Page 17 of Conviction
I roll my eyes. Fucking golf! It bores me senseless. Bit like my husband, and if I’m being honest—which the wine tends to make me do—exactly like my marriage.
“It’s Marcus, telling me not to wait up.”
“How're things going between you two?”
Sophie’s aware that we’ve been trying for a baby and that things have been a little bit tense between us.
“They’re okay, mostly.”
“Mostly?” she asks with raised eyebrows. Sophie’s not a fan of Marcus, she thinks he’s too stuck up and full of himself. She’s probably right, he can be, but he’s not like itallthe time justmostof the time.
“He’s still refusing to go and have any tests done. Reckons that we need to give it another six months.”
“And are you happy with that?”
I shake my head. “No, I’ve made an appointment to see my doctor on Tuesday. I need to know if there’s a problem. Marcus is pretty convinced that if there is, it’ll be with me, so I just need to prepare myself. I need to know one way or another.”
“Neen, I’m sorry, but your husband can be such a prick sometimes. Who the fuck tells their wife that if they fail to conceive, then it’s probably their fault?” I open my mouth to speak, but she puts her hand out to stop me. “No, let me just say this. He should be supporting and reassuring you right now. He should be telling you that everything is gonna be fine and that it’ll all work out. Not disappearing every weekend to play fucking golf, and definitely not telling you that it’s your fault you’ve failed so far in getting knocked up.”
I smile at her. “I’m actually glad he’s at golf most weekends. It means I don’t have to deal with him,” I admit.
“If you feel like that, why the fuck are you trying for a baby with him? Why the fuck did you marry him in the first place for that matter?” I look at her for a few seconds, debating whether I should tell her the truth. Before I can answer, she surprises me by asking, “Do you love him, Neen? Can you see yourself raising a family and growing old with him?” My eyes meet hers for a long moment. “I’ve seen Nina Matthews in love. I remember how you used to look at Conner and I’ve seen the way you look at Marcus, and it don’t compare, babe.”
“Soph, I was fifteen and stupid.”
“No Nina, you were fifteen and in love. Now you’re thirty-one and most definitely not in love.” She drains her glass. “D’ya have more wine? Please tell me you have more wine?” I nod and go to get up. “Nah, you stay here, I’ll fetch it. Stay here and think about your answer. I’ve wondered for years why you married Marcus Newman. I was shocked that you ever even agreed to go out with him, let alone decided to marry him. I’m your best friend Neen, I’m sick of being bullshitted to. I want you to be honest with me.” She’s standing in front of me now with her hands on her hips. “Now, where’s the wine?”
“Fridge in the utility room.” I flick my wrist and point my finger in the general direction of where the wine can be found.
I look over at the television, the banner along the bottom is just repeating the facts that they know.“Body found in hotel room being shared by Conner Reed and Jet Harrison. Press conference to be held at three p.m. local time.”
It’s just gone six-thirty here. In less than two hours, I could quite possibly be facing the fact that the man I’ve thought about on a daily basis since I just turned fifteen might be dead. World famous rock star, Conner Reed, the boy I gave my virginity to, might actually be dead.
“So, come on. No bullshittingme.” Sophie passes the glass of wine she’s just poured me. We both curl our legs underneath us and sit in the corners of the sofa, facing each other.
“Neen, I know, I was there that day, but we’ve never really spoken about it over the years. I’ve always assumed it was just too painful for you, so I’ve left well alone.” She looks over my face, and I can see her eyes shine with unshed tears.
“Please be honest with me. I’m your bestie. We’re supposed to share shit, but I’ve always felt like I was missing something about that night… about you marrying Marcus. There’s some part of the story I don’t know about.”
I hear Duchess whine from outside the patio doors and turn to see her sitting there, her sad eyes watching us through the glass.
“I need to feed, Duch.”
“No you don’t.” Sophie stares at me, unwavering.
“Yeah, I do, and when I come back, I’ll tell you everything.”
I settle myself back downinto my corner of the sofa, wine in hand. I take a sip, despite the fact that I already feel quite pissed and know that I should really stop.
Sophie has turned the sound back up on the television, but it’s just going over the earlier reports and showing the room where the press conference will be held. I feel sick to my stomach. I know I shouldn’t, I’m a married woman, and it was all a very long time ago, but for me, Conner Reed was it. He was the one, but I rarely let myself admit that.
Soph mutes the telly and turns her gaze back to me.
“Are you still in love with Conner Reed?”
Well, I wasn’t expecting that. Despite the wine I’ve consumed, my mouth is unnaturally dry again, and I run my tongue over my teeth before I speak.
“That night, that New Year’s Eve, Conner and I were leaving.” She frowns and tilts her head to one side.
