Page 23 of The Obsession
In a perfect world, I’d call her; she’d tell me she’s left her husband, misses me, and would offer to wire me the money to get a flight home. But I already know that’s not going to happen. She’s so in love with that creep, she’s totally blindsided by his wandering eye.
“Hey, Mum,” I say cheerily when she answers, trying hard to disguise the shake in my tone.
“Hi, sweetheart. How are you?”
“I’m good,” I lie. “Just thought I’d give you a quick call on my way to work. How are things there?”
“I’m busy packing.”
“Packing?”
“Yes, for the cruise. We leave tomorrow.”
“Oh, right. Tomorrow. That came around fast.”
“It did. I’m so excited.”
“You’re going to have the best time.”
“I even bought a bikini,” she says.
“A bikini … wow.”
“I know, the last time I wore one of those I was your age. Jonathon talked me into it.” I roll my eyes as soon as she mentions that douchebag’s name. “Things have been tight since I lost my job, but he convinced me to have a little splurge. He said he’s looking forward to seeing me strut my stuff around the pool area while he lounges on a deck chair to watch me.”
Those words have bile rising to the back of my throat. I can practically guarantee she won’t be the only person he ogles.
“How are things with you, sweetheart. How’s work? How’s Michael?”
I force out a smile, even though there are tears welling in my eyes. “Everything’s good.”
“That’s great. I’m happy to hear that. Listen, Emily, as much as I’d like to talk, I need to finish packing so I can drop the cat off at the sitter. The shuttle bus is picking us up at 6 am, so I won’t have time to do it before we leave tomorrow.”
“All good, Mum. I start work in a few minutes anyway. Have the best time.”
“I will. Thank you. I’m not sure how much service we’ll get while out at sea, but I’ll call you the first chance I get.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too, sweetheart.”
After ending the call, I slide my phone back into my bag and pause just outside the restaurant, giving myself a moment to regroup.
When I finally push through the door, I’m thankful to see the lunch rush is almost over. A few lingering customers are still eating while Sonia wipes down and resets a table off to the side.
I lift my hand and give her a quick wave as I head towards the kitchen. She’s far enough away not to notice my face, but Massimo, our chef, definitely will.
“Ciao, bella,” he says as soon as I enter the kitchen. But just as I expected, he does a double take. The knife in his hand hits the counter with a softclinkas he grabs the towel from his shoulder. His brow furrows, and the usual warmth in his voice disappears.
I don’t even get a chance to reply before he’s moving towards me. I keep walking, but before I can reach the office to stow my bag, his hand closes gently around my wrist, stopping me.
I glance back at him, silently begging him not to ask, but he does anyway.
“Mamma mia(Good grief), what happened to your face?” His eyes narrow in on the corner of my mouth as he speaks.
I force a small laugh, hoping it sounds casual. “You should see the door. Way worse shape than me.”
He doesn’t smile. Massimo isn’t one to pry, but I can see the concern on his face. It has tears stinging the backs of my eyes.
