Page 145 of Mr Garcia


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Sebastian rubs his forehead,

“She has images,” Bart replies. “We’ve seen them with our own eyes.”

“She has one image. I couldn’t delete that one image because it was on the very edge of the tape and we couldn’t work out how to do it. But I know for certain it wasn’t incriminating, or that it even showed it was in a strip club. It could have been from anywhere, and my face wasn’t visible. We did a trace and deleted footage of every night Sebastian was ever there for his entire membership.” My eyes flick to Sebastian. “That conversation is coming later.”

Sebastian winces.

I know how often you went there, fucker.

“You’re also going to tell them about the night in Bath when you were drugged and the pregnancy threat,” I continue. “I want them to investigate where her mobile phone was on that date. We need to prove she’s lying.”

“April,” Sebastian whispers.

“Sebastian!” I snap as he hits the last of my patience. Do. Not. Even,” I warn him. “We press charges, and then we issue a statement saying that you have been through a blackmail ordeal using falsified images.” I say in a rush.

“Issuing a statement isn’t needed,” Bart replies.

“You know that if we don’t, she will. We need to cut her off at the chase,” I reply. “We won’t say that the blackmail was from her, but at least if the statement is out, our story stands.”

Sebastian drops into his chair, unable to stand.

Knock, knock.

I look between them. “I have to go upstairs. I can’t be here without butting in and telling them what you two should be saying. I’ll ruin the whole thing.”

“Yes, go,” Bart says. “We’ve got it.”

Sebastian’s eyes search mine, and I force a smile. “See you soon.” I take the stairs two at a time, and I wait at the top, just out of sight,

I hear Sebastian open the front door. “Hello, please come in.”

The police were here for hours going through everything. The questioning was in depth, and I imagine it was very stressful for Sebastian.

Then the public relations team arrived, and the house was full of people as they organized the statement that was to be released to the press. It was a whirl of activity down there, and I should have perhaps been involved. After all, I used to be part of that crisis management team.

But I couldn’t. I stayed upstairs and cried like a baby to my sister Eliza on the phone, she wants to come over to be with me but she's heavily pregnant and can't fly.

I feel so alone and compelled to stay out of sight tonight. I didn’t want to see anyone.

And perhaps, if I’m being completely honest, I’m embarrassed that my husband is being accused of fathering a child while he was with me.

I feel sick to my stomach.

What if it’s true?

It isn’t.

He wouldn’t do that to me—I know he wouldn’t—and besides, I’m sure men can’t ejaculate while unconscious.

Everyone left about an hour ago, but Sebastian hasn’t come upstairs yet.

I don’t know what he’s doing down there. If I were a better person, I would go and comfort him, he’s had a really stressful day.

But I can’t help but feel resentment toward him.

By protecting her, he gave her a gun to shoot me.

He knew what she was capable of and yet he never pressed criminal charges.

I don’t understand why. I never will.

I keep seeing Helena’s face when she asked me if he’d told me about the night that they spent together, and that he had decided that he was moving on with me and so he wanted to say goodbye to her properly. He wanted to make love to her, one last time.

It makes sense.

We had just told each other that we loved each other. Things had just turned serious between us. If ever there was a turning point in time when he had decided that we were going to be more, that was it.

I know that it’s stupid, and I know she’s making it all up and it never happened, but my insecurities are at an all-time high.

I’ve been that wife before who never thought that her husband was capable of such things. The one who would have defended his honor with her life.

Unfortunately, I no longer hold the ability to go gung-ho into publicly defending any cheating husband allegations. No matter what the story is, no matter how much I want to, I will remain silent.

I did all I could to protect him and he hasn’t protected me.

I hear the top step creak, and I close my eyes, pretending to be asleep. I don’t know what to say to him so this is the easy option.

The bed dips and I feel him push my hair back from my forehead. He bends and kisses my temple.

“Do you know how much I love you?” he whispers.

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