Chapter 3 CARL

CARL Ashley was standing in my parking lot, leaning against her car as if she owned the space. Of all the people I could have expected at 12:30 in the morning, she was the last. I cut the engine and stayed in my seat for a moment, hands on the wheel, half hoping she was a trick of the light. She wasn't. She straightened up the moment my headlights swept over her, smoothed her hair, and walked towards me like nothing had ever happened. I got out of the car. "Hey, Carl," she said, in the casual tone of a woman who had just dropped by to borrow sugar. "What are you doing here?" My voice came out icy, and I looked at her as though I could tear her to shreds with my eyes. "I've missed you, Carl." She moved in with her arms open, going for a hug. I stepped back. "Get out, Ashley." She froze with her arms still in the air, then let them fall. Two years ago, Ashley had cheated on me. As far as I was concerned, that was the end of her, and there was no going back. "Carl, I'm sorry," she said, softer now. "We could fix this. I know I was wrong. I shouldn't have cheated on you. Please forgive me. I want you back." "There's no going back, Ashley. I forgave you a long time ago. It's been two years, but I could never be with a woman like you again." "A woman like me?" Her eyes filled with tears. "Is there someone else?" Someone else. For a second, a sky-blue shirt and a girl biting her lip flashed through my mind. I pushed the thought away. I scoffed, hands in my pockets, one foot tapping gently on the concrete. "You must think I'm a joke if you believe I'd fall for tears. You were very good at them back then too, if I remember. They didn't change anything. Get out of my sight, and don't come back." I turned and walked away. "This is not over, Carl!" Ashley shouted across the lot. "I promise you, you can't dump me. Not ever!" I didn't care about the rest of what she said. I was too tired and too disgusted to listen to her. I took the lift up to my penthouse, and for the first time in two years, the silence waiting for me felt a little too loud. Is there someone else? I told myself it was only Ashley, talking nonsense. I wasn't convinced. BELLA For ten whole minutes after he left, I sat in a stranger's bed, wearing his shirt, staring at a closed door. It had been less than twenty-four hours since my boyfriend and my stepsister broke my heart into a million pieces, and I had spent the night in the arms of a man whose name I didn't even know. If my life was a movie, it would have been cancelled for being too unrealistic. I finally got up and splashed some water on my face in the bathroom. When I came out, there was a tray of breakfast on the bedside table. I had no idea when it had arrived, and I had no idea what to do with it. I had no toothbrush. My clothes were still nowhere to be seen, even though he had pointed at the chair like it was a done deal. The chair was empty. I had been wearing his shirt all night, and I was starting to feel like a woman who had been abandoned in someone else's life. Then there was a knock on the door. My heart skipped a beat. I hated that it did. A middle-aged woman walked in with a warm smile and a basket full of things. "Good morning, miss. I'm Mrs Trina, the housekeeper." She set the basket on the vanity beside the bed. "I've brought your clothes, and a few things I thought you might need. I'm sorry they took so long. I pressed them myself." "Thank you, Mrs..." I trailed off. I hadn't caught her surname. "Just Trina," she said kindly. "Thank you, Trina." She walked to the door, then turned back one last time. "Your car is in the lot, and the keys are in your bag. I put them inside last night." Then she shut the door gently behind her. I walked over to the basket. There was a sunscreen, a body lotion, a toothbrush, a towel, a few feminine fragrances and a body wash. It was everything I needed, and I wasn't sure whether I should be touched or terrified by how well this house was run. Whoever he was, he lived like a man who knew how to take care of things. I showered quickly, changed into my clothes, which smelled faintly of fresh laundry, and nibbled at the toast, because I hadn't eaten in hours and I didn't want to be sick again. Then I grabbed my bag and flew down the stairs to the lot. I didn't meet a soul on the way out. So much for Nathaniel seeing me out. The security men at the gate let me drive through as if they had been expecting me. Maybe they had. Maybe this happened here all the time. For some reason, that thought stung. Back at my apartment in Chorlton, everything came crashing down on me again. The betrayal, the night, the smirk on Victoria's face, the sky-blue shirt, all of it hit me at once. I needed to talk to someone. Sophie. I picked up my phone and dialled her number. Sophie had been my best friend since high school, and she had been with me through every good and rough time. When we went to university, I went to the University of Manchester for my three-year degree in nursing, and Sophie went to Liverpool to study information technology. We were two worlds apart in career and campus, but we still talked almost every other day. There wasn't a tiny detail of our lives we didn't share. "Hey, tiny Mochie!" Sophie yelled. She always picked up on the first ring. "Hey, Sophie." "Shouldn't you be in Oliver's arms right now? It's the weekend. I thought that was written somewhere in your contract." I closed my eyes. "Sophie, I'm sorry to call out of the blue. I have a lot going on right now. Could you come over?" There was a short pause, the kind that meant she had heard everything I hadn't said. "Put the kettle on," she said. "I'm on my way." She hung up before I could say anything else. An hour later, my doorbell rang. "Coming!" I yelled from the kitchen, where I was trying to stir-fry some vegetables and chicken. I hadn't eaten much before leaving Spinningfield. I swung the door open, and Sophie clung to me like a child who hadn't seen her mother in years. I couldn't hold it back. I hugged her tightly too, and that was when the weight of everything fell on me. I had been holding in so many tears since Friday, and I hadn't realised it until I saw her face. I burst into tears. "It's okay, it's alright, I've got you," Sophie said, rubbing my back. "Let it all out. You're safe." We stayed like that for a while, standing in my doorway like two people in a bad movie. Then I hurried to the kitchen to turn off the cooker and grab some tissue to clean my face. When I came back to the couch, Sophie was sitting quietly, watching me. She was waiting for me to say something, and for once, she wasn't rushing me. "Oliver cheated on me with Victoria, my step..." I started. She didn't let the word leave my mouth. She sprang up from the couch. "What? That can't be true!" "I wish it wasn't, but I saw them. I went to Oliver's after work yesterday, and I saw everything with my own eyes." "Oh, Bella, I'm so sorry." Sophie sat back down gently and pulled me into another hug. "I slept with a stranger," I blurted out, into her shoulder. "What?" She was yelling again. "I'm hearing too many things. Too much drama for one night!" I couldn't help it. I laughed. She sounded exactly like she did when we were sixteen and I told her about my first kiss. "What was he like? Is he handsome? What's his name?" "Sophie, slow down. You're asking too many questions." "Those are the only questions that matter!" "I only caught the name of the man who walked me to my car, Nathaniel, and the housekeeper's name, Trina." I rolled my eyes and sank into the couch. "I don't know his." Sophie stared at me. "You slept with a man whose name you don't know." "In my defence, I was drunk and heartbroken." "That's two defences, and neither of them is a name." She burst into loud laughter. "You're crazy, Bella. Absolutely crazy. You're in for a long ride." I was biting my lip again, and she noticed. "Oh, my goodness. Look at that face. Was he that good?" "I'm not answering that." "You just did." We laughed until the laughter faded, and then Sophie's face turned serious. "What are you going to do about Victoria?" "I don't know." My voice turned icy. "I don't want to see that snake or have anything to do with her right now. As for Oliver, I just pray he never shows up in front of..." My doorbell rang. We looked at each other. "Expecting someone?" Sophie asked. "No." "I'll get it." She marched to the door. "Speak of the freaking devil, and he shows up," Sophie exclaimed as she swung it open. Oliver was standing at my door, shamelessly, with a look on his face like a puppy that had been caught chewing the sofa. The sight of him made me angrier than I had been all weekend. "What are you doing here?" I asked, in a cold voice, glaring at him as though I could shoot him with my eyes. "Are you just going to stand there like a moron?" Sophie asked him, almost at once. "I'm sorry," Oliver blurted. "Bella, Victoria, she came onto me. I, I tried to resist her, but..." "Oh, you tried to resist her?" Sophie cut in. "Was she holding you down? Must have been a terrible struggle. Naked wrestling, was it?" "Sophie, that's not..." "Shut up, you filthy animal. You can't even finish a sentence. Has the cat got your tongue?" I was too angry and too tired to say a word. Oliver looked at me, and I realised he wasn't really looking at Sophie at all. He was looking at me, waiting for me to defend him, or to tell him to stay. "Get out, Oliver," Sophie said again. "Just leave." "Get out," I said. "You heard Sophie the first time. Now I'm telling you to leave my house and never show up here again." My voice rose to a yell. "You son of a bitch. You lying, cheating animal." He turned to leave. "I'll be back, Bella," he said, as he stepped out. "You better not dare!" Sophie shouted after him, and she slammed the door behind him so hard that the frames on my wall shook. We both slumped onto the couch. After a few minutes of silence, I turned to her. "Want some stir-fry and chicken?" "Yes, please," Sophie said at once. Sophie would never say no to food. BELLA The weekend flew by as if my life hadn't just taken a dive off a cliff. By Monday morning, I was back at the hospital for the early shift, and of course I had to show up as the strong, almighty nurse with zero worries, even though everything was crumbling around me. At twenty-eight, my life had still not scratched the surface of stability. How interesting. "Good morning, Bella." A familiar voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Good morning, Ellie," I said, and forced a smile onto my face. Dr Elliot James Harrington was a senior colleague, and a man who had secretly liked me for a long time, although he had always kept things between us at friendship. He had been kind to me, caring and sweet. I might have considered him seriously, if he were my type. He wasn't, even though I knew I would be safer with him than I had been with Oliver, or with that cold man I had met on Friday night. My mind drifted to him again, and I couldn't stop it. I was having flashbacks of everything that had gone on between us. The way his hands had moved along my body, the way he... "Bella? Bella, are you okay?" Elliot's voice pulled me back into the lift. I was biting my lower lip hard, and my face had turned pink. I hadn't even realised what I was doing. "I'm sorry. I got carried away for a moment, Ellie." "Carried away?" He raised an eyebrow. "You were biting your lip so hard I was about to check your vitals." "I'm fine. Really." "Of course you are," he said, in the voice doctors use when they don't believe a word of it, and he held the lift door open for me. I walked straight to Mrs Charlotte's room as soon as I parted ways with him. The bed in 216 had been stripped and made. She wasn't there. "She's been discharged, Bella," Irina said from behind me. "When? She wasn't due to leave for another three days." "Dr Ben, her family doctor, signed her papers on Saturday morning. Her driver picked her up." Mrs Charlotte was gone too. I missed her a little bit, more than I'd expected to. She had been the one patient who would have made me laugh today, and she hadn't even said goodbye. The day went by quickly, and my mind drifted to him every now and then, no matter how hard I tried to stop it. My shift ended at 8 p.m., and I was about to leave the hospital when I noticed a man standing close to my car. He was dressed in a black suit, perfectly still, as if he had been there for a while. Who could that be?