Unfaithful - Natalie Barelli Page 0,53
press my fingers into my eyes.
“I’m scared,” I wail.
“Why?”
“I think he’s going to leave me.”
“What?” She closes the door and sits opposite me. “What happened?”
I tell her about finding the receipt in Luis’s bag, about my visit to the jeweler. Then I tell her about running into Isabelle at the market. I tell her about Patrick. I describe the scene linearly, frame by frame, all the way to its shocking conclusion. It’s not that I want to relive it so much as I want June to know every little detail, so we can dissect and analyze and go over every moment with a fine-tooth comb until she points a way forward. A solution. A cupcake ending.
“Up till then, I honestly thought maybe the necklace was for me.”
She rests her chin in her hands. “Tell me again, how was Luis during this whole exchange?”
I take a moment to find the right word. “Edgy, I think. Ill at ease. He was put out that I invited her. He actually said I should have checked with him first.”
“Ooh, that’s interesting.”
“Is it?” I pop the lid off my cup of coffee. “Tell me! Why? What am I missing?”
“Think about it. You said so yourself, you two have been really good lately, isn’t that right?”
I take a sip. “And?”
“Maybe she’s hanging on, maybe he made a mistake and fixed it, broke it off. And now you invite her for dinner?”
She looks at me sideways and I laugh. “Oops.”
Then my door opens wide and Geoff appears. He looks at me, then at June. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, isn’t this cozy. Am I interrupting something?” He points to June. “Who are you again? Oh, yeah, my assistant!”
“Sorry, Geoff,” I say. “I’ll return her in a sec.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, why?”
“You look upset.”
I shake my head. “Just tired. Give us a moment, will you?”
“Sure, sure. Take all the time you need.”
“Thank you,” June and I say in unison.
“So, what are you going to do?” she asks, after he’s gone.
“I don’t know.” My coffee is getting cold by now and I take a bigger gulp. “What do you think I should do?”
She doesn’t reply, just thinks about it for a moment. “See how dinner goes. You’re still having her over for dinner, right?”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Oh, but you must. This is the only opportunity you’ll have to judge the situation.” She stands up and pats my shoulder. “By the end of it, you’ll know. And if it’s really bad and they’re still together…”
“Then what?”
She lifts her shoulders in a half-shrug. “You’ll think of something.”
Later, on the way back from the tutorial room, I spot Geoff at the end of the hallway leaning against the pale green wall talking to a student. He sees me and raises his arm in my direction. “Anna! Come over here.” When I reach him he puts his hand on my forearm and turns back to the student.
“I’ll talk to you later, Ivan.” Then he puts his arm around my shoulders and leads me away. “I just want to show you something—it’s for the Forrester lecture. It’ll only take a minute.”
For some reason we end up standing outside the store cupboard. It’s where we get our stationery supplies, which are kept under lock and key. It’s also a storage room, filled mostly with cardboard archive boxes piled high against one wall. On the opposite wall are metal shelves filled with cleaning supplies. He glances both ways before pulling out a set of keys from his pocket and unlocking the door.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Just wait.” He’s talking to my breasts. He pulls me inside and closes the door. “What are you—?” but he pushes me against the metal shelves and an aerosol can clatters to the floor.
Oh god.
“No, sorry, Geoff.” I press my palms against his chest to push him away, give a small embarrassed laugh. “I don’t think so.”
He presses harder against me. “Come on, Anna,” he growls. “Tell me, what’ve you been doing with June, anyway?” He rubs his groin against me. “You two are always together, whispering to each other like school girls. Then this morning, the two of you were in your office, with the door closed, and you were crying. I saw you. What are the two of you up to, hey?”
A wave of panic engulfs me. I’m too far from the door to get out easily; he’s too heavy, pressed against me like that. The shelves start to wobble