hesitated. They hadn’t seen each other the day before, and up until then they’d got together most nights, unable to keep apart. He knew he should invite her over—she’d been talking about bringing some of her stuff to put in the spare room—and he could ask her to pick up fish and chips on the way. They’d eat it at the table, then curl up on the sofa and watch a DVD, have a cuddle and a kiss. It sounded blissful.
But he couldn’t do it.
“I’m really tired,” he said honestly. “If you don’t mind, I might have a shower then go to bed early.”
She went quiet.
“I’m just tired,” he said, panic rising within him that she’d sensed there was something wrong. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“I wish you’d talk to me,” she whispered.
“I am talking to you.”
“Dex…”
“Please, love. I’m exhausted. I just want to sleep.”
“I was hoping we could go over some of the wedding stuff. The organiser keeps texting me with stupid things…”
“Can’t one of the girls help you?” he said irritably. The last thing he wanted to talk about was the colour of the serviettes and what font to use on the menus.
“Of course. It’s not a big problem. You go and get some rest.”
Immediately, guilt flooded him. “Honey…”
“It’s not a problem, Dex. Just…if you need to talk, I’m here, okay? I don’t like not seeing you. I miss you.”
He melted inside. “I know. I miss you too.”
“I love you.”
He swallowed. “I love you too.”
“See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
They hung up.
He took a long swig of the whiskey and let it sear down to his stomach, then laid his head on the back of the chair and looked up at the ceiling.
He missed her. He wanted her. But the guilt was eating him from the inside out, like a rat in his stomach, and he didn’t know how much longer he could go on like that.
Chapter Twelve
“So how’s it going? Sent the poor bastard to the gallows yet?”
Honey gave Jasmine a wry look over the rim of her coffee cup. It was Wednesday, and her sister was in Kaitaia picking up a delivery of home-grown herbs from a local supplier, so they’d arranged to meet for lunch. She hadn’t told Jasmine much about the case, but her sister had been closer to the mark than she realised. Honey sincerely wished she could send James Hill to the electric chair.
She was relieved to have someone to distract her from what was turning out to be a heartrending case. That morning, the jury had heard James’s side of the story, which had been pretty much what she’d expected. He’d explained that his relationship with Sarah had started out as fun, but she’d turned serious quicker than he had, and he’d never really returned her feelings for him. She’d pressured him into moving in together, which he’d agreed to because he liked being with her and didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
Honey had almost laughed out loud at that point.
But Sarah had proved to be jealous, possessive and temperamental, he’d continued to explain. She flew into a rage if he came through the door ten minutes later than he said he would, and threw accusations at him along with whatever was to hand, plates, glasses, TV remotes, the occasional shoe. He tried to explain that he’d only been working late, or on the odd occasion visited the local bar with his friends, but she always assumed there was another woman involved—which there never was—and she screamed at him until he had enough and walked out.
She grew lazy, spending her days in front of the TV, refusing to go into work, and eventually lost her job. After that, he struggled with what to do, knowing he couldn’t just throw her out onto the street, but soon becoming aware that he didn’t want the relationship to continue. He tried to talk to her father about it, but he didn’t want to know. He couldn’t talk to Sarah, because every time he raised the subject, she flew into a fit and screamed and then cried.
He thought about it for weeks, but in the end made the decision on the spot. Yes, he’d come home late, and yes, he’d been drinking, mainly because he’d been unwilling to go home as he knew what lay in store for him. When he walked in, she started screaming, and he snapped, turned around without another word and walked out. He never went back.
Not until the night in