Page 215 of Strangers in my Bed


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It makes me hate him so much more.

“What?” he pushes. “You think that’s unreasonable? Really? It could be that useless cunt Lee’s baby for all we know. Like fuck would I want to raise something that belonged to a loser like him. He was a charity case. He could barely pay a thing, and he was cheating on his fiancée like a piece of shit, and if you’d have told her for yourself, I wouldn’t have had to put pressure on him to do it for you. Maybe this whole fucking thing wouldn’t have turned into a cesspit and cost you your career. I only let him in because he seemed so damn enthusiastic. At least the other men had enough class to pay what you’re truly worth.”

I get another slam of horror at the confession I hadn’t even heard yet. He made Lee tell Claire. Brilliant. Just fucking brilliant.

“You said you didn’t tell Claire.”

“I didn’t,” he counters. “I told Lee that he should have the respect his fiancée deserves and tell her the truth.”

“Maybe you should have held yourself to the same fucking standards!”

He doesn’t speak at that, so I carry on talking before he can conjure any more bullshit excuses.

“It could be Lee’s baby,” I say. “It could be any of the other dirty pricks that came through that door.”

“Yeah, exactly. So why the hell would you want to keep it? Why the hell would you expect me to want you to?”

My voice is so calm when I answer him.

“Because it’s mine. You should want me to keep it and be a father to it because it’s mine.”

For the first time ever the manipulator’s shield crashes totally down to the floor. His expression turns to one of misery, and he finds it hard to keep standing tall. I feel like Sarah at the end of Labyrinth, when the goblin king loses his power.

Ant can’t speak. He can’t answer. He has nothing to say.

I take off my ring and put it on the kitchen counter, choking back the sobs I want to cry.

“Goodbye, Ant. I’ll take some of my things and go.”

I’m walking away when he cries out to me.

“Cass! Baby, wait! Please!”

I ignore him.

I ignore him as he pleads with me, and I ignore him when he appears at my side, and I ignore him when he follows me upstairs, begging me to listen to his sobbing mess of lies.

I’m not interested in another word.

I throw a load of things in my case without giving a shit, and then I lug the case downstairs along with me, while he is still in my wake with empty promises.

I love you, princess. Please don’t do this. Please. I can’t survive without you. I don’t want to!

Please don’t leave me like my mother did!

I shoot him a glare at the guilt card. He can fuck right off with that one.

I’m almost at the front door with my case when he rips it from my hand and blocks my path.

“Cass, no. NO. I’M the one you want to be with. ME. I’m the one you’re in love with. You just don’t see it right now, because you’re hurt and you’re angry, but we’re going to put this right.”

I shake my head.

“No, we’re not. You’ll never put this right, Ant. I’m done with you.” I pause, my eyes on his. “Now, give me my case, please.”

“I can’t.”

“GIVE ME MY CASE, ANT!”

“I CAN’T! I LOVE YOU TOO FUCKING MUCH!”

With that the door swings open at full force and Gerwyn steps inside.

He tears the case from Ant’s hand with way more power than Ant took it from mine, his stare is like daggers as he shoves Ant away from me.

“You don’t fucking love her, Ant. But I do.” My crusader takes my hand. “Let’s go, Cass.”

Ant sneers like Gerwyn is a piece of shit.

“Right, so you’re going to play happy families now, with a kid who might not be yours? Congratulations, Ger. What a fucking winner.”

Gerwyn scoffs at him, like Ant’s worth nothing.

“I don’t know what we’re going to be doing yet, whether we’re going to be friends, or partners, or whatever the hell the future holds. But I do know I’ll be alongside Cass however she wants me to be, and I couldn’t give a shit who the father of her baby is, because it’s hers. You don’t love anyone, Ant. You’ve only ever loved yourself.”

My heart lurches, and Ant looks broken, because Gerwyn’s just mirrored my exact statement, without having heard me say a word.

The baby is mine. And that’s enough for him.

“One last thing,” my hero says, “your mother is desperate to speak to you. Desperate for forgiveness for a situation she had no control over. If you really want to get some meaning to your life, perhaps giving her a call would be a good place to start.”

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