The Forbidden

of Fire.”

* * *

I’ve never felt so serene and comfortable. I’m somewhere between sleep and consciousness, Jack’s chest warm under my cheek, my leg sprawled across his thighs, my palm on his pec. His arm is curled around my waist, holding me to him, his chin resting on top of my head. In my sleepy wonderland, I note the film must have finished, because there’s silence except for Jack’s light breathing. Burrowing into his body some more, I sigh happily into my darkness, feeling him respond to my move, kissing the top of my head in his sleep. Then I’m drifting back off again.

* * *

The sharp jerk of his body beneath mine wakes me, then the soft sound of my name has my lids flickering and slowly peeling open. “Annie,” Jack says again. I turn my face up to his, but he’s not looking at me. He’s looking across the room, and when I slowly crane my neck to find out what has his attention, all the warmth I’m feeling turns to ice. I push myself away from his body abruptly, ignoring my waking muscles that are screaming their protest, pulling painfully. There’s no time for me to consider giving them the slow moves they need, because though they’re not fully awake, my mind is. And so are my eyes, which are open wide and staring at Lizzy and Micky, who are standing at the entrance to my lounge.

Chapter 22

I clam up, looking away, ashamed. The disappointment on their faces is more than I can bear and only a smidgen of what I expect is to come. Their silence is excruciating.

Jack shifts next to me and I look at him. His face is serious, but I can see he’s desperately trying to feed me some reassurance. It’s in vain. “Do you want me to go?” he asks quietly, instantly giving me something else to make my mind spin about.

I don’t know. Do I? Will Jack serve as a support, or will he fuel the situation? My face must tell him that I’m in a muddle over how best to approach this, because he reaches for my hand and squeezes.

“I’ll stay.” He makes the decision for me, and, with my own head not helping me out, I go with his instinct and nod a little.

“You can leave,” Micky butts in. I look across and find my oldest friend looking the most serious I’ve ever seen.

“I’ll be staying,” Jack counters smoothly and firmly, getting to his feet, showing no shyness at being virtually naked. I follow his lead, gathering the covers and pulling them in before standing and facing my friends.

The look of disdain on Micky’s face is fierce. “How about I don’t give you the option?”

“How about you do and this doesn’t get nasty?” Jack retorts, the muscles of his back tensing dangerously.

“All right!” Lizzy interjects, holding her hands up, looking as equally pissed off as the two men in the room. She closes her eyes and gathers strength. “What the hell is going on, Annie?”

“She’s fucking a married man, that’s what’s going on!” Micky spits nastily. “Why don’t you run along back to your wife? Tell her what you’ve been up to? Or maybe I should go tell her.”

Jack lunges forward threateningly, leaving me no choice but to jump in his path before they start scrapping in my lounge. “Stop!” I shout, placing a hand on Jack’s chest firmly. “I think it’s best you go.” I look up at him, and he immediately starts shaking his head.

“No.” He looks adamant. “Not so these two can slam you and make you start questioning what you’re doing.”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do!” Micky yells. “Make her see some fucking sense!”

“Just stop!” I yell, turning to face my oldest friend. “I know what I’m doing!”

“You do?” Lizzy pipes up. “Are you sure, because I’m pretty sure you must have lost your fucking mind, Annie. What has he promised you? He’s going to leave her?” She laughs coldly. “Yes, they all say that, but when it comes to the crunch, they’re all ball-less! You’re a bit of fun. Something exciting and different. Don’t you see that?”

“It’s nothing like that,” I yell, starting to lose my shit. Her experience, albeit at the complete opposite end of the spectrum, cannot be used as a comparison. “And if all you’re going to do is stand there and make judgments, you can leave now. You know nothing about this, and you don’t look like you’re in the mood to listen, so get out!”

Both of my friends recoil, shocked, and Jack’s hand rests on my shoulder to calm me. It won’t work. I’m infuriated that they think they have our situation nailed. They don’t. I’m not just fucking him. I back up into Jack’s front, showing where my alliance lies, my face fixed and determined.

“Calm down, Annie,” Jack says quietly from behind, turning me to face him. He looks down at me with a soft smile, reaching up to my eyes and wiping under each tenderly. “This is just part of the process. One of the challenges we need to face.”

He’s talking to me like there’s no one else in the room, and it’s having the effect he’s wanting. Under his soft order, I swallow down my frustration and pull myself together.

“Don’t drive your friends away. You need them.” He dips and pushes his lips to my forehead, and though I now can’t see Jack’s face, I know he’ll have a trained eye on my friends. “I’m going to get dressed.”

He heads for my bedroom, slowing when he reaches the door, needing Micky to move so he can pass through. It takes my friend a few seconds to find the courtesy, but he eventually shifts to the side, allowing Jack to pass, even if it’s on a curled lip. I see Lizzy blow out a breath as Jack disappears and Micky uncoils a little.

Then they both look at me again, but before I let their condemnation beat me down I turn and scoop up my T-shirt from the floor. “You can put the kettle on if you want to stay. I need to get dressed.”

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Lizzy sighs, taking Micky’s arm and pushing him through to the kitchen, leaving me alone. I spend the few minutes it takes me to dress trying to dampen down my simmering resentment. I fail. But I need to face this head on. No more hiding.

When I join them in the kitchen, I find Lizzy is drinking wine and Micky has a beer in his hand. I’ve pushed them to drink.

“I didn’t give you a key so you can infiltrate my privacy,” I say as I get my own glass down from the cupboard and pour myself some wine. I’ve pushed myself to drink, too.

Neither of them have anything to say to that, but I’m not kidding myself that the conversation ends here.

“I had a training session with Jason this afternoon,” Micky explains. “He was telling me he bumped into Tom.” His head cocks, his eyebrows rise. “And Tom mentioned some bloke breaking down your apartment door.”

“What the hell are you thinking?” Lizzy jumps in, pointing her wineglass toward the door, as if there could be any confusion about what she’s talking about. “I knew you were hiding something.”

“Is it any wonder?” I ask. “Why would I confide in you when I knew you would be like this? I don’t expect you to understand.”

“What’s to understand?” Micky pipes up, dropping to a chair. “All this time you’ve been lying to us. You’re going where no one should go.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I walked into this with my eyes closed?”

“You must have.” Micky laughs bitterly.

“This isn’t a game,” I shout. “He’s not a trophy to be won. I fucking love him!” I shock myself with the decibel level of my voice, and Lizzy and Micky’s eyes bug. But I don’t give either of them an opportunity to come back at me with their thoughts. Not until they know the deal. “I’ve torn myself to shreds repeatedly!” I yell. “I’ve beaten myself up and constantly dreaded the consequences, but none of it has made me lose sight of how I feel. I can’t pretend I don’t feel this way. I can’t turn my back on it because I’m scared.” My voice is starting to quiver, but I soldier on, determined to try and make them see things from my perspective. “He’s worth the shit I know I’m going to go through, because I love him. So much it fucking hurts right here.” I thump my chest. “It frightens me, but the thought

of not having him, of coming out of this mess without him, fucking terrifies me.” I finish off my speech with a long glug of wine, shaking as I bring the glass down to the worktop. “I’m not asking you to give me your blessing. I’m just asking you not to assume you know the deal, because you don’t.”

“He’s not yours to take, Annie,” Lizzy says quietly. “Don’t go there, please.”

“It’s too late.” I drop my eyes to the floor. “And I’m not taking him. He’s coming to me willingly.”

“Do you think his wife will see it like that?” Micky asks. “And anyone else?”

“No,” I admit. “But one thing I’m having to come to terms with is that I can’t control how people will see me. I’ve been through all the labels that I’ll have slapped on me. Homewrecker, slut, whore, selfish bitch. But none of them hurt as much as the thought of being without Jack. He’s miserable in his marriage. That mark on his face is because of her. She did that to him!”

There’s a brief silence and both of them look at me, stunned. “Oh shit,” Lizzy sighs, discarding her wineglass, shaking her head. She might not understand, but she comprehends how I feel about Jack. Coming over to me, she wraps an arm around my shoulders, giving me a half cuddle. “What have you gotten yourself into, Annie?”

“Love,” I reply simply, because that little four-letter word is the only explanation for me venturing down this painful road.

The moment Jack’s eyes met mine in that bar, our hearts began to slowly entwine, and now they’re tangled so tightly I have no choice but to battle forward and hope we can’t be ripped apart, because if Jack leaves me, he will take part of my heart with him. I’ll be destroyed. The growing lump in my throat expands and I break down in Lizzy’s arms. I hear Micky curse, and I hear a soft sob come from Lizzy, too. I cry into her shoulder quietly, grateful for the comfort she’s been forced into giving me, until she pulls away and holds me by my shoulders. Her eyes are glassy with tears as she wipes mine, her face sad.

“You stupid girl,” she says tenderly, her voice broken with emotion. “Part of me is so happy that you’ve found a man you’re so in love with, and the other part of me is full of dread for you.”

I swallow on a nod of understanding, feeling exactly the same. Micky audibly sighs and comes over, wrapping his big arms around both of us. “My brain is officially pink,” he mutters, kissing each of our heads in turn. “For fuck’s sake.”

A mild cough interrupts us, and our little crowd breaks up. “I didn’t want to interrupt,” Jack says.

“You’d better be there for her,” Micky warns harshly.

Jack doesn’t retaliate, and he doesn’t look insulted that Micky’s more or less threatening him. I hold back from telling my friends that I need to be there for him, too. “I will be,” Jack answers, not wavering at all.

“And if you break her heart, I swear I’ll kill you.”

“There’ll be no need,” Jack counters coolly, turning his calm gray eyes onto me. “If I hurt her, I’ll kill myself before you can get to me.”

I hear Micky’s small hitch of surprised breath, and I bite my lip as silence falls. There’s nothing left to be said. Lizzy nudges Micky from his staring deadlock with Jack, pulling him out of the kitchen. “I’ll call you in the morning,” Lizzy says, so obviously torn by today’s revelations.

Jack moves from their path and nods respectfully as they pass, and once the front door closes, he turns to me, his hands deep in his trouser pockets, his face grave. It’s all becoming so real now. “You okay?”

I nod, but my emotions don’t agree and I crumple once again, unable to process what just happened. Jack crosses the room in a few easy strides and pulls me in for a needed cuddle, holding me tightly, hushing me and kissing my hair. “We’ll be okay,” he says, trying to appease me. “I promise.”

I hang on to his words like they are all I have, praying that he is right while physically hanging on to him, too. I feel drained of energy already. My lack of fight doesn’t sit well. My strength is going to be tested to the limit. I can only hope it doesn’t break me.

Breathing in deeply, Jack gives me one last squeeze before cradling me in his arms and carrying me to my bedroom. He lays me on the bed, then disappears momentarily to collect all of the pillows and the duvet from the lounge. Once he’s put a pillow under my head and stripped both of us down, he crawls in, forcing me onto my side, and covers us up. The length of his body curls around mine perfectly. “Every time I leave you, it hurts, Annie. I’m climbing the walls, getting myself all worked up because I don’t know how long it will be before I can be with you again. I can’t go on like this.” He kisses the back of my head, pulling me closer.

We’re locked together.

Sheltered from the outside world. Protected from what is to come.

“No matter what happens, what she does to me or to herself,” he whispers in my ear, “I’m leaving her tomorrow.”

Chapter 23

The wretchedness that engulfs me when I open my eyes could knock me unconscious again if I allow it. Jack’s gone. I roll over and stare at the pillow where his head lay last night, the warmth of his body locked against mine still lingering. My hand slides up the sheets onto the pillow, feeling the warmth there, too, telling me it’s not been long since he left. The needy side of me hates him for slipping out without waking me. But the sensible side of me knows he did what was best. I don’t think I could have let him go. He’s telling her today.

It would be easy to hide under my bedcovers all day, but I whip them off and get out of bed. I see a note propped up against the lamp on the bedside table. I take it between two fingers and read.

Don’t go anywhere x

He doesn’t mean literally, like not to leave my apartment. He means from his life. I bring the paper to my nose and inhale, silently promising him that I won’t. Then I slide it back onto the bedside cabinet and wander through my apartment, intent on getting some coffee before I shower and get on with my day. My plan is simple: lock myself in my studio all day and lose myself in work.

After I’ve thrown on some ripped jeans, my U2 T-shirt, and flip-flops, I make my way into my office and sit at my desk. And I stare at the blank screen. Forever. I twiddle my pen for ten minutes and then doodle on some paper. I start at least ten e-mails and try to answer another twenty. I doodle some more and finally throw my pen down, wedging my elbows against my desk and letting my face fall into my hands. This isn’t going to work. I grab my laptop and case, throw a scarf around my neck, and dial Lizzy on my way out the door. She answers within two rings. “Hey,” she greets me, subdued.

“Hey,” I parrot, hitting the pavement. “How are you?” I ask, for lack of anything else to say. It’s obviously strained between us, and I hate it.

“I didn’t sleep much,” she openly admits. “Nat popped around for an hour. She was asking after you.”

“Did you tell her?”

“No. That’s not my place, Annie. And I might not like this, but I fully appreciate the sensitivity of it. Your secret is safe with me.”

I reach the main road, my eyes closing briefly, ashamed. She makes what’s between Jack and me sound sordid, and I can’t argue with that. “Thank you.”

“Where are you?”

“Heading for Starbucks.”

“Already? It’s eight on a Sunday morning.”

“I needed to get out,” I admit, not holding back. “Jack’s telling Stephanie it’s over today. I don’t know when, but I can’t sit around at home all day thinking about it.”

“I see,” she says flatly. “Is he telling her about you?”

“No.”

“So what does he plan on saying, then? She’ll want a reason.”

I look down at my feet, hating her coldness, but knowing I can’t expect anything more. She may have hugged me when I broke down last night, but that wasn’t a sign that she would go full-force into happiness for me. “There were cracks in their marriage before me, Lizzy,” I say, my voice qu

ivering.

“Of course there were, Annie. There would have to be for Jack to look elsewhere.”

“He wasn’t looking,” I argue, not with any malice, but as firmly as I can muster.

“Whatever. My point is, many marriages have cracks, but when you take your vows, you promise for better or for worse. You forsake all others.”

I come to a stop on the street. “Is there a vow that states it’s acceptable to physically hurt each other? Do they make you promise to never scratch your husband or cuff his face?”

She doesn’t answer, and I sigh.

“Lizzy, I didn’t call you to hear this.”

“And I didn’t take your call to pump you full of reassurance,” she retorts, making me wince. It also brings more tears to my eyes. I brush at them harshly, trying not to sniff and snivel so she can hear my sadness. I’m not looking for sympathy; I’m just looking for my friend. And I don’t think she’s here anymore.

“I understand,” I whisper, cutting the call. My phone slips away from my ear into the center of my hand, my arm falling heavily to my side. The tears are falling steadily down my cheeks as I pick