Page 45 of Forever Mr Black

Aisling swings her hair over her shoulder, her eyes hardening. “You know nothing about my marriage. I know a lot more about your relationship.”

I frown. “You know nothing about—”

“Control is the centre of Art’s world,” she cuts me off. “He needs it, thrives on it because without it, he feels lost.” She gives me a thin smile. “Am I close?"

I roll my eyes. “He was in therapy with you for a year. I’d expect you to know him a little bit. Otherwise, you’d be extremely shit at your job.”

“Oh, I know him much more than a little bit. And then at Savage … well, we let our bodies do the talking.”

I hate this. I chug back a mouthful of champagne to stem the horrid feeling of nausea. “That was four years ago. He’s changed … “

She laughs, as if what I said were totally absurd. “A leopard never changes his spots, Sophie. I know Art. I know he’s not truly happy unless he’s in absolute control of everything in his world. When we were together, he was truly happy. BecauseI submitted to him without question, let him do whatever he pleased with me. My body was his. He owned me. And he loved it. He became alive.” She tilts her head slightly and thoughtfully slides her narrow gaze up my body. “Have you given yourself to him? I mean, fully? Do you really make him happy? Or have you made him change for you? Clipped his wings and made him conform?”

“I’m not discussing our relationship with you,” I snap.

“You don’t need to. I can see it in your eyes.” She idly runs her fingers through her hair and gazes around the garden. “It’s not healthy for people to pretend to be something they’re not. Eventually, the pretence eats you away. The façade slips. Like I said, Sophie, a leopard never changes his spots.”

I’m on the back foot, doubt creeping in. The idea that she’s seen a side of him that I haven’t, that he’s kept hidden from me, upsets me more than the idea of them sleeping together. Art told me the stuff he was into wasn’t that kinky. But has he held back with me? I hate the fact that she might be right. But I’ll never admit it to her.

I fix her a steely glare. “Or do you not like me because you want what I’ve got with him? You wanted to be with him; you wanted a relationship. But all you had was sex.”

“It was more than that,” she snaps, stepping towards me, clearly rattled.

It seems Aisling likes to dish stuff out but isn’t so good at taking it.

Before she has a chance to carry on, Art appears through the conifers. His gaze darts from me to Aisling and back again. “What’s going on?”

Aisling’s serene smile springs back into place as she walks up to him. “Sophie and I were just having a chat.”

He looks at me for reassurance. I look away, draining my glass.

“Thanks for agreeing to come with me. I’ll be in touch.”

“It’s fine,” he says.

What the fuck are they talking about?

She stands on her tiptoes, plants a kiss on his cheek, and then looks back over her shoulder at me, narrowing her eyes. I know she’s doing this to wind me up. And it’s working. I purposefully look out into the garden and listen to the sound of her heelsretreating across the paving stones. She’s gone. But it’s not over. I’m wound tight like a spring. Feeling like I’m about to snap.

“Are you okay?”

“What was she talking about? Where are you going with her?”

A faint crease appears on his brow. “She’s buying a new car, and she doesn’t have the faintest idea about them.”

“Why is that your problem?”

“She asked me to go with her to help her decide. That’s what we were talking about earlier.”

“Why you?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I’m a guy, and I know a bit about cars, I suppose.”

“Can’t she ask any of the other guys she’s had affairs with?”

Art jams his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The line on his forehead deepening. His patience is wearing out. So is mine.

“We’re friends, Sophie. Nothing more.”

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