Page 216 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

I cradled the phone against my ear, fighting the primal urge to tell him everything, instead I allowed my concern centre stage. “You sound tired.”

Matt let out a huff of air. “I am.”

“Are things bad at your company? The terrible state of the oil economy is constantly in the news.”

“It is bad.” he agreed with a sigh. “But we’re managing just about. Thank God we diversified into other revenue generating fields years ago.”

“You sound really tired.” I repeated softly. “Are you eating? Resting?”

“Let’s meet up, anywhere you want, choose a time and I’ll be there.” he persisted. Always so determined. “I would really appreciate the opportunity to apologize in person. I’m begging here and you know I despise begging. Please, Madi, I’d like us to talk, face to face.”

“It’s not a good idea,” I hedged, fiddling with the edge of my desk and almost snapping a fingernail. “I’ve got so much going on and, look, I told you last week, it’s all water under the bridge. None of it matters anymore-”

“It bloody well matters to me,” he grated out. “And I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. Trust me, it’s been the only thing on my mindsince I discovered – God! This is such a cock up. I’ve treated you abhorrently and it was all undeserved.”

Yes, it was undeserved. Last week when he first contacted me, his greeting was a terse ‘we need to talk’. It had caused no end of fright for me. ‘We need to talk’ was never a good way to start a conversation and I thought he’d somehow found out the world’s population would soon be up by two due to his irresistible stubble. The stubble deserved some blame for my predicament no doubt. Where was I? Yes, my ex-husband had finally embraced the light. Matt now believed I was innocent of any infidelity, and he had been in a murderous frame of mind.

It transpired the golden-haired Louisa Gilliford, with the help of a male friend, had engineered the whole situation. The deranged psycho had taken advantage of me. I didn’t understand it at first. Then Matt reminded me of his trip to Egypt the previous year and a party I attended at Bella’s parents’ estate. I remembered the party because I had been sick as a dog and Bella had kindly dosed me up to the eyeballs on medicine before having the staff settle me down in one of the many guest rooms. Deranged psycho had been at the party too. She had conspired with some sleazy friend to take some pictures of me in a compromising position, knowing I was out cold and unable to defend myself.

The rage I felt when Matt explained what she’d done could only be matched by his, and his clear planning of how he intended to oversee her demise did sound fool-proof. How could anyone be quite thatevil? Matt had assured me nothing else had been done to me. His staunch words had calmed my anxiety over the thought of some strange man somehow assaulting me in an unconscious state. He had spoken to the culprit and gotten a confession. I doubted Matt used actually words when interrogating the man, but he wouldn’t admit it. Implied yes, but never verbally admitted. I hadn’t even been naked, just artfully arranged to look so under the covers. Matt assured me the man had been dealt with. I didn’t know if that meant Matt had destroyed him financially, or whether the dude was incarcerated, or whether he was dead. Frankly I didn’t care which, I had initially hoped for death as long as Matt didn’t end up in jail. I couldn’t see Louisa’s friend doing jail time. What would be the charges? Being a slimy dick? Unless Matt had him arrested on false charges? Tax evasion, maybe?

And Louisa. I wanted to peel the skin from Louisa’s flesh then roast her alive…evil, manipulative cow. But I reminded myself karma was real and dwelling on the past would get me nowhere. It had taken much more for Matt to calm down, as I said earlier, he was distraught and furious. There had been a moment during that conversation, the perfect moment to tell him the truth; I had let the moment pass.

“I said I’ve forgiven you,” I wanted the call to end.

The guilt was eating away at me and the fluttering in my tummy didn’t help. The only reason he’d been the recipient of my begrudging absolution was down to fear. There was now nothing hindering me from telling him the truth. He believed me and wanted to make amends. All I had to do was say:‘I’m pregnant with yourbabies’and the weight on my shoulders would be lifted. I couldn’t. I was too afraid, not of his possible anger or perhaps his doubts that the babies were truly his; we’d been separated for months and he probably thought anything could have happened during those months. I was afraid if I told him the truth we would end back up together. I knew he regretted everything that happened. I knew he blamed himself, his jealousy, his ridiculous pride. I knew if I told him the truth, well, I didn’t.

I maintained the lie because I could never wholly trust him again. What if we got back together and something else happened? Would he throw me away without blinking again? I couldn’t risk another dose of such heartache. As a child I had lost my whole world when my parents died. As an adult I had made Matt my world, and I had lost him too. I was done being stupid, I needed to be my own world, not just for me but forthem.Was it unfair to rob them of the chance to know their father? Maybe. I could only make the decision I believed was right. It was my job to protect them, even against the same person who helped create them. Matt may have loved me, perhaps a small part of him still did, but it wasn’t enough. It had never been enough. I hadn’t been enough for him and he hadn’t trusted me. Trust was everything and both of us had failed that test. We weren’t meant for each other, we weren’t good for each other.

“I’m pressuring you,” Matt murmured apologetically. “I’m sorry. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

“I don’t want to meet up, Matt. It’s too raw, too messy-”

“Is it because you’re,” he paused to clear his throat. “CarryingPalmer’s child? Look, this whole situation, our divorce, everything…it’s my fault. I need to make things right.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Or as right as the circumstance will allow. I’m not going to hide the fact your relationship with Palmer is hard to swallow, but I divorced you,” He huffed with blatant aggression. “Although you got pregnant for himbeforeour divorce papers were filed. You always fancied him – forget what I just said. This is all my fault.”

There it was. Another perfect moment, simply waiting to be used.

“It wasn’t your fault. I mean, we’re both to blame,” I rushed to ease his guilt in the hope of soothing my own. “We – I never – I was really crap at communicating.”

Matt, surprised by my honest admission, released a genuine laugh. “So was I.”

“You were bossy, domineering,” I added. “And I gave in too easily.”

“I kept things from you,” he whispered. “Important things, and I didn’t put you first as I promised.”

My eyes were filling with tears. “I think my expectations on what marriage should be were wrong. I had this stupid vision in my head - I was scared, I was always scared I didn’t deserve you, that I didn’t deserve to be happy. I’m a terrible person.”

“No,” Matt was quick to shoot that down. “Don’t ever say that. You are, without doubt, the kindest person I have ever known.”

The door to my office opened and Dante sauntered in just as the tears rolled down my face. He froze, worry creeping into his features as he mouthed, “Who are you talking too?”

Matt continued to list my positive attributes. “You’re sweet and loyal, and-”

“They’re yours.” I blurted out then bit my tongue hard enough to draw blood.Fuck!I got sucked into the moment.

There was silence on his end for a few seconds before a very confused, “What? I’m sorry, what did you say?”

I hung up the phone, eyes wide and definitely about to piss myself. “Fuck!” The expletive perfectly summed up my life.

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