Page 99 of Cuts Like An Angel: Part 3

“There is nothing to listen to, okay?” He lifted the picture up. She’d dropped it on his bed. He waved it at her. “This says everything I need to know. You’re married. It’s that simple. You lied to me. You’re married to another man and now you’re expecting his child.”

Rosie put her hands to her face. She’d always vowed she’d never cry for a man again, but with William it was different. She’d let him in, she’d believed … God, had she believed in them, in this. That it could work. But it all fell down around her. She could almost hear everything crashing to the ground and there was nothing she could do. She let out a sob, let her tears fall. It was so hard to speak. Words and sobs and air all wanted to come out of her at the same time. “Please. Let me explain,” she sobbed to him.

“There is nothing to say.”

He rolled again, lowering his bed as he went. This time he faced the door so she couldn’t see him, but he lay perfectly still. She stayed where she was for a moment, putting herself beside the wall and letting the pounding in her head calm a little.

“What about your mother? She can’t be alone.”

“I spoke to Mark. He’s going to arrange for her to go somewhere she can be looked after.”

“She’ll hate that.”

“Yep. But it isn’t like you care.”

“William …”

“My mother is not your concern anymore. I want you to leave. Leave here. Leave the house. I want you to go home, pack your things. Give the key to Mark.”

He might as well have hit her with his words. They slammed right into her like they were real things, things that hurt and ran down her back with sharp claws. She stepped around him, though, so she could look at him. “You lied to me,” Rosie said.

William frowned.

“That night, when we went out with Mark. You lied to me then. I know you’ve been talking to someone else. And you have another phone.”

“Don’t try and make this about me, Rosie. If you want to find blame, go and look in the mirror. Go and pack. If you don’t leave, I’ll ask for security to remove you.”

“Please don’t do this.”

William glared at her, and the more he did it, the harder his expression became. “You did this. You did this when you forgot to tell me about your husband. When you made me look like a fool.”

“Willia--”

“I have nothing else to say to you.”

It was a struggle for him, but William turned in his bed. Turned so he was in the same position he’d been in when she’d arrived.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I never meant to hurt you.”

“Goodbye, Rosie.”

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