Page 13 of Repluse

“Motherhood?” Frankie questions, his brows raised.

“Logan’s desperate for a baby. I can’t put him off anymore, so this is me, quite literally, going out with a bang before I do that for him. At least this way, if anything ever happens to Logan,everything except the business will go into trust for our kid, but there’s a monthly allowance from the trust set aside for me to raise him, her, them.”

“What happens if Scott dies before Logan, which is highly likely?” Frankie asks.

“Then everything goes to me and our kids, except the business. I don’t get any of that. Again, it’ll be held in trust for our kids.”

“What a weird fucking family,” Sam mumbles.

“Mate, you have no idea.” Frankie shakes his head.

“Like I said before, if I walk away, divorce him, I get nothing. So, I’ll stay, give him, the family, the future generation it desperately desires, and become a dutiful wife. That’ll also ensure my mum gets looked after for whatever time she has left.”

“Is that even legal? If you challenged him in court, could you getting nothing be overturned?” Frankie, still frowning, asks.

“I’ve no idea. Apparently the prenup is airtight, and I don’t have the funds to fight him, anyway.”

I’ve had the eight years we’ve been married to get my head around all of this, and I no longer have to fight with my own fists not to punch something every time I let myself think about it.

My gaze slides to Sam, who remains silent as his jaw continues to work at grinding his teeth down to nothing.

“Anyway, I’m gonna head off in a bit. I’ll spend a few hours with Mum, do some shopping—because no doubt he’ll check the bank account to see where I’ve been and what I’ve spent—then I’ll come back here later.

“Can I give you a lift anywhere?” Sam finally speaks.

“Could you drop me somewhere near Albert Park? It’s where our apartment is that he thinks I’m staying at.”

“Why there?” Frankie asks.

“It’s where I left my car. I didn’t want to take any chances so I parked in our reserved spot.”

“You think he tracks your car?” Frankie’s voice rises in disbelief.

“I have my suspicions and didn’t want to take a chance, so I left my car there yesterday, along with my phone. This is a spare I’ve had all my calls and messages diverted to for the weekend.” I hold up my ‘second’ phone. “If you drop me at our apartment, I’ll grab my phone, and get an Uber to my mum’s. The account’s in his name, so he’ll see where I’ve been.”

“Will he know you came here yesterday, then?” Frankie now sounds panicked.

“No. I had some cash that I used for a taxi. I didn’t even take a chance hailing it outside the building. I went out through the carpark instead of the main entrance and walked up the street for a bit.”

“I didn’t realise this was going to be so complicated for you, Mila.”

I shrug. “It is what it is. And why would you? You’ve no idea what my life with him is like. I’m the one who called this on, fully aware of what it would involve.”

“Makes it all the more important we make it worth her while,” Sam says with his customary wink. “I’m just gonna grab my runners, then I’ll be ready to go.” He heads out of the room, and my gaze follows him.

When I look back, Frankie’s studying me. “What?” I question.

“Nothing,” he replies with a headshake.

I know there’s something, but I don’t have time to push him further. I pull on my UGGs, grab my bag, and wait for Sam to come back.

After Sam drops me off,I grab my phone from my car, and get an Uber to drop me near Mum’s facility, calling into the nearby supermarket to buy her some toiletries—a few packs ofher favourite biscuits, and a couple of bars of chocolate—making sure to use my card to pay for everything.

I have some new nightshirts and underwear I bought for her with me, but I’ll pop out in about an hour and head to the nearest Kmart to buy her a few more bits, then tell Logan that she needed them when I get home. Hopefully, it will make me appear like the dutiful daughter and lay the foundation for my future excuses of needing to visit her more often.

Since the conversation I had with Frankie at my father-in-law’s party three months ago, I’ve stratagised with military precision how this will all work. I knew I had to have my stories and excuses airtight so as not to rouse my husband’s already overly suspicious mind.

The facility uses a facial recognition feature upon entry. I stand in front of the screen and swipe my driver’s licence. It matches the two images together while also taking my temperature to make sure I’m healthy, or at least not running hot. Although, after last night…

---