Page 60 of Just a Number

I raise a hand to my head and rub at the pain that’s started radiating from there.Yes, I want more with Mel, but I don’t want to betray her confidence.

“Mel’s scared, Alex. And we know she needs to be shown a good time. If you’re interested in continuing to give her that good time, and side note, I’ve heard it’s a very good time indeed,” Cassidy waggles her brows with a smirk before continuing, “then please let us help.”

“What do you mean?” I ask with a sigh, realising that the way these two women are looking at me means I have no choice but to at least listen to their plan.

Chapter twenty-three

Mel

Igrimace as the front door slams. I’ve been working downstairs this afternoon, waiting for Zack to come home. He’s been avoiding me and it can’t go on. As awkward as this whole situation is, we need to find a way to clear the air and move on.

He strolls in, frowning when he sees me.

“Hey,” I start. He gives me a nod, walking to the fridge and pulling out the bottle of milk from the door. Like he’s goading me, he takes off the lid and chugs it straight from the bottle. I press my lips together, holding in the admonishment that desperately wants to slip out. That won’t help right now.I need to pick my battles.“How was college?” I ask calmly.

“Fine. I need to go and get some coursework done,” he replies as he puts the milk back.

“Zack, wait.” I hold my breath, praying he will listen. “We need to talk. Please.”

“What do you want to talk about?” It feels like a win when he at least turns to face me. I’ve been going over what to say in myhead for hours, but all of my rehearsed discussions escape me as I stare at my son, the sullen look on his face reminding me of his younger years.

“Will you come and sit down?” I gesture to the stool beside me and let out a gentle sigh of relief when he heads my way. “Thank you.” Once he’s sitting, I turn to face him head-on. He’s not making eye contact, and it somehow makes it easier to ask, “Why did you hit Alex?”

“He shouldn’t have slept with you. I thought he was my friend.” His voice is quiet, but it’s tinged with anger.

“I know you’re hurt.” He rolls his eyes. “… But I’m disappointed that you resorted to violence. You didn’t have to hit him.”

“And you didn’t need tosleep with him, Mum.” His gaze comes up to meet mine and there's frustration swirling there. “Why did you do it?”

I’m weirdly proud that he’s calling me out on it and not choosing to continue avoiding the awkwardness. It doesn’t make it any easier to answer his question though.

“I swear I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t purposely pick one of your friends to do this with. And I’m sorry that it hurt you. But I can’t take it back.”

“Is it serious?” he asks, sounding concerned.

“No, it’s just a fling.” The words fly out fast, but a twinge of doubt instantly follows.Is it?

“You couldn’t find a random stranger to have a fling with? Why did it have to be someone I know?”

“I don’t know how much to tell you.” I grimace, trying to find the words. “I can’t be with a stranger. That’s not who I am. But I am sorry it was someone that means something to you.”

“He means nothing to me.” He spits the words out with a ferocity that has me leaning back. “This has shown that he’s not my friend. A real friend wouldn’t do that.”

“So, how do we move on from here? I don’t want you to keep avoiding me. I’m still your mum.” I give him a tentative smile, trying to stem the tears that want to flow when it’s not reciprocated.

“Are you going to keep seeing him?”

“I don’t know.” It’s an honest answer.I have no fucking clue what the right thing to do is.I stop myself from offering to call it off. I’m not convinced that’s for the best.

“I spoke to Dad earlier.” The change in subject startles me, but his next words help it make sense, and break my heart at the same time. “I’m going to go and stay with him for a while. I need some space.”

“Oh.” Nothing can stop my tears from welling now.

“I don’t want to upset you, but I think it’s for the best. I don’t want to be around the two of you if you’re together.” I give a shaky nod, completely lost for words. “It’s probably not forever, and you’ve been telling me for ages that I should spend some quality time with Dad, right?”

There’s a comfort that comes with him trying to justify it—that he’s not storming out, shouting that he hates me—but the pain is bigger, filling more of the space inside me.

“When are you going?” I ask, swallowing hard to keep the sobs at bay.

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