“I think I’m going to like your friend. She sounds cool.” He winks with his uninjured eye and it makes me chuckle, despite the shitshow that we’re in. “And I definitely want to spend more time with you. I wanna take you out, get to know you. And I’m pretty sure sex would make me feel a helluva lot better right now.”

  “I’m not having sex with you with a black eye.”

  “Why not?” he asks, amusement making his eyes twinkle.

  “I dunno. It just came out. I don’t think we should have sex now though. Can you imagine if Zack came home early and caught us at it? No, thank you.” A full body shiver rolls over me. “I think I need more time to decide what to do. I need to talk to Zack again, and I think you should stay out of the way until I can.”

  “Fair enough,” he says, albeit begrudgingly. “But I think Cassidy’s right. We should see where this goes.”

  “Did you hit him back?”

  “What? No, of course not. I was the one in the wrong. I deserved it.”

  “So we shouldn’t keep seeing each other, then?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he growls.

  “Look, we’re not getting anywhere here. I need some space. Are you going to be okay? Can you work with that?” I gesture to his blackened eye.

  He grimaces. “I’ll need to check with Abby and Tom. I might be able to help in the kitchen if they don’t want me at the bar. I’ll be fine at the pottery workshop. In fact, I need to head there shortly.”

  “Okay, don’t let me hold you up then. Just give me a chance to figure this all out and I’ll be in touch, okay?”

  “Sure.” He rises from his seat, emptying the ice into the sink and draping the tea towel over the towel rail before he walks towards me. “How ‘bout a little kiss to make it better?”

  I scowl but have to admit it’s appealing. I go to peck him on the cheek, but he turns at the last minute and our lips touch. His hand comes out and grips the back of my head, and he kisses me passionately.

  Chapter twenty-two

  Alex

  Ican’t resist kissing Mel. She looks so worried about everything that I want to take her mind off it. I grasp the back of her neck and kiss her until her body relaxes a little. That’s better. I pull away, planting a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose, and she gives me a small smile.

  “That was cheeky,” she tells me.

  “You fucking love it.”

  A big sigh. “Yeah, dammit, I do. What are you doing to me, Alex?”

  “Not what I want to be doing to you right now, but maybe later?” I raise my eyebrows in question and she slaps a hand against my chest with a tut.

  “You need to go. I promise I’ll figure it all out and let you know when I do.”

  “Okay, but don’t overthink it. He knows now. I think your friend is right… don’t let it stop you from having a good time, Mel. And ideally, I want you to be having those good times with me.” And I don’t just mean sexually. I’m not sure if she’s ready to hear it, but I want to make a go of it. I want us to be a couple.

  She plants a kiss on my cheek, her original target last time, and then walks me over to the back door, opening it.

  “Take care with that eye. Let me know if you need more ice later.”

  “Will do. Thanks, Mel.”

  When I’m back at my place, I gather up my gear for the pottery followed by a shift at the pub as I won’t have time to come back in between. Before I leave, I shoot a quick text to Abby:

  Me:

  Hey, do you think Tom will be okay with me working behind the bar with a black eye?

  I don’t expect a quick reply, so it’s a shock when it starts ringing within a moment of the text being delivered. I press the answer button and bring the phone up to my ear.

  “What the hell happened?” Abby shrieks. I pull the phone away, wincing at the loudness.

  “I’m okay, just not sure if it’s the look Tom’s going for with his staff?”

  “Alex. Spill the beans. Right this second.”

  “Okay, okay, a family member of a woman I’m seeing took offence to us being together.”

  “What? Mel’s ex-husband hit you?”

  “What? No, Zack, her son. How do you know it’s Mel?”

  “Oh, honey, I knew weeks ago. Why did he hit you?”

  “Because he thought I was taking advantage of her and I broke the bro code. I’m not supposed to sleep with exes or family members of friends.”

  “For fuck’s sake, you guys are pathetic.” Her tone is disdainful.

  “I thought I could do some work out the back or help in the kitchen if need be tonight?” I suggest.

  “Yeah, you might have to. I’ll talk to Tom and see what he thinks. It might depend on how bad it looks.”

  “Fair enough. I just, uh, could really use the money.” I decide to be honest with her in the hope she’ll be able to convince the boss.

  “Okay, if he’s not keen on you at the bar, I’ll come up with some heinous cleaning jobs for you to do behind the scenes. The cellar has needed a clear out for ages,” she tells me teasingly.

  “Hey, if it means I get paid, I’ll do it.”

  “Noted. Alright, I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  “See ya, Abby.”

  The pub is fairly quiet, thank goodness, because Tom took one look at my swollen, black eye and shook his head in disgust.

  “Can I tidy the cellar or do some work behind the scenes instead of at the bar?” I ask him.

  “Yeah, Abs made a list. Prepare yourself. It’s all the stuff no-one else wants to do. What happened to you, anyway?”

  “Did Abby not say?”

  He shakes his head, watching me closely.

  “I’ve been seeing a woman and her son found out. He’s a friend of mine and wasn’t exactly happy about it. He thought I’d taken advantage of her.”

  Tom gives a sage nod and I sense much less judgement from him about this violent turn of events than I did from Abby on the phone earlier. “Okay, well, no fighting at work. And have a go at the list Abby’s done for you. If we get desperately busy, I might pull you up, but I’d rather the punters didn’t think we have a fighter on staff.” He grimaces.

  “Thank you. And I’ll, uh, try to not let it happen again.”

  He claps me on the shoulder. “Go find Abby and her list of torture. If your eye starts throbbing, come and find me. I might have some salve that will help in the first aid kit.”

  “Thanks.”

  I get the list from Abby. I’m amused to see it’s an actual written list, with little tick boxes she’s drawn next to every item.

  I’m in the process of moving barrels in the cellar when I hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

  “Hello?” calls a female voice. I duck out from behind the pillar, which is obscuring me.

  “Hi, this is staff only down here,” I reply to the woman I recognise but can’t quite place.

  “Oh, I know. Abby sent me down. I’m Cassidy.”

  “Hi, how can I help you?”

  “Ahh, perhaps I should explain the connection. I’m a friend of Mel’s and I’m also banging your boss.”

  I choke at that last comment. Perhaps it’s all the dust I’ve been moving around. “Tom?”

  “Yeah.” She gets a dreamy smile on her face, as if she’s imagining banging him right then and there. Jeezus. “Anyway, Abby said I could come down and say hi.” She steps all the way down the stairs and I take a couple of steps closer. Cassidy gasps as she gets a glimpse of my eye. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. Tom didn’t want me scaring the customers, so Abby’s got me on spring cleaning duty.”

  “Ah, that explains why they’re keeping such a pretty face tucked away in the cellar.” She chuckles. “I’ve been in your corner through all of this, Alex. I hope I’ve not inadvertently been suggesting my best friend gets together with a violent man.”

  “This is a one-off, I can promise you.” I gesture to my eye.

  “Did the other guy come off worse, at least?”

  “I didn’t touch him. It was Zack.”

  “Oh shit. This is after he found out about you both?” She winces.

  “Yeah, he wasn’t too pleased.”

  “This isn’t good. She’s already too wary of this whole thing.” Cassidy seems to be thinking hard, looking up to a corner of the ceiling. “We’re going to have to make a plan.”

  “Who is?” I ask, confused.

  “You and me, Alex. And maybe Abby too. You like her, right?”

  “Abby?” I shake my head with confusion.

  “No, silly. Mel.”

  “Oh, yeah, I like her.”

  “You wanna keep shagging her seven ways to Sunday, right? And I’m pretty sure, by now, you must have realised what a catch she is and want to do more than just shag her?”

  “Um, this seems like a really personal conversation and I don’t know you.” I run a hand down my face, trying to work out what the fuck is happening.

  “Oh, come on, Alex, I can assure you, she’s got Mel’s best interests at heart.” Abby appears on the stairs.

  “How long have you been there?” I ask, trying to work out how I didn’t hear her.

  “Not long. I came to see if Cassidy was having much luck convincing you to make a go of it with Mel.”

  “Ladies, look, I appreciate you’re concerned for your friend, but I don’t think I should be discussing this with you. It’s not fair on Mel.”

  “Oh my god, he’s fucking adorable,” Cassidy wails.

  “I know, right? And perfect for Mel. She needs a guy that can worship her and knows how to treat her right.”

  I raise a hand to my head and rub at the pain that’s started radiating from there. Yes, I want more with Mel, but I don’t want to betray her confidence.

  “Mel’s scared, Alex. And we know she needs to be shown a good time. If you’re interested in continuing to give her that good time, and side note, I’ve heard it’s a very good time indeed,” Cassidy waggles her brows with a smirk before continuing, “then please let us help.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask with a sigh, realising that the way these two women are looking at me means I have no choice but to at least listen to their plan.

  Chapter twenty-three

  Mel

  Igrimace as the front door slams. I’ve been working downstairs this afternoon, waiting for Zack to come home. He’s been avoiding me and it can’t go on. As awkward as this whole situation is, we need to find a way to clear the air and move on.

  He strolls in, frowning when he sees me.

  “Hey,” I start. He gives me a nod, walking to the fridge and pulling out the bottle of milk from the door. Like he’s goading me, he takes off the lid and chugs it straight from the bottle. I press my lips together, holding in the admonishment that desperately wants to slip out. That won’t help right now. I need to pick my battles. “How was college?” I ask calmly.

  “Fine. I need to go and get some coursework done,” he replies as he puts the milk back.

  “Zack, wait.” I hold my breath, praying he will listen. “We need to talk. Please.”

  “What do you want to talk about?” It feels like a win when he at least turns to face me. I’ve been going over what to say in my head for hours, but all of my rehearsed discussions escape me as I stare at my son, the sullen look on his face reminding me of his younger years.

  “Will you come and sit down?” I gesture to the stool beside me and let out a gentle sigh of relief when he heads my way. “Thank you.” Once he’s sitting, I turn to face him head-on. He’s not making eye contact, and it somehow makes it easier to ask, “Why did you hit Alex?”

  “He shouldn’t have slept with you. I thought he was my friend.” His voice is quiet, but it’s tinged with anger.

  “I know you’re hurt.” He rolls his eyes. “… But I’m disappointed that you resorted to violence. You didn’t have to hit him.”

  “And you didn’t need to sleep with him, Mum.” His gaze comes up to meet mine and there's frustration swirling there. “Why did you do it?”

  I’m weirdly proud that he’s calling me out on it and not choosing to continue avoiding the awkwardness. It doesn’t make it any easier to answer his question though.

  “I swear I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t purposely pick one of your friends to do this with. And I’m sorry that it hurt you. But I can’t take it back.”

  “Is it serious?” he asks, sounding concerned.

  “No, it’s just a fling.” The words fly out fast, but a twinge of doubt instantly follows. Is it?

  “You couldn’t find a random stranger to have a fling with? Why did it have to be someone I know?”

  “I don’t know how much to tell you.” I grimace, trying to find the words. “I can’t be with a stranger. That’s not who I am. But I am sorry it was someone that means something to you.”

  “He means nothing to me.” He spits the words out with a ferocity that has me leaning back. “This has shown that he’s not my friend. A real friend wouldn’t do that.”

  “So, how do we move on from here? I don’t want you to keep avoiding me. I’m still your mum.” I give him a tentative smile, trying to stem the tears that want to flow when it’s not reciprocated.

  “Are you going to keep seeing him?”

  “I don’t know.” It’s an honest answer. I have no fucking clue what the right thing to do is. I stop myself from offering to call it off. I’m not convinced that’s for the best.

  “I spoke to Dad earlier.” The change in subject startles me, but his next words help it make sense, and break my heart at the same time. “I’m going to go and stay with him for a while. I need some space.”

  “Oh.” Nothing can stop my tears from welling now.

  “I don’t want to upset you, but I think it’s for the best. I don’t want to be around the two of you if you’re together.” I give a shaky nod, completely lost for words. “It’s probably not forever, and you’ve been telling me for ages that I should spend some quality time with Dad, right?”

  There’s a comfort that comes with him trying to justify it—that he’s not storming out, shouting that he hates me—but the pain is bigger, filling more of the space inside me.

  “When are you going?” I ask, swallowing hard to keep the sobs at bay.

  “Tomorrow. I’ve got a half day. Dad’s going to pick me up.”

  There’s a big meeting at work today which requires my physical presence. I get up and dress in my favourite dove-grey trouser suit and a baby pink silk blouse. I gather my laptop and briefcase from the office on my way downstairs and head to the kitchen to make coffee.

  Zack retreated to his room last night after his bombshell. I didn’t even see him for dinner. In the end, I’d retreated to my bedroom too, choosing to read an old favourite book to try to take my mind off everything. But as soon as I’d put the book down to sleep, the tears came.

  It’s been a while since I cried myself to sleep. Not since the rocky days of my divorce have I sobbed into my pillow. I don’t feel any better for it, but I am grateful for the wonders of a good skincare routine and some make-up to mask my restless night.

  As I prepare my breakfast, my gaze is drawn out of the window to the space above the garage. Alex’s space. Should I tell him about Zack leaving? I could really use some comfort, but I’m not sure that’s what we’ve got right now. As I said to Zack, it’s just a fling, isn’t it?

  I’ll tell him, but there’s no point waking him early when he probably had a late night working at the bar. I don’t want him to feel bad about it. It’s me that put myself in this situation and now I just need to figure out what I’m going to do next.

  There’s a stillness when I let myself in later. It’s often the case that I’m home alone, but this is different.

  My nest is empty.

  I drop my bag at the bottom of the stairs, sitting to remove my heels. I stay there, listening to the silence.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  I’ve driven my son away.

  The sobs start slow and build until it’s hard to breathe.

  Was it really worth it just for a fling?

  But then the guilt washes over me. I can’t reduce this thing with Alex to just a few orgasms. He’s been like a breath of fresh air. I was lost before he came along, bumbling my way through life after my divorce. Yes, it’s been about sex and passion. But I’m a changed woman from knowing him. He’s shown me that I don’t need to just carry on living to please everyone else. That I can find my own joy. And I think that’s why, when Zack asked, I couldn’t say I was going to end it.

  I’ve spent my whole damn life doing what was expected of me: getting married, having a child, building a career, and doing it all with a polite smile plastered on my face. Well, fuck that. I can’t keep trying to live up to some arbitrary societal expectations, not if it makes me unhappy.

  Maybe this thing with Alex is just a fling. Perhaps it won’t go anywhere, but I can still treat it like a big reset button on my life. I can move forward from here looking for the things that bring me joy. And I know some of those things will be the very opposite of what the world expects from a forty-year-old divorcee.

  I can only hope that Zack will come around and won’t hate me for my choices.

  My sobs gradually slow and I swipe the back of my hand across my cheeks. I need a tissue. As I rise to find one, the doorbell rings. I can’t answer it looking like this. I’m a disaster. I tiptoe over to peep through the spyhole.

  “Mel?” comes Alex’s shout. “I know you’re there. I saw you pull up.” I draw in a still shaky breath and close my eyes for a second. I can’t ignore him. I grab the door handle and open it slightly, peering through the small crack. The daylight is bright against my swollen eyes and I wince. “Hey, what’s wrong?” His voice is soft and the concern clouding his eyes brings a fresh wave of tears. Have I not already cried enough?