Page 58 of Falling for Nicole
“Did you have a good weekend?” he asks when he puts Lilly down.
“Yes, it was amazing. You?”
“Exhausting. Does your dog ever stop?”
“Every now and then,” I say with a laugh.
“Do you want to stay for lunch, Nic?”
“Nah, I’ll get off and leave you to it.”
“Okay, but if you need me, call me. I’ll go kick his arse the second you tell me to.”
“That won’t be necessary but thanks.”
“He didn’t do it, you know,” Lucas suddenly chips in, making our heads snap over to him. “What? He came round for a beer.”
Lilly’s mouth opens but no words come out for a few seconds as she processes what her husband just said. “Dec came here for a beer?”
“Yeah. Is that so weird?”
“It’s never happened before.”
“He obviously needed advice from a woman expert.” Lilly scoffs at his suggestion before he turns his attention to me. “Seriously, though, you need to talk to him.”
“He’s my boss. I’m going to have to talk to him at some point, unless I jack in my job.” I say it as a joke but I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind more than once this weekend. If I didn’t need the money, I probably would have already handed in my notice if it meant I wouldn’t have to see his cheating face again.
“Just talk to him,” Lilly adds, trying once again to fight for her brother.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll see you soon.”
I don’t remember the drive home; I’m too lost in my own thoughts, but somehow I end up inside my house and leaning back against the front door as Bailey sniffs around, re-familiarising himself with home. Other than sleeping, it’s the first time I’ve really been alone since everything went to shit with Dec, and my thoughts completely consume me. I fall down on to the floor as options run through my head. Mentioning jacking my job in has brought the thought to the forefront of my mind, but I can’t help thinking that’s a little dramatic. Just because he can’t keep it in his pants, it doesn’t mean I should be forced to leave a job that I love. Ugh, fucking Declan fucking Morrison. I’m sure his sole purpose is to torture me.
The rational part of me knows I should get in my car and go find him so we can talk, but my fear is getting the better of me. More than anything else right now, I’m afraid that I’ll forgive him and fall even harder for him, only for history to repeat itself and ending up even more hurt than I am right now.
Giving in to my need for him, I dig around in my bag for my phone and press my finger down on the button to turn it on.
It takes a few seconds but the screen is soon full of messages and voicemail alerts from Dec. My heart races as I look down at his name and wonder what he might have said, what his excuses are.
Curiosity soon gets the better of me and I swipe to open them.
There’s a huge chain full of words like,I haven’t done anything, you’ve got it wrongandlet me explain.The voicemails are more of the same, but listening to his voice affects me more than I was anticipating. The desperation I can hear makes my heart yearn to hear him out and forgive him. But it’s his final message that really cuts me open. He sent it after he must have left the hotel the other night.
I really thought this was going to be something, but if you can’t trust me then I see that I was wrong. Very wrong. It was fun while it lasted.
A sob erupts as I re-read it for the thousandth time. Have I got it wrong? Is what he’s saying true? Should I have given him the benefit of the doubt, listened to him before jumping to conclusions?But Georgia was so convincing,I tell myself once again.But she’s a bitch and wants what you have—had.
Fuck. I’m so confused.
Declan
I don’t think I’ve ever been as angry as when I walked away from the hotel that night. Not only did she not have the decency to hear me out, but she made me look like a twat in front of my family. There was no need to tell everyone I was a cheating bastard. I was there fighting for her; wasn’t that proof enough that I hadn’t done anything wrong?
None of what Mum could have said to me would have calmed me down as she ushered me from the room. “Just give her some time,” she said, “she’ll calm down and you can talk.” Bullshit. I’d done nothing wrong; why should I give her fucking time?
By the time Monday morning rolls around and BJ and Liam turn up for work after gallivanting all weekend, clearly still drunk, I’m on the verge of losing my shit.
“What the fuck?” I shout as they come stumbling into the shop an hour late. Thankfully the weather is still shit and we haven’t got any lessons booked in, but that’s not the point.
