Page 70 of Forever Mr Black

Tara winds a long strand of hair around her finger and arches an eyebrow in disgust. “Well, apart from the fact that he doesn’t shut up talking about her, he sometimes says her name when he fucks me.”

I feel sick.

Art tenses and bunches his hand through his hair. He turns and paces over to the other side of the room. I don’t need to see his face to know he’s seething.

Tara studies his reaction and looks perplexed. “Sophie,” she mutters, remembering. “That’s the name he calls out.” She frowns in confusion. “That’s Pollyanna’s name, isn’t it? What the fuck’s going on?”

The game’s up.

I push open the cupboard doors and step into the room.

Tara looks at me, aghast. “What the fuck is she doing here?”

Art steps in between us. “I arranged to meet you tonight because I needed to get information from you, not for anything else, Tara. I’m sorry. I knew after how I left things with you, you wouldn’t agree to see me otherwise.”

Tara’s eyes dart from me to Art as the penny drops. “You two are still together, aren’t you?”

He looks at me. “Very much so.”

She jabs a finger at me. “You’re Sophie. You’re Theo’s ex.”

“Yes, I am.”

She glares at Art as reality hits her. “I don’t fucking believe this. You bastard.”

“I wouldn’t have done this if there were any other way. I’m sorry, but Theo’s suddenly turned up, and he’s causing trouble. He knows things about my past that only a handful of people know.”

“And you thought I’d told him.” Her eyes swing to me. “And you thought I was trying to stir up trouble.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” I snap, unable to help myself.

Tara rolls her eyes. “Well, sorry to disappoint, Art, but I don’t know anything about your bloody past other than the fact that you used to come here.”

And despite all of the trouble she’s caused, I believe her.

And so does Art. He jams his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and heaves a frustrated sigh, pacing across the room.

It’s over. Everything we thought we knew, we don’t. We were wrong. Tara’s not the one behind this.

But before we leave, there’s something I need to ask. “What’s Theo said about me?”

Tara tilts her head to the side, a thin smile creeping across her lips. She’s clearly enjoying the fact that she’s got the upper hand here. She has information I want. “If he didn’t buy all my drinks the nights we met up here, I wouldn’t bother with him. He’s a fucking bore, to be honest.”

After tonight, my patience is as brittle as a twig, and she’s stringing this out to wind me up. I know it.

“What’s he said?” I snap.

She purses her lips. “He just goes on and on about you and how good you were together.” Her eyes slide to Art, standing across the other side of the room with his back to us. She breaks into an evil smile. “He moans your name when he comes. ‘Oh, Sophie, Sophie,’” she mimics.

Art’s shoulders tense at her goading.

“How does it make you feel, Art?” she calls. “To know another guy’s thinking of Pollyanna as he gets his rocks off?”

He slowly turns round to face her, his jaw clenched. “How does it makeyoufeel? To know a guy’s thinking of another woman as he fucks you because you don’t do it for him?”

“Fuck you,” she spits.

I press a hand to my forehead. I’ve had enough. Of tonight and being here and this whole fucking situation.

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