Page 101 of Cuts Like An Angel: Part 3

“Answer the door, William,” Mark said, his voice like a sing song.

“Fine.”

William unhooked the keys from the little display that was on the wall. Another of Rosie’s additions. That would have to go too. Anything that was Rosie or Maria was being boxed and not going to wherever he moved. The past was damn well staying there.

“What?” William said, when he opened the door.

Mark was standing there, in trousers and a shirt like he’d been at work. “Let me in,” Mark said. It was cold, icy even. The windscreen of William’s car was iced over. Not that it mattered, he couldn’t drive anyway at the moment. Not with his leg and arm still out of action. “Did you open Rosie’s letter?” Mark said, when he came in. He took off his gloves, but not his scarf. When William didn’t really answer, Mark narrowed his eyes at him. “You didn’t, did you?”

“There is nothing to say. What can she say? She’s married.”

“And you’re going to let that get in the way of you both?”

It was William’s turn to narrow his eyes, and then he shook his head and turned away. It was hard to storm into the kitchen with his leg cast up and needing to use a crutch, but he tried to do it as well as he could. Not that it made much of a difference. Mark followed him.

“I’m sorry,” William said, “I always thought when someone was married, it meant they were off limits to everyone else. Silly me.”

“You’re being a dick.”

“Wow,” William said, “Thanks.”

“Where’s the letter?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not reading it. There’s nothing--”

“Fine, but where is it? In the hall?” He’d obviously seen the pile of mail, and with William’s inability to move fast, Mark was in the hallway and back again with the stash of post in seconds. He pulled out Rosie’s letter. “You need to read this.”

“What for?”

“You need to read it before you make the worst mistake of your life. You know when we were growing up, I let you lie to me. I let you tell me everything was fine at home. And I accepted it. Even when you came into school with a face full of bruises, or when I knew you’d stolen my lunch, I never said a word to you. But this …” he shook his head. “I can’t just turn the other way this time. That woman loves you.”

“If she loved me, she—”

“Read the fucking letter.”

William went to say something back, but he knew enough from Mark’s tone that this would get ugly. Not that he was afraid of Mark, but some part inside William knew that Mark would never hurt him. Maybe he’d always known that when they were growing up and why he had stolen lunches from him. Part of William suspected that Mark’s mother had put in extra just so William could take them.

“I saw Rosie,” William said, “The night I crashed my bike. I drove past your office and she was there.”

The look of guilt flashed across Mark’s face and he ran his hand through his hair. “Ah shit. And that is why …”

“I ran a red light. I was looking back.”

“Did you tell Rosie this?”

William shook his head. He’d thought to question her about it. Thought to ask maybe when he got out of the hospital. He was too afraid, that was the truth of it. Too afraid that she and Mark were up to something. Not an affair. No. Rosie would never do that. But would she? Rosie was married.

“Do you know why Rosie was there?”

“I never asked.”

Mark shook his head at William and sighed, as if he was disappointed. “Peter is her husband, was. I mean, he still is, but he won’t be soon. It’s not a marriage of love, William. If that’s what you think. You two make me want to strangle the both of you. If you both talked …”

“If we both talked, maybe she’d have told me she was married, and I’d have not been played for the fool.”

“Maybe she would have told you she was married, but the only reason you’re a fool is because you’re so bloody stubborn, you’re about to lose it all. What happens when you take a scared young girl who’s just lost her baby? A baby that died, that was put there by the man who’d been pretending to love her, but quite frankly, it was …” he put his hands up. “Hell, I don’t even know what it was. She was a kid, he was a man, but she thought she was in love. Peter is the son of Trent. Trent is the dickhead who’d …”

“Taken advantage of Rosie.”

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