Page 59 of Checkmate
Stupid Marcus.
Once again, his inability to provide had put her in an awkward position. How much more of her life was she going to have to give up to –
“Miss? I’m sorry, Miss. This one has been declined too.”
“What?!”
Panic bubbled in her stomach as she finally glanced behind her, seeing the mocking expressions looking back.
How had she maxed out her emergency card? She barely ever used it.
“Again, miss, do you have another means to pay?”
Reluctantly, Sophie shook her head, tears prickling in her eyes. She took the card automatically, muttering her apologies as she turned away and pushed through the people watching her.
“They always think they can shop here.”
“They’re always reminded that they can’t.”
The sting of those words burned at her until her skin felt itchy and her body broke out in a cold sweat. She pushed herself to walk faster, almost running out of the store.
She rang Marcus to demand he pick her up, only for his phone to go straight to voicemail.
Anger and humiliation pushed her forward.
Suddenly she was five years old again, her mother having to choose between food on the table or a dress for yet another pageant, standing at the checkout and wondering why everyone was staring.
She was eight years old, beaming as she collected her winnings. The first time she’d won, only for the money to go towards their rent and for her mother to sign her up for another competition.
Fifteen years old, smiling in front of a camera as a creepy bloke with a beer gut told her she was the prettiest thing he ever saw. Using that money to get out of her mother’s house for good and take her life into her own hands.
Repeatedly, everyone had taught Sophie that her appearance was her best asset. As long as she looked good, there was no mess she couldn’t get out of. No man who wouldn’t fall at his feet to give her everything she wanted.
And yet the man she chose, her supposed happily ever after, had failed her so spectacularly that he had left her humiliated in one of the most prestigious stores in the city.
By the time she had marched home, her anger levels had reached an all-time high, not helped by the long walk up the stairwell. Her legs burned with the effort, her heels making her feet ache while her hair stuck to her face with sweat. She was glad there were no mirrors in sight to capture her appearance.
Fumbling with her key in the lock, she was already talking before she got the door open.
“Marcus, why the fuck do you never answer your phone? My card got rejected right in the middle of fucking Harrods and you never—”
Sophie pulled up short as her gaze landed on Erica.
What the fuck?!
Her eyes scanned the scene. The close position, holding one another’s hand. The bottle of wine, already half empty and the cigarettes burning away in the ashtray.
Suddenly Sophie felt raging indignation.
Was Marcus cheating on her?
There had been a few moments over the past month or so where his behaviour had been out of character, but despite what she whispered in Alex’s ear, she didn’t actually believe Marcus was cheating.
He loved her too much, right?
Right?
“Sophie,” Erica said. Smug fucking bitch. It’s not enough to be married to Alex, but to try to steal Marcus too?
