley, keep talking to Blake, and keep talking to me. But for this weekend, let’s dump Immy on Mom and Dad and have a rager!”
Chapter 20. Blake - Gift bows
I scrolled through the real estate app on my phone. I was seriously considering moving and was working up the nerve to speak to Haz about it. With our relationship so up in the air, I was reluctant to broach any subject relating to our future in case it pushed her to decide she didn’t want a future with me. Since she’d started counseling, she’d made a generous effort to talk with me about things other than Immy and the house, and I could sense she was becoming lighter in her mood. But we were still so fragile, and I didn’t want to push her, especially given everything going on with Rose and Haz being postpartum.
Rose. That woman’s name was like a stab to the guts. The biggest mistake of my life. Even if she hadn’t turned out to be a psycho, she’d have been the biggest mistake. There was so much distance between me and Haz, and I was the one who’d put it there. Living with guilt sucks. You wake up in the morning feeling normal, but within a few minutes remember the shitshow that is your life, and heavy guilt sets in until you go to sleep that night. Haz had stopped sniping at me about Rose (even though I deserved it), but I knew she felt uncomfortable, even scared, living across the road from her.
Last week, I installed a Ring doorbell, so we’d at least have eyes on the front door. Frequently during the day I’d bring up footage so I could see what was going on outside while I was at work. I’d called the police about the nursery at Colin’s house, but they said their hands were tied. We had one person’s word for it, and there was no law against redecorating your house. This was getting so frustrating.
My phone chimed.
Haz: Arrived safely. Immy a champion traveler. Chat tomorrow.
Me: Thanks for letting me know. Have a good sleep tonight. Love you xx
After scarfing down some leftover stirfry, I took a shower and settled into the sofa in my sweats. Mick and I had been talking about old movies this week, and I had the sudden desire to rewatch all the Rambos. Tomorrow, I was going to tidy the yard and do a deep clean on the house so it was perfect when Haz returned. But tonight, I was going to lose myself in the classics. My phone pinged at the same time as the doorbell went, but there was something across the camera. I wandered over to the door. We had no peephole. I just knew it was Rose. Fine, if she was going to breach the order, I’d yell in her face, be so harsh that she couldn’t doubt for a second that I hated her and she had no place in my life. Then I’d call the cops and push for her to be locked up or fined. Maybe even both.
I opened the door and there she stood, in a cream-colored robe. Her hair was loose and down, with fat curls.
“Bear, baby … I saw that—”
“Get the fuck off my step. I’ve already called the police. I don’t like you. In fact, I hate you. Don’t call me Bear. Don’t come to my house. Get the fuck out of my life. You are crazy and I do not ever want to see you again.” I delivered my speech loudly but slowly, so she couldn’t miss a single word.
“I saw Harriet leave with that lesbian. They’re probably together, Bear. You don’t need to push me away anymore,” she urged, looking like she was close to tears.
What? How did she know Belle’s sexuality? I’d never even talked to her about Belle and they’d never met. Had she been stalking Belle?
“Get. Off. My. Property. Haz is my wife, and I love her. Only her. Not you, never you. Leave now.”
She stared at me, making no move to leave. I was about to close the door and call the police when she dropped her robeopen. She had one of those cheap plastic gift bows on each nipple and one on her vulva. What. The. Actual. Fuck. I was sickened by the sight of her but caught a flash of color on her hip. It was a tattoo of a bear in a construction hard hat. Bile rose in my stomach, threatening to spill out of my throat.
I slammed the door, bringing my phone up to my ear. Fucking hell. Surely this was enough. The woman had a fucking bear tattoo. She came over naked and “gift wrapped” when she knew my wife was out. I was so grateful for the Ring camera. It would prove my innocence to Haz, if she still doubted me, and Rose’s insanity to the police. I found myself wishing I had her mom’s number. Not to sympathize but to threaten her to get her psycho daughter out of my life.
