Mendacious (21 page)

Fuck.

Not my smartest move, but I try and make light of the situation after when she sits back on the bed. “I’m used to taking them off rather than putting them on,” I chuckle to myself.

“And I wonder how many pairs over the years,” Libby muses. “I bet you didn’t keep it in your pants for very long.”

And then the mood plummets.

I can’t bloody win.

“Do you honestly want me to lie and say I’ve stayed celibate for seven years in the hope we bumped into each other, and oh, I don’t know ... have a one night stand that gets you pregnant? Don’t make me laugh, Libby.”

She pretends to be taken aback, but I catch her cheeky smile that she hides with the back of her hand. It was brief, but still enough to light up the room for a nanosecond.

“Can we go?” she asks, looking at the door longingly. Her brother hasn’t come back, and there is nothing to really stop her. “We can meet Dale out in the hall if he is lurking around the nurses’ station or something?”

“Okay.” I throw the rest of her belongings in the gym bag and sling it over my shoulder before slipping my arm around her waist and walking to the door.

We make it out into the hall and instantly spot Dale lingering at the nurses’ station, exactly where Libby had indicated he would be. He gets given a white paper bag with tablets which he smiles graciously for, and starts flirting with the nurse on the other side of the counter. He doesn’t notice us until we walk past and I swipe the tablets out of his hand.

“Fucking dickhead,” I mutter, shaking my head. “And that is why I don’t want you going home with him. He only gives a shit when he wants to.”

The automatic doors open for us and we walk out into the car park. I realise I don’t have my car with me, but thankfully a taxi is conveniently dropping somebody off and we get straight in. Dale comes out a couple of minutes later and pushes his face up to the glass.

“Get out,” he mouths to Libby.

I shake my head on her behalf, lock the door, and then mouth not so subtly for him to, “fuck right off.”

“Libby, get out of the fucking taxi,” he roars, slamming his hand against the window.

“Can we go, mate?” I ask the driver. “This psycho is doing my head in.”

“You got it, boss. Where are we off to?” he asks as we pull away from the Accident and Emergency department.

~

We pull outside of my building a little while later and I find Libby fast asleep against my shoulder. The taxi ride mixed with the drama from this evening has clearly tired her out. She just needs to sleep which is why I’ve brought her back to my place. It is sort of against her will, but she’ll thank me in the morning when she hasn’t got her arsehole of a brother lingering around.

“Keep the change,” I say, handing the driver twenty quid and opening the door.

The gym bag gets slung over my shoulder again as I reach inside of the taxi and scoop Libby into my arms. Her head falls against my chest and I hear her whimper, but it isn’t long before her soft snores echo once again.

“Mr. Lewis?”

Jeffery greets me on the door and I see his questioning eyes at me carrying another woman into the building. A couple of weeks ago it was my sister, and this time it’s my ex-wife. Although, to Jeffery, Libby is just another girl I’ve brought back. She has never been to my apartment before, so I’m interested what she’ll think in the morning.

“Jeffery, would you grab that lift for us, please?” He rushes forward and grabs the door as I step into the car. “Nice night?” I ask, trying to divert the attention away from Libby.

Although Jeffery is a good man, I don’t want anybody looking at her like this, and I’m sure she would be feeling the same if she were alert.

“It has been a little busy this evening, sir,” he replies, pressing for my floor and keeping his eyes focused on the large steel doors. “Ms. Lewis came by earlier this evening, but I told her that you were not available.”

Why was Alice here?

“Thanks, Jeffery. I’ll give her a call in a little while,” I say, stepping off the car when we reach my floor. I hear him murmur his goodbye as I step up to my front door and buzz myself inside, being careful not to crack Libby’s head off the side of the doorframe as I’ve seen in countless comedy films over the years.

I’m sure she’d love me for that ...

“Almost there,” I whisper under my breath as I head for the spare room. My foot springs out to lightly kick the door wide, and I step inside and realise that my housekeeper hasn’t been today, and my mother and sister only left this morning. The room is a mess and the sheets haven’t been changed.

I’m trying to think on my feet about what to do when Libby starts to stir in my arms. She fidgets uncomfortably and I feel my grip on her loosening.

There isn’t anywhere for her to go but ... My eyes drift toward my bedroom door.

It’s wrong what I’m about to do, but I don’t have a choice. It’s either that or she sleeps on the sofa, which I doubt she would thank me for in the morning; especially not with the bruising on her back and chest. She needs to sleep in a bed.

You can protect her if she is with you.

There isn’t any time to weigh up the pros and cons. Instead, I head for my bedroom and carefully place Libby in the centre of my super king bed. She rolls over to one side and buries her face into a pillow with a groan as I attempt to slide off her trainers.

Once I’ve got them off, I make quick work of my own clothes and throw on a pair of black cotton pyjama bottoms. Turning off the light, I pad barefooted across the room and slip into the other side of the bed next to Libby.

My
bed.

I’m honestly not sure how long I’m out for, but when I wake up, I realise I don’t want this moment to end. It feels like the old times between us. Just simply being together without a care in the world, or at least until I had to get ready for work.

That was when the illusion shattered according to Libby. When my work started to interfere with our lives. And ultimately, when it ruined our marriage.

But I’m not perfect. Despite my standards and expectations, I know even I can’t strive for that ultimate perfection I crave. I don’t honestly think that anyone can.

“Mmm ...” Libby stirs in her sleep and snuggles closer to me, her legs entwining naturally with mine.

I probably should push her away, but I don’t. In fact, I smile at the way she mews against me, and the way her invitingly soft skin wraps around my body with the tightness of a wetsuit. Her hand snakes across my bare torso and it curls around my upper arm.

I’m in heaven right now.

This woman fills a void in my chest cavity that has been hollow for a long time. But I know this is just a fantasy, and that as soon as she wakes up, all of this will be long forgotten. We are practically sworn enemies who seem to have this on and off relationship. One minute things feel brilliant between us, and then next, we are reminded of what keeps driving us apart.

“Alex ...”

Libby starts to murmur in her sleep, her face contorted from the dream she is having. She groans and loosens her hold on me, rolling over to the far side of the bed, taking most of the duvet cover with her.

“Go to work then,” she grumbles under her breath before her light snores fill the room.

My lip twitches partly with annoyance and partly out of amusement. Even in her dreams she still manages to get angry.

“Libby,” I murmur, reaching out and stroking her shoulder. “Are you hungry?” I realise she’s pregnant and hasn’t eaten anything since the restaurant last night. She needs to think about the baby and making sure she is eating enough. “Libby?” I ask her again but she still doesn’t wake, so I get out of bed and head for the kitchen anyway.

Opening the fridge, I pull out a mixed fruit salad and put some bits onto a plate. While I’m at it, I stick two pieces of bread in the toaster and pour her a glass of orange juice.

“What are you doing?” I hear her murmur.

Spinning round on the spot with an unbuttered piece of toast in my hand, I see Libby leaning against the island rubbing her eyes. She spots the toast in my hand and her eyes light up.

“I’m starving,” she says, taking it from me. She puts it on the plate, grabs a knife and starts buttering it. “Is that juice for me too?” She doesn’t wait for an answer and swipes the glass in her other hand and heads for the sofa.

I blink a couple of times, my mouth hanging open slightly. I’ve never seen this side of her ... ever. And I kind of like it. She told me she wasn’t going to take my shit anymore, and she wasn’t lying.

“Good Morning to you too,” I call across the room, when she sits herself down and switches on the television. “And don’t worry, I’ll pour another glass of juice and butter the other toast.”

“Awesome.” She sticks her glass of juice in the air in acknowledgement. “Bring that bowl of fruit while you’re at it.”

My snippy reply comes out full of sarcasm. “Anything else?”

She doesn’t respond.

Literally ... she ignores me.

Opening the fridge, I make sure I’m loud as I pour another glass of juice and butter my now cold toast. But I’m not angry. In fact, I’m finding this whole charade fucking hilarious.

“Can I sit down?” I gesture at her sprawled body lying across my sofa and the buttery hands she keeps wiping down her leggings. “Maybe you should get a plate next time,” I say, noting the mass of crumbs all over her yoga vest.

Libby looks down and raises an eyebrow. “Easily solved,” she replies, standing up shakily and brushing her hands over her chest, sweeping the crumbs onto my floor and sitting back down again.

“Okay ...” I take a deep breath and put my plate and glass on the coffee table. As amusing as it was, that crumb thing has just pissed me right off. “What’s going on, Libby?”

“I’m fine.”

I point at the mess. “This isn’t you. I’m hardly gonna believe you’ve suddenly got this ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude for no reason.”

She sighs. “I’m shit at this sort of stuff.”

“What stuff?”

She takes her legs off the sofa and sits up-right, but her face twists with pain as she does so. “I was trying to annoy you. It’s the only way you’ll let me leave otherwise.”

“It worked.”

“I know it did,” she smiles proudly. “Your face was classic. I knew you were about to blow when I stood up and brushed the crumbs on the floor.” She clutches her stomach suddenly and takes a deep breath. “I feel like I’ve been beaten up this morning. It hurts to even breathe at the minute.”

“And that’s why you’re staying here,” I murmur, sliding onto the sofa beside her. “There’s no way I’m letting you back home near him so he can convince you to abort our baby.”

Her eyes widen. “I’d never do it.”

“I understand. But I just have that doubt in my mind. I’ve lost one baby with you, and I’m not prepared to lose another. I want to make sure that you have everything you possibly need throughout the pregnancy, which I can make sure you have while you are here.”

“I-I’m not staying until the baby is born, Alex.”

She will be, but I don’t say anything. I’m going to scare her off if I tell her that I plan on keeping her here for the duration of her pregnancy. I’ve done a lot of thinking since learning about the baby, and I believe the only way we are going to know if this second chance will work, is if we are around each other. So I’m afraid she’s stuck with me for the time being, or until I’ve decided if this is going to work out or not.

“I promise you I won’t be staying here, Alex.” The tone of her voice is a warning that I dismiss with a casual flick of my wrist.

“If you say so,” I reply, fully intending on finding every reason available for me to keep her here. “Are you going to book an appointment with the midwife?”

“I’ll do it in a minute. My phone is in the gym bag, and I’m too comfy to move.” She stretches her arms above her head causing the yoga vest to rise above her stomach.

My eyes zero in on the bare flesh on display. I’m hungry for her, my dick pulsing in my pyjama bottoms. But I know better. We can get closer, but we shouldn’t sleep together. It would just complicate our feelings.

“I’m gonna go check my e-mails. I’ll leave you to call the midwife. If you need anything then give me a shout,” I say grabbing my toast and juice from the coffee table and heading for my office.

I need to get away before I end up pouncing on her.

~

Closing the door to my office, I exhale a long and strangled breath, and go and sit at my desk. I’ve got a couple of e-mails from Sean and Benedict this morning wanting to know how last night went. I’m not sure I even have the balls to tell them about what happened, let alone that Libby is pregnant.

Deciding that ignorance is bliss, I skip over their e-mails for now and delete the rest of the junk that has managed to escape my spam filter.

But there was one e-mail that I didn’t delete because it caught my eye. Opening it up, my screen fills with brightly coloured lettering and pictures of baby furniture for purchase.

I know it’s way too early to be thinking about these things now, but the idea simply intrigued me. My eyes are drawn to a plain white nursery set and I can’t stop my mind from wandering. I picture Libby sitting in an armchair in the corner of a pastel coloured nursery. She is cradling our baby to her chest, a loving smile twinkling on her lips.

But there is one thing missing from the picture.

The baby’s father.

Me.

I should be standing beside Libby. The picture should include me, smiling and happily enjoying the little family we’ve created. But will we be happy if we force ourselves into this?

Putting my head in my hands, I lean my elbows on my desk with sigh. I know what I want, but I don’t know if it will work. And I hate this feeling. I’m used to snapping my fingers and getting what I want, but I sense Libby is going to make this a challenge.

“Shit. What do I do?”

There isn’t an answer to my question because I don’t know. I’m literally overwhelmed with the decision.

Taking a gulp of juice, I put the glass back down as my phone starts to ring. Picking it up, I read the caller display and see my mother’s name.

“Hey, mum,” I answer, closing my eyes and lightly smacking my forehead with the palm of my hand. “Is everything alright?”

“Alice came by last night because she forgot her phone charger. She said you weren’t home.”

Of course nothing gets past my mother. I can’t breathe without her detective eyes on me. She seems to always know everything.

“Yeah, I just popped out for a little bit. Nothing fancy or anything.”

My mother clears her throat. “Well, I had a call this morning from Helen, and she told me that her daughter saw you down A&E at the Queen Elizabeth last night. Did you hurt yourself? You should have phoned me—”

“Mum ... Mum ... Mum ...” I repeat, trying to get her to stop talking for one second. “I’m fine. And yes, I was at the Queen Elizabeth last night, but it wasn’t for me.”

Please don’t press any further—please.

“So why were you there?”

I bang the palm of my hand against my desk and try thinking of the first lie that comes into my head. But I’ve got nada. Literally, nothing ...

“Darling?” My mother presses me for an answer. “What happened? Was it Sean?”

Bingo
.

“Yes,” I reply. “Sean got beaten up at the gym pretty bad, and we were concerned he dislocated his shoulder.”

Wow. That was possibly the worst lie I’ve ever told. Even I’m embarrassed by how lame it was. But what’s more amazing is that she buys it. No questions asked. Or at least she does until my office door knocks.

“Come on in,” I call, covering my hand over the mouth piece. I’m sure it’s Libby just wanting to tell me about the midwife appointment she’s booked. But when the door swings open and reveals my little sister, whose eyes are practically molten coloured, I know I’m in the shit.

“Do you have someone home with you?” My mother sounds instantly surprised. “You didn’t say anybody was in your flat.”

Alice points at me as she steps into my office. “You—You have a lot of explaining to do. For starters, why the fuck is
she
over here?”

Shit.

“Mum, I’m gonna have to call you back—”

“Oh, don’t bother ... I’ll be sure to tell her what’s going on and that you’ve shacked up with that little tramp again,” she spits, her tone laced with disgust.

“Is that Alice I can hear?”

My jaw clenches. “Yes. Although, I’m not sure how she got in. I didn’t hear the door buzz, and I thought I’d asked her to put the spare fob back the other day.”

Alice lifts up her keys which still have the fob attached. “I forgot to take it off.”

I raise an eyebrow. “How convenient, hey?”

“Don’t change the subject. Why is she round here? And how come she looks so bloody comfy too. How long has this been going on?”

“It’s none of your business,” I counter.

“Darling, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing mum. Alice is just being a bit of a brat.”

“A brat?” she practically snarls. “Why don’t you tell mum that you’re fucking Libby and she’s making herself at home in your flat? Although, I doubt she’ll be here for much longer, because she was packing a bag when I left her.”

My legs move of their own accord and I find myself tearing across my office and heading for my bedroom. But Libby isn’t there. Her gym bag has vanished off the side as have the trainers I took off her last night before we went to bed.

“Fucking hell, Alice. What the hell have you done?” I roar louder than I usually would at her. She flinches from the anger in my voice, but regains her composure just as quick.

“I did you a favour. You’ll thank me for it in the long run,” she says, sticking her hand on her hip and giving me a load of attitude I don’t need.

“Stay here,” I bark, rushing to the front door and pressing the call button for the lift. It’s on its way through the floors and I know that by the time I get in a lift and down there, Libby will have already disappeared.

So I do the only thing I can do, and I burst into the stairwell and take the steps as quick as I can, not giving a shit that I’m barefooted and only wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms. I’m still clutching my mobile and I hear my mother shouting at me as I quicken my pace. I probably should have hung up on her, but I’m so close to the bottom, I can’t afford even a second of wasted time.

“Libby!” Her name rips from my throat as I push open the stairwell door and burst into the main lobby. Jeffery is standing nearby and I catch his eye. He points outside to the nearby taxi rank where I see Libby getting into the back of a taxi. “Libby!” My feet carry me as quick as I can, but I don’t make it in time. The taxi speeds past and I’m left on the side of the pavement, watching as she leaves me yet again.