Page 14 of Conviction
They say you never forget your first, and I’m sure that’s probably true, but when your first becomes a singer and guitarist in one of the world’s biggest bands, whose is heard continuously on the radio, and whose gorgeous face is continuously plastered all over every magazine, and permanently on TV, it’s pretty much impossible.
For a few years, I fantasised that he would come back for me, hold me in his arms and tell me it's all been a big misunderstanding. But as the band’s popularity grew and I heard the rumours and saw the images of him with a different woman every week, I knew that any thoughts or feelings Conner had for me were long gone and forgotten.
I’d managed to ward off any more proposals from Marcus for three whole months after his original offer of marriage and then a few things happened at once. Marcus’s dad dropped dead on the golf course, and Marcus was put in charge of Newman and Associates law firm. Marcus, once again proposed marriage, but this time he’d told my brother what he was going to do and my brother informed me in no uncertain terms if I didn’t accept, he would be pulling his money out of my business, with immediate effect.
We were just, only just, starting to break even and there was absolutely no way I could afford to pay my brother back, but I also didn’t want to marry Marcus. He was a nice enough person, well off and successful and he was actually really good looking, in a very ‘lawerish’ kind of way, but I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with him. I told my brother that I would go to the bank and see if they would loan me the money. My brother promptly told me that if I didn’t say yes and accept Marcus’s proposal, then he would go to the papers and tell them everything about my relationship with Conner Reed, including what happened on that final night of the last millennium.
I didn’t know what kind of effect that would have on my business or on my mother’s career. She was now the local MP for our area and minister for something to do with things that went on overseas. I’ve never been sure of her exact title. But, I also didn’t know what kind of effect the news might have on Conner’s blossoming career. The press had already gone to town on the fact that he’d been to prison and that his mother had been murdered. Whatever our history was, I didn’t want his name splashed all over the papers for the wrong reasons again.
So, I accepted. I thought I might grow to love Marcus and we would be okay. I tried, I really did try. I’m still trying, but nights like tonight just leave me numb and lonely. They leave me sad and regretful of my choices. They leave me feeling nothing but anger toward my brother and the way he manipulated me, but most of all they leave me feeling empty.
I let my silent tears roll from my eyes, into my ears and around the back of my neck before I eventually curl up into the foetal position and drift off to sleep. Knowing that I have no one but myself to blame for the way my life has turned out. I should’ve been stronger, I should’ve stood up to my brother and not let him coerce me into my sham of a marriage, and as much as I wanted to do something about it, I knew that I wouldn’t. I would remain the dutiful wife, daughter and sister. I would remain a coward and accept my fate.
Iwake to a cold, empty space on my husband’s side of the bed. I wasn’t a particularly heavy sleeper, so it always amazed me how he was able to slip out of bed and get ready for golf without waking me.
I stare up at the white ceiling of my bedroom and let out a long breath while contemplating the day ahead. After spending so many years working Saturdays, Soph and I had decided that the business was doing well enough that we could now afford to take the weekends off. We would still go in if there were something big like a wedding happening, but other than that we stayed away from the salons on Saturdays.
Despite me now being home, Marcus had never diverted from his usual plans and still spent most of his weekends on the golf course. This left me to my own devices most Saturdays and quite often on a Sunday too. I didn’t mind. It didn’t matter if my husband was home or not, I felt lonely regardless.
I look across at the clock and am surprised to see it’s already after nine. I sit up and prop my back against the pillows and check my phone. Scrolling through my Facebook, Twitter and Instagram accounts, I check my personal and business emails. There’s nothing particularly exciting happening in my online world, so I climb out of bed and head to the kitchen, almost falling over my dog Duchess as I step out of my bedroom door.
“What are you doing up here, Duch?” I bend down and scratch behind her ears. I love my dog, but I don’t love my house smelling of dog, so the rule is that she’s only allowed as far as the kitchen. She’s outside most of the day so this isn’t a problem, but she sleeps in the kitchen/dining area at night so the doors are always kept shut to stop her from wandering all over the house. Marcus obviously forgot to close the doors behind him this morning.
Duchess looks up at me with her big brown eyes. She’s a super-intelligent dog, and I’m pretty sure she knows full well that she shouldn’t be up here.
“Come on then, let’s get you some breakfast.” She wags her tail as she follows me downstairs. I open the back doors to a bright sunny morning and fill her bowl with a couple of scoops of dry food. Shutting the door behind me, I head back to the kitchen and make a coffee.
After I’ve had my caffeine fix and a muesli bar, I throw on my workout gear and take Duchess with me for a brisk walk around the park. It’s after twelve once we get home. I shower, pull on a pair of shorts and a bikini top, pour myself a large glass of wine and lay out on a sun lounger in the garden. It’s late May and a beautiful, early summer’s day. I switch between reading a book on my Kindle, throwing the ball for Duchess to fetch and snoozing. Only getting up to top up my wine glass and to find a bag of crisps to munch on. I should really make myself something a little bit more substantial to eat, but I’m feeling lazy, and my liquid lunch has made me feel sleepy. I jump when my phone vibrates and chimes with a text message from Sophie.
Watchya doooooin????
I smile down at my phone as I read her message. Not that it’s funny, it’s just that it’s from Soph and I can’t help but smile when I think of her. She’s my best friend and business partner, and I love the bones of the girl. She was spending the day shopping with her mum today. She’d invited me to join them, but the idea of trawling around a shopping centre on my day off held absolutely no appeal to me, so I declined. Enjoying a day to myself in the sunshine instead.
Me:Well, I was enjoying a snooze in the sunshine, but some inconsiderate arsehole sent me a text and woke me up :( Why what you doooooin???
Sophie:Well, that sucks sweaty balls, you shoulda gave them a bollocking!
Me:Pointless, they’re too ignorant to care!
Sophie:Oh, harsh.
Me:Yeah, but totally necessary.
I await her further response but get nothing for a few minutes, so I close my eyes and nod back off to sleep. I almost take off, God only knows how much time later when my phone actually rings.
It’s Soph, but before I can complain about her waking me up again she asks, “Babe, do you have the telly on?”
I sit up on my lounger, goose bumps breaking out on my skin despite the late afternoon sun still beating down on me.
“No, I’m still in the garden, I’ve not even had my music on today.”
She doesn’t reply, and in those few beats of silence, my stomach rolls over and in on itself. I’ve absolutely no idea why, but my heart starts to pound in my chest so hard that I can feel my blood pumping strongly through the veins in my neck.
“Soph?” If my screen weren’t telling me that the call was still active, I would’ve thought she’d hung up.
“Babe, I’m on my way over. I’ll be there in literally five minutes. Just stay where you are. Stay in the garden.”
“Soph, you’re freaking me the fuck out. What’s wrong?” I get up and head inside, going straight into the lounge and switching on the television. It turns on tuned to the weather channel. Typical Marcus, checking to see the forecast, making sure his day of golf won’t be spoilt by rain.
