Page 19 of Repluse

“I baked two, actually. I made them last night when I couldn’t sleep. I was just going to drop them off here, say a quick hello, then leave.”

I look from him down into my lap. “I didn’t see the point of drying my hair, putting on makeup or wearing anything uncomfortable just to sit in the car for three hours. I’m sorry,” I say quietly, making sure to add a tremble to my voice, just the way he likes it.

“I’ve told you a million and one times, Mila, no matter the circumstances, you step out of the house, you better fucking do it looking the absolute best version of yourself. You’re representing me and the entire Walsh family at all times. We’ll discuss this further once we get home.”

I nod. Ensuring my eyes are shining with my unshed tears, I look up and meet his still narrow-eyed gaze. “I’m sorry,” I whisper before turning and smiling at my mum.

“Hey, Mum. How you doing this morning? I can’t stay long, but I made you your favourite sponge cake and thought I’d drop it off.”

She’s leaning to one side in her wheelchair, her hair still in the single French braid I put it in for her yesterday. Taking the tissue she has clasped in her hand, I use it to wipe the saliva escaping the side of her mouth.

“Jesus, that’s disgusting,” Logan hisses from beside me. My jaw clenches so tightly, I worry I might crack a tooth.

Mum’s eyes look up at me and she smiles. I search for a spark of recognition like the one I saw there yesterday, but there’s none. “Nurse,” I think is what she tries to say.

“No, Mum.” My nose tingles, and real tears burn at my eyes. “It’s me, Mila. I came to see you yesterday, remember? You said my name. I’m your daughter. Your youngest daughter.”

I get nothing. I put her tissue back into her hand, and her eyes return to her lap.

“I don’t know why you bother. There’s nothing in there.”

I remain silent.

“Right, I’m off. I’ll see you at home.” Logan stands beside me. I turn to meet his gaze, only to find it on the arse of the young care worker who’s bending over and doing something to the shoe of another resident.

“See you there. Drive carefully,” I tell him. When he finally turns his attention back to me, I raise my brows to let him know I’m aware he was caught checking out another woman’s arse.

He shrugs and gives a lopsided smirk, which would be cute if I didn’t know what a monster this man who comes from a long line of monsters is.

“Yeah, you too. Don’t stay too long. We have things to discuss,” he says while pointedly looking me up and down.

CHAPTER 6

Mila

My jaw is so tense on my drive home, I give myself a headache.

I’ve never known my husband to visit my mother. He’s never done it before as far as I’m aware, and I can’t help but be suspicious as to why he’s chosen to do itthisweekend.

I’ve lived under the scrutinous gaze of Logan and his family for our entire marriage, and until now, I’ve never put a foot wrong. So, I find it hard to believe it’s just a coincidence that this just happens to be the weekend he chose to randomly turn up at my mother’s facility. Is he suspicious—it would be nothing new. He questions my movements and the reason I’m making them every single day—ordoes he know exactly where I’ve been, with whom, and I’ve been caught?

Will he throw me out, I wonder? Tonight? Or will he let me stay until daylight?

Panicking, I pull over onto the hard shoulder, pull the bank card belonging to my secret account from where I keep it hidden inside a packet of hand sanitising wipes I carry in my bag, and I slide it into my UGGs. If I’m caught and he’s only going toallow me to leave with the clothes on my back like he’s always threatened to, at least I’ll have that.

Pulling back out onto the Hume Highway, I check my rear-view mirror, as it wouldn’t shock me to see him following me, but I can’t really determine the make of any of the cars behind me in the dimming light.

An hour and a half later,I pull off the highway at the Yirabang exit and turn onto the long, unlit country road that leads to our property. Five minutes later, I put the plan I’ve hatched on my long drive home into action. Swerving off the road, I brace as my car hurtles through the bush. Slamming on my brakes, I only avoid hitting the tree in front of me because I don’t want my airbags to deploy and cause any actual injuries. I come to a stop with the front of my Cruiser in the storm water channel that runs parallel with the road.

If Logan knows where I’ve been this weekend, even me driving off the road to avoid a roo won’t prevent a confrontation, but at least if I call him in a hysterical state, I’ll be able to gauge his mood without walking into the possible ambush waiting for me at home.

I sit for a minute, with the engine still running, and psych myself up for the call I need to make.

Using the controls on my steering wheel, I call my husband.

“Mila,” he answers on just the second ring.

I let out a sob before speaking. “I’m okay…”