26. Twenty-Six

Twenty-Six

T he cold night air hits me as I stumble out onto the street, looking left then right, as my addled brain works out which way to go.

"I've called a taxi," Lucy announces.

"I need to get out of here," I mutter, charging forward. I need to get away. Far away from Art Black and his lies.

"Sophie."

Hot tears well in my eyes and blur my vision at the sound of his voice. I can't stop walking. I can't look at him. I can't be reeled in. Not this time.

His hand lands on my shoulder and I shrug it off. "Don't you dare touch me. You're a bloody liar and I want nothing more to do with you."

He's not giving up. He darts in front of me, blocking my path. "Let me explain." I've never heard him like this before. He's pleading and it doesn't suit him .

"It's too late," I spit. "You should have told me at the start. You should have told me you own a bloody seedy strip club at the start." I stab a finger in the direction of the club. "And that you employ the likes of her to get their tits out. Do you sleep with all the women who work for you, is that it? Do you get a kick out of it?"

"No!" Anger flashes in his eye. "It's a business. It's not like that. I don't feel anything for anyone but you."

He's not reeling me in with his words this time. "You know I've been hurt by a fucking liar in the past and you still didn't tell me."

His jaw ticks with tension. "I'm sorry."

That's not going to cut it.

I fold my arms to stem my trembling hands. "And what about the apartment? You lied about that too."

"You wouldn't have accepted it if you knew I owned it."

He's right, I wouldn't.

"I'm paying a quarter of the actual rent; what are you getting the rest of your rent in, sexual favours? If that's the arrangement it would have been nice to have been told."

"Don't talk about yourself like that," he snaps. "I want you to be safe. I care about you, you know that."

"No, I don't. I don't know anything. I don't know you at all," I cry. "I thought you'd never hurt or lie to me." Tears run down my cheeks. "You promised. I can't be with someone who would do that."

His Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows. He shakes his head as if he can't believe what's about to come. "You haven't listened to me."

There's no way I'm going to stay and listen to more of his lies. I push past him. "We're over."

"No!" He grabs my elbow and spins me around to face him. Wide, pleading eyes stare down at me. "I can't let you go."

I yank my arm from his grip. "Well, you need to learn how to because it's over. "

"You don't mean this." He reaches out a hand to touch me, but I jerk out of his reach.

"You don't tell me what I mean, and you don't get to touch me ever again."

His jaw tightens as he draws his head back. "Sophie, please." His voice is pained, and I hate the way my name sounds on his lips.

A rumble of thunder echoes overhead and heavy wet drops of rain begin falling, chilling my flesh. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop my lip from trembling at what I'm about to say. I fix him a steely look. "It's over."

And I turn and walk away, with Lucy at my side.

The taxi journey home passes in a blur of tears with Lucy cradling me like a baby as I sob. As soon as she opens the door to the apartment, I make a beeline for my bedroom and peel off the stupid bloody burlesque outfit, throwing it in a heap on the floor. I stare at my red, swollen eyes in the mirror and wipe off my make-up, removing all traces of the evening, and throw on my pyjamas. My clutch bag vibrates from the floor where I chucked it, signalling yet another phone call. I don't need to check to see who's calling me. I have no intention of speaking to him. His front door key lies on my bedside table from earlier. When I was still blissfully ignorant. Fresh tears swim in my eyes and I tear them away from the key, unable to look at it.

Lucy is perched on a kitchen stool and two mugs of steaming black coffee are waiting on the counter when I finally emerge from the bedroom.

"I'm sorry for ruining your hen-do," I say sliding onto the stool beside her and resting my head in my hands.

"You haven't. We're too old for partying all night, anyway." She nudges me playfully and gives me a smile, but I can't muster one up in return.

I curl my hand around the mug and slide it towards me. "You go home."

"I'm not leaving you like this."

"I'll be fine," I say automatically, although I know I won't be. I'm not sure how I'm going to get over this. Get over him .

She folds her arms across her chest and fixes me a firm look, which tells me she's not going to budge. "You're not fine at all. You're totally distraught. You've just had a massive bloody shock."

I stare down at my coffee as silent tears tumble down my cheeks. An hour ago, I felt like the happiest woman in the world and now a massive hole has been ripped through my life. "If it means anything, he looked totally distraught too when you finished with him."

I finished with him.

A double knock sounds on the door to my apartment and my heart leaps.

"Sophie, let me in," Art's voice calls from the other side.

He's here.

I instinctively tense and my eyes fly to the door. "Send him away. I'm not talking to him."

His fist lands against the door with a thud and I jump as the sound echoes down the hallway to where I sit. "Sophie. Please, talk to me."

Lucy's wide blue eyes swing from me to the door. "Don't you think you should speak to him?"

I don't believe this.

"Whose side are you on?" I snap.

"It's not about sides, it's about what makes you happy."

"You've got one more chance to let me in," he cries from the other side of the door.

One more chance before what? I frown at the idle threat.

"Didn't he say he owns this place?" Lucy asks.

How could I forget?

"Yes, it would appear that way."

"In that case, don't you think it's likely that he's got a copy of the ke—"

Our heads swing towards the door at the sound of a key turning in the lock. Sure enough, the front door swings open, and he charges towards us, kicking the door closed behind him with a bang. I jump up from my stool and back away from him behind the sofa .

He's got a bloody key and let himself in. Just like he did before, I realise. That time I was drunk and when the picture arrived. He's been letting himself in and out of my apartment since the moment I moved in.

"Get out!" I cry pointing at the door. "You're trespassing."

"Not really, given that I own the place," he retorts, advancing towards me.

He's getting closer. I can't have him near me. I can't have him within touching distance. My hands fly out in panic. "Don't come near me."

He stops a few metres away from me and jams his hands into the front pockets of his trousers, frustration etched across his face.

Lucy's eyes dart between me and him as she slides off her stool in the kitchen. "I'll just be in the bedroom," she says, sloping away.

I can't look at him because he'll manipulate me.

I turn around and fold my arms, staring down at the dark and glistening waters of the Thames below.

"You shouldn't have bothered coming."

"Do you really think I'm just going to disappear from your life?"

I hate the words I'm about to say. "I want you to."

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I see the silhouette of his reflection and watch his head bow. "You don't mean that."

He's doing it again. Telling me what I think.

Anger ignites in my gut. "You don't tell me how I feel. You don't get to tell me anything anymore because we're over."

"Please, stop saying that." The pleading tone in his voice is back and I hate myself for making him sound like this but it's his fault. It's all his fault.

"You lied to me. Everything I thought I knew about you is a lie. Our whole relationship is based on a lie. I don't know you, you're a stranger to me." My voice trembles as reality sinks in.

"I should have told you about the club at the start. The longer it went on, the harder it got. I know I fucked that up and I'm so sorry. But what we have is real and you do know me." His voice quietens. "You know me better than anyone. "

"I know the version of Art you want to give," I snap. "But the real Art owns a club where women get their tits out."

"It's just a business that I own. I'm never usually there, I leave that to the manager, but sometimes things crop up and I need to get involved."

…sometimes things can get out of hand with some of the guys. Testosterone and all that.

His words echo back through my brain and it all makes sense now. "No wonder things can get out of hand with baying men watching naked women jiggling their bits about." I shake my head in anger. "And there I was thinking you were talking about the gyms. I've been such a stupid cow, and everyone knew except me." My brain reveals another piece of the jigsaw. "Big Steve knew, didn't he? He knew you hadn't told me about the club, and he knew how I was going to react when I found out. He was warning you not to hurt me, he wasn't warning you about me."

"He's a good guy and a good friend."

Which is more than can be said of the other "friend", I think cynically.

"Is it just business with Tara?" I hiss as jealously stabs at my heart. "No wonder you don't need to shag her anymore, you can see her tits any time you like."

"It's not like that. She just happens to work there. Like I said, I don't go there very often."

I don't believe anything he says anymore.

"I'm moving out," I announce.

"What?" he snaps. "Where are you going to go?"

I shrug. I've no idea but I'm not about to admit that to him. "I'm not staying here. And you can have your gift back as well."

"Please, don't do this, Sophie."

"It's over. Please, leave."

I see him take a step towards me and I shift a few paces forward out of his reach. He can't touch me. I can't allow it because if he does, I'll crumble. I need to stay together .

My vision blurs with fresh tears and I fight to control the tremor in my voice. "You let me fall in love with you and everything I knew about you was based on lies. What sort of man does that?"

He drops his head; he's got no comeback.

"I believed you when you said no one would ever hurt me again now I was yours." My voice cracks. "And they have. You have."

"I can't let you go," he whispers. "I won't."

I shake my head. "You need to." I draw in a deep breath and fire the last two words out from between gritted teeth. "Get out."

"Sophie… please."

Tears cascade down my cheeks as my heart breaks in two. "Get. Out!"

I stare through the window at the river below and I don't know how much time passes before I hear the front door slam shut, jolting me back to reality. I lift my eyes to see his reflection has gone and my legs give way from beneath me as I curl up into a ball on the floor.

I wake with a start and for a second, I don't know where I am. I peer down and see a fluffy cream throw has been pulled over me as I lie on the sofa.

"Are you okay?" Lucy asks. She's borrowed one of my grey t-shirts and a pair of jogging bottoms and sits in the corner of the L-shape sofa scrolling through her mobile.

I don't think I'll ever be okay again.

I push myself up on the seat and pull the blanket off me. "What time is it?"

"Half twelve. You were exhausted and dozed off about an hour ago. "

I perch on the edge of the sofa and hang my head in my hands as the events of the evening filter back into my thoughts, bringing with them the horrid feeling of emptiness.

"I don't understand why he owns a strip club. Why couldn't he have owned a normal club?" I mutter angrily.

"You'll have to ask him."

"He says it's ‘business.' That's his explanation for everything."

Lucy tilts her head thoughtfully. "He is a businessman. It could just be business."

I flop back into the sofa. "Why the hell didn't he tell me?"

"That's pretty obvious. Not many women are going to want to hear that their boyfriend owns a strip club."

The thoughts swim round and round in my head like fish in a bowl. "I just don't understand him. He hates me wearing anything remotely skimpy, yet he owns a strip club where women are employed to show off their body."

"Yeah, double standards. Typical bloody man. I dunno." Lucy shrugs. "You'll have to ask him."

"He said all the right things. He made me think he'd fallen for me. But I never even knew him, not really. The whole thing's a lie."

"I think he has fallen for you."

"How can he have?" I snap.

"You didn't see his face when he left." Lucy sidles up next to me on the sofa. "He looked like his world had ended."

A lump of emotion wedges in my throat and I swallow it down. "That's how I feel," I whisper.

"You need to speak to him. You need to ask him all those questions you've just asked me."

I shake my head angrily. "He had his chance when he turned up here."

"Did he?" Lucy shoots me a disbelieving look. "From where I was stood it sounded pretty much like you shut him down. You were still angry and in shock. You'd only just found out, so I get that, but he didn't get the chance to explain. Do you really want to end it with him?"

The thought of having to see him at work after this makes me feel sick. The thought of never seeing him alone, never being with him, leaves me numb. Like an integral part of my life is missing and I can't function without it. But I can't be with him if I don't know him. If there's any chance of us working through this, I need to know the truth. I need to know the real Art. I need answers.

I spring into action and jump to my feet.

"Where are you going?" Lucy asks, wide-eyed at my sudden mood change.

"You're right," I call over my shoulder and I hurry into the bedroom, throwing off my pyjamas and pulling on my blue jeans and a grey jumper. "I need answers. I need to know the truth."

"I'll come with you."

"No." I pick up his front door key and rush into the hall. "Thanks for looking after me, but I need to see him on my own," I give her a look. "And you need to go home to your fiancé."

Lucy gives me a rueful look as if she knows I'm right. "Okay. Text me and let me know how you get on."