“He’s lying. He’s been seeing her for over a year.”
My jaw drops. “How do you know?”
“Kingi, a woman always knows. The secret calls, the texts, the sneaking around, her perfume on his clothes, receipts in his pockets… He’s not as careful as he thinks he is.”
I’m genuinely shocked. Fuck, I’m naïve. I completely trusted him when he said he wasn’t cheating.
I sit back, not sure what to make of that information. I feel hurt and betrayed too, which is ridiculous when I’m not the one he’s cheating on, but I can’t help it. To deny it to my face… and to cheat on my mother… Anger rises inside me.
She notices, and her expression flickers with guilt. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Of course you should.”
“No, he’s your father, and you’re only getting one side of the story. Don’t do anything silly.”
She knows what I’m like. I take a deep breath and blow it out again. “What do you want?” I ask, leaning forward, my elbows on my knees.
She looks around. “I don’t know. I love this house. I’m comfortable here. And he’s the one who’s cheated. I think he should leave. But he refused. He said if I want a divorce, I need to be the one to leave.”
What a fucking mess.
“I’ll talk to him,” I tell her.
“No, Kingi…”
“I’ll talk to him,” I repeat firmly. “You’re right—he should be the one to leave. He’s worried about the business, but this is the twenty-first century, and it’s not going to crumble just because he gets a divorce. You deserve the chance to find happiness again.” A tear runs down her cheek. “Ah, Mama, don’t cry, that kills me.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, but she can’t help it, and she starts crying for real.
I pull her into my arms, feeling as if someone’s slid a knife into my ribs. There’s nothing worse than seeing your mother cry, especially when it’s your father who’s made her do it.
I will talk to him, and I’ll make him be the man and sort this out.
Fuck. Relationships are so complicated. While my mother sobs in my arms, I think about how relieved I am that I seem to have come to some agreement with Sabrina.
And then finally I think about Chessie, and how easy it is to be with her. She’s so calm. So kind. So down-to-earth.
When Dad first told me about the possibility of them getting a divorce, it felt like a symbol of my own determination not to settle down with one person. But oddly, right now, I wish Chessie was at my side. I feel that if she was here, we’d feel like a team. We’d support each other. And it’s a nice feeling.
I lift my face to the breeze from the Pacific, and close my eyes.
Chapter Eighteen
Chessie
It’s nearly one-thirty, and I decide I’ve done enough work for the day. I lock everything in the shed and head back to Dennis, then drive home. Lisa is out, and Ria’s bedroom is still empty, so I have the house to myself. I should have some lunch… but I’m not that hungry, so I spend a couple of hours doing some chores, including my laundry and some general cleaning and tidying.
As I move some books from the living room back to my bedroom, I spot a bag by the side of my armchair and remember that I bought some new coloring books for Thea a few days ago. I was saving them for when I next see her again. On impulse I decide to call in at Mark and Nina’s place. I have time before Kingi picks me up at seven. That way I can give Thea the books and also check up on them all and make sure they’re doing okay.
When I paid off Mark’s debt, I made it very clear to him that this was going to be the last time I would do it. I told him I wasn’t trying to be cruel, but I’d been under a lot of pressure lately, and if I carried on I was going to make myself ill over it. Deep down, however, I’m nervous that it made no difference, and at some point I’m going to discover that he’s been gambling again. I talked to both him and Nina about him getting therapy for his addiction, but when it comes down to it, he has to be the driving force behind his recovery, and although he’s close, I don’t know whether he’s hit rock bottom yet.
So my heart is already racing a little when I turn onto his road… and it doesn’t improve when I see an ambulance in front of his house.
Heart hammering, I park Dennis, cursing as I hit the curb, turn off the engine, and get out. Please don’t let it be Thea… oh God…
I cross the road, only then realizing that my parents’ car is parked just down from mine, and run up the garden path to the front door. It’s open, and as I go into the hall I can hear voices to the left, in the master bedroom.
“Chessie?”