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“That’s terrible.”
“What on earth happened? You celebrated your anniversary not long ago.” Annie’s eyes narrowed. “Was it someone else?”
Bea nodded. “I’m afraid so. He’s in love, he says. They have a baby together. He’s moved out, and we’ve sold the house. I’m heading to the closing after lunch.”
All three of her friends gasped and began talking over one another, asking questions and making exclamations.
“I knew he wasn’t trustworthy. Something about his eyes,” Susan said, folding her arms.
“What are you going to do now? And where will you live?” Annie’s eyes glistened, and she squeezed Bea’s arm.
Bea patted her hand. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m going to be fine. I’ve decided to go home to Coral Island for a while.”
Susan arched an eyebrow. “I vaguely remember you saying you would never move back to the island.”
Bea shrugged. “Things have changed. Besides, that was a long time ago when I still had the kids living at home. Life on the island can be slow and boring for teenagers. Thankfully, I’m no longer a teen, so it will suit me just fine. At least, I hope it will.”
“There’s no way you’ll be satisfied with island life after being a Sydney resident for so long,” Beth declared with a shake of her blunt brown fringe. “You’ll miss the amazing restaurants, going to the theatre, the festivals and the clubs.”
“Most of the time, I did those things with Preston. Now that he’s gone, I can’t imagine I’ll be hitting the clubs very often.” Bea chuckled.
“We’re going to miss you,” Annie said, smoothing her grey bob behind her ears with a fingertip.
“I’ll miss you too. And you’re always welcome to visit.” She’d miss a few things about her life in Sydney, like their family trips to the beach or shopping downtown with Dani. But it surprised her to realise that most of the activities and places she’d experienced throughout her life in the city were easy to let go.
She’d had enough of the fancy restaurants, clubs, traffic, trains, crowds, malls, committees and associations. It would be a welcome break to get away from it all. She needed some time to herself. A chance to rest. She’d always believed that she and Preston would take that chance together, but now she’d do it alone. And the prospect scared and excited her.
She caught a taxi to the solicitor’s office after lunch because the other ladies had insisted on her going out with a bang and had pressured her into drinking three cocktails, her stomach was in knots and her head spinning. She wasn’t ready to see Preston again, but they both had to be at the closing, so there was no getting out of it.
He was there when she arrived, standing in the lobby with a young woman who had impossibly long, tanned legs and a baby in her arms. She was rocking the baby, and Preston was leaning over the child, pulling faces.
The sight tugged on Bea’s heart. He’d done that with their children. He was always a good father, even if he’d turned out to be an unfaithful husband. He loved kids. She supposed she could understand him wanting to be there for his new son. Still, it didn’t make things right. He should never have cheated on her, never given up on them.
Their family was supposed to be his first priority. All those late nights working and trips to Melbourne, when she’d had to sacrifice doing the things she wanted to do so she could watch the kids, help with homework, get them fed and off to bed, he was having an affair instead. She’d never know for certain because since his admission, she didn’t trust anything he said or did. Once trust was gone, it could never be fully recovered.
“Hi, Preston.”
Preston greeted her stiffly.
“Is this Geri?” she asked.
The woman studiously ignored her. Bea wanted to ask her age—she didn’t look to be much older than their own daughter.
“Yes, this is Geri and our son, Ewan.”
“I suppose we should get started.” Bea didn’t know what to say to her husband’s mistress and love child. And since Geri didn’t make eye contact or speak a word to Bea, she could only imagine the feelings were mutual.
Bea and Preston walked into the solicitor’s office together. Her chest was tight, and she was having difficulty breathing. Perhaps she was having a stroke. More likely it was a panic attack, although she’d never had one before, so she couldn’t be certain. Either way, they had to sign the closing documents so that if she passed out on the floor, at least the paperwork would be complete.
She stifled a giggle at her own tipsy gallows humour, wobbled across the office floor and sat opposite the solicitor.
“Let’s get this house sold,” said the solicitor, a large man with a bulging stomach and a balding pate. He brushed the remnants of hair over his bald patch and sat with a huff in his enormous leather chair, then pushed paperwork across the desk to each of them. “Sign these, then swap and sign again. Simple, really.” He grinned.
With a nod, Bea took the stack of papers and the pen offered and set about signing them. They’d gotten a good price for the house, and her half would set her up with a nest egg for the future. It was enough money that she could buy a unit somewhere if she wished.
“Where are you moving to?” the solicitor asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.
“Melbourne,” Preston replied abruptly without looking up.
