please.” Her beautiful eyes sparkled, willing me to turn the pages. I flicked through, holding my breath as I found a note.
I was wrong. Really, really wrong.
I’m sorry, Jason.
I can handle the crappy tabloids, I can handle people talking, I can handle being the fat girl with the fit guy.
I’m sure I could even handle being a footballer’s wife.
I miss you. xx
My voice was choked. I had to cough to clear it. “You’ve nothing to apologise for.”
Tears in her beautiful eyes knocked my breath. “I made a mistake. I was scared.”
“You should have been scared,” I whispered. “It was horrible, Gemma, all of it. I’d never have put you through it if I’d have known.”
“It’s over,” she breathed. “We’re out the other side.”
But I wasn’t. I’d made an agreement with that bitch, April. Given her twelve months in exchange for a fifty-fifty split, just as long as we got another season out of the Singers, and so long as her Cherry Electric reunion tour happened. This shit could even kick-start a new album for her. How fucking sweet.
“I miss you,” I said. “I miss your laugh. I miss your smile.”
“I miss your touch,” she said. “I miss you, all of you. Everything we had. Everything we could have had.”
“What about domesticity? I thought that was a no go?”
She shot me a smile. “Never say never.”
But I had said never, I’d said never when I’d promised April another year. I was already booked in with PR, ready to get our shit sorted.
“Come to me,” she said. “Please. Tonight.”
It broke my fucking heart to say no. “I can’t. PR meeting.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I see. No problem, maybe a different night?”
I pressed my face as close to hers as I dared, scribbling any old shit in the notebook. “April wants twelve months, then she’ll split the house. I said yes. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Her expression dropped like a stone, eyes watery. “Of course, I understand. I’m sorry, I should’ve thought.”
My words were harsher than I’d intended. “You don’t understand. I’m a walking corpse, just trying to keep hold of something.”
“Keep hold of me.”
“I wish, Gemma, how I wish.” The crowd was dispersing, time up. “I’ve got to go.”
“Me, too. I have friends waiting.”
Words wouldn’t come out, lodged in my throat like fucking bullets. “This feels so wrong.”
“It’s ok, Jason. I get it, about the house. Steve told me about your dad. I get why you need to hang on to something. I get why you need to make it. I’m sure I would, too.” Her smile didn’t meet her eyes. “Twelve months? I bet you can’t wait.”
I was the last in the car park, unable to risk another bollocking. “I’m sorry, Gemma, I can’t stay.”
“Go,” she said, eyes glistening. “Don’t be a stranger, hey? Call me one day. Let me know you’re ok.”
I didn’t even have an answer for her, just a dull ache in my gut as I left my sweet girl behind.
It hurt like fucking sin.
***
Jason
Caroline Vaughan wasn’t one of those glossy-haired PR executives who float around and talk about charity opportunities. She was a fucking killer. I’d been forced into her company before, around the dogging scandal, and she’d handled the situation brilliantly, even if telling her about it was thoroughly uncomfortable. I’d pay through the nose for this, but I had no choice. She was the best. Her jet black hair was scraped into one of those twisty buns, and she had trendy thick-rimmed glasses that screamed sexy librarian. She was all in black. Black jacket, black blouse, even a black tie. A slash of shocking pink across her lips was the only break in the monochrome. Yes, she was a killer, alright.
She leaned across her walnut desk, handing me a selection of newspapers from the height of the Gemma craziness. “Tell me, Mr Redfern, are these stories true?”
There was little point in lying. “I was having a relationship with Gemma, a sexual relationship, that is. I met her on chatline, and she didn’t even know who I was.”
“Thank you for your honesty.”
I wasn’t sure she meant it.
“I like Gemma, a lot, whatever we do here can’t hurt her. Number one priority, non-negotiable. I’ll never sign off on it.”
“Of course, Mr Redfern. We will leave Miss Taylor out of this as much as possible. The focus will be on you and your wife.” She ran me through the proposal. I flinched as she reached the part of the plan where I confessed to having a sex