The Forbidden

that’s all.”

I nod, giving my enthusiastic agreement, just needing her to pull it together and leave so I can commence with my own meltdown. It won’t be as spectacular as Stephanie’s, but I can guarantee it’ll involve tears and a panicked call to Jack.

Her face cracks and she starts sobbing again, more controlled this time, her body jerking with the constant sniffles and gasps for air. “What am I going to do?” She hiccups over her words, her head dropping limply.

I have nothing to say to that. I don’t know what she’s going to do, and that truly scares me. “Do you want me to call a friend?” I ask. “Someone you can talk to?” I need to make it clear that I’m not that someone. I wouldn’t be even if I wasn’t in love with her husband.

“There’s no one,” she sobs. “I have no friends.” She looks at me hopefully. I fear the worst. “Except you. I’ll stay with you for a while. You can make me a cup of tea. I’m not good on my own, Annie.”

“How about your mum?” I press, trying to sound concerned rather than desperate.

She shakes her head. “She and Daddy are out for dinner. I don’t want to bother them.”

I try to swallow down the growing lump of apprehension in my throat. It’s not budging. She wants me to be her friend. Or she clearly thinks I already am. She wants to spill her problems to the woman who is carrying her husband’s baby. I can’t imagine a worse situation. Jesus, I can’t make her leave and spend all night wondering if she’s trying to hack at her wrists.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” I say, shutting the front door. I’m totally and utterly fucked.

Leading Stephanie through to the kitchen, I let her take a seat and start making tea, my mind racing, dreading how this conversation will go.

“He says there’s someone else,” she says out of the blue, with definite amusement in her tone.

“Probably just a flash in the pan,” I reply robotically, deciding as I stir our tea that I have no option but to shut down and act like the friend she thinks I am.

“That’s what I said. Some hussy who’s opened her legs.”

I grit my teeth and slide her tea on the table, taking a seat opposite her.

“He’ll come back. I mean, he did before when he realized he’d made a mistake. That he couldn’t live without me.” She laughs, and my smile is strained. I’m falling apart on the inside. I don’t want to hear this. She leans forward, her hands wrapped around her mug, and smiles at me. “You can help me show him. You work with him, see him all the time. You can tell him that he’s making a mistake. What do you say?”

What do I say? I say this must be hell. I smile, physically hurting, my stomach performing constant flips as if to remind me that I have a part of me and a part of Jack growing inside of me. “Okay,” I reply on a swallow.

“Thank you, Annie,” she says, bringing her mug to her lips thoughtfully. She seems significantly more together now. And just as I think that, she slams the mug down and starts howling again. I can’t figure out if this is the normal behavior of any woman whose husband has walked out on them, or just the normal behavior of Stephanie. “I’m sorry,” she cries, wiping at her face. “Do you have any tissue?” she asks.

“In the bathroom.” I’m praying she goes to get some herself and doesn’t expect me to. My phone is across the room by the kettle and it’s going to look odd if I grab it and take it with me. If she goes, I can text Jack for emergency help. “You know where it is.”

The chair slides across the floor as she pushes herself up, and I wait for Stephanie to disappear around the corner before I make a mad dash for my phone, hammering out a message to Jack.

Stephanie is here!

I take a seat again and hold on to my phone, hearing her blowing her nose in the distance. Jack’s reply is almost instant.

What? At your place?

I only have time to reply with a simple yes! before Stephanie appears again. I slip my phone into my pocket and stand. “Okay?” I ask.

She nods, stuffing the tissue in her pocket. Then she approaches me and wraps her arms around my tense body, which refuses to loosen up no matter how much I yell at it not to give my anxiety away. “You’re a good friend,” she says, pulling away from me and kissing my cheek.

I can’t bear this. My alarm bells are suddenly going wild.

A phone starts ringing, and Stephanie gasps, pulling a mobile from the pocket of her coat. The happiness on her face as she looks down at the screen is enough to floor me. “It’s Jack!” she squeals, connecting the call. “Jack?” She turns and hurries out of the kitchen. “Yes, I’m on my way home! Are you coming? We’ll talk. Properly. I’ll listen, I swear.” She disappears in a whirl of excitement, slamming the front door behind her.

I fall to my arse on the chair, the adrenaline that’s kept me going draining from my body and shock setting in. My head falls into my hands, but I have no time to rest my weary mind. My phone starts buzzing in my pocket. I pull it out and answer.

“Annie, are you okay?” Jack sounds out of his mind with worry.

“Great,” I quip. “I’ve just watched your wife spiral into meltdown and listened to her tell me how she’s going to win you back from the hussy you’re sleeping with. Apparently I’m a great friend and I’m going to convince you that you’re making a mistake. Perfect, eh?”

“What?” He sounds as flabbergasted as I am.

“Jack, I’m worried.”

“I’m so sorry,” he breathes. “I didn’t know she’d turn up on your doorstep like that.”

“Are you okay?” I ask softly, not liking the weariness in everything he’s saying.

“I just wish I could be there with you,” he admits, making me smile sadly. “It’s been a shitty day.”

“It has,” I say quietly. He doesn’t need to know what my shitty day has entailed.

“I need to see you, Annie. Can you come to my office in the morning?”

“Won’t that raise a few eyebrows with staff?”

“We’re having a business meeting. That’s all.”

“I’ll bring my files,” I tell him, getting up and going to my bedroom to find my long-awaited bed. I pull my bag off the end and drop it to the floor before I fall in and drag my covers up to my chin.

“My offices at eleven?”

“Okay.”

“I can’t wait to hold you, Annie.” He sounds so exhausted. I close my eyes and imagine myself cuddled into his chest, warm and safe. Together. “’Night, baby.”

“Good night.” I hang up and stare up at my ceiling, trying to piece together how I’m going to break the news to Jack that I’m pregnant. I’m not sure the poor man can take much more.

Chapter 25

The next morning, I’m all kinds of nervous as I sit in the waiting room of Jack’s offices after being told he’s expecting me. I can’t figure out if I’m jittery because Stephanie could turn up again, or whether I’m worried about telling him that I’m pregnant. I don’t have time to ponder for long. Jack strides out of his office toward me, fastening the button of his suit jacket. He looks washed out, absolutely knackered, but his face lights up when his eyes meet mine. He has no tie on today—just a white shirt open at the collar, and his jacket and trousers. His hair isn’t as neatly styled as the last time I encountered him in his office. It’s no wonder, really. I think yesterday took a lot out of both of us.

In contrast, my ripped skinny jeans are worn, my T-shirt oversized and creased, and my flip-flops are highly inappropriate for a supposed business meeting.

Jack nods to the lady on reception. She gives him a half smile, almost sympathetic. Has he made it public knowledge? Has he told people that he’s left Stephanie? I start to fidget in my chair, my nerves accelerating.

“Miss Ryan,” Jack says quietly, holding his hand out to me.

I accept his offering. “Mr. Joseph,” I reply, feeling him pull discreetly to help me to my feet, as though he senses I need the support. He’d be right. I feel drained. I lay

awake last night and agonized over telling Jack my news. I feel like I should be the one easing his stress, not adding to it. “Thank you.” I feel him squeeze my hand gently before releasing it and gesturing the way.

“My office is this way,” he tells me.

This is utterly stupid. Mr. Joseph? Miss Ryan? Telling me his office is this way? Yes, I know, because he screwed me on the desk. Besides, doesn’t his receptionist remember me from when I was here for the meeting with Brawler’s? I feel her looking at me as I pass. She looks suspicious, peeking over her glasses with interest as we pass by. I’m not helping matters when I blush bright red and cough, quickly avoiding her eyes.

“She’s looking at us funny,” I whisper as we walk side by side toward Jack’s office. Our arms are brushing with every pace, the brief touches making my breathing even more shallow. Physical contact between us has rendered me breathless from our very first encounter. Now is no exception, despite the horrible circumstances.

“You’re being paranoid,” he whispers back, taking the doorknob and opening the door for me. “After you.” He gives me a little wink, trying to ease me. I hide my secret smile and enter his office, turning as soon as the door shuts behind me. He swoops me from my feet and carries me to one of the couches, sitting with me draped across his lap, holding me as close to him as he possibly can. “Jesus, it feels like I’ve been waiting forever for this.” He devotes some quiet time to lavishing me with sweet kisses and tender touches to my face, fussing over me like I need to be fussed over. “How did you sleep?” he asks, cupping my face and following up his question with a rub of our noses.

“Terribly,” I admit. “I couldn’t get Stephanie out of my head.” Jack nods his understanding. “She was in such a state.”

“I know, baby. It’s awful to see, but I have to stay strong even if it makes me seem heartless. This is for the best, not just for us, but for her, too. She can’t be happy in this loveless marriage.”

I go limp in his lap, wishing I could rip every thought tormenting me from my mind and be numb to it all. “I feel so guilty,” I whisper. I decide here and now that tomorrow I’m going to church. I’m not religious, but God’s there for everyone, right? He doesn’t turn his back on a soul. I’ll confess my sins and pray for forgiveness. I hope he forgives me. I might hate Stephanie for what she’s done to Jack, but I still feel guilty. I’m both annoyed and comforted by it.

“Hey.” Jack nudges me from my hiding place, his face falling when he finds I’m tearing up. His lips press together as he runs a soft pad of a fingertip beneath my eye, catching the tear before it falls. “Baby, did you plan this?” he asks seriously. “And when I say plan, I mean did you wake up one morning and decide you were going to go out to a bar and fall in love with a married man?”

When he puts it like that… “No.”

“Have you killed anyone?”

“Jack,” I sigh quietly. “It doesn’t make it right.”

“I’m not saying it does, Annie. What I’m saying is that you are not a bad person. You’re not evil or calculating or manipulative. You fell in love. If that’s a crime, then we’ll be in love together in hell.”

“You make it sound acceptable.”

“I’m trying to get my head straight. That’s all.” He laughs lightly under his breath, the sound full of misery that he’s trying so hard to keep from me. “I’ve left Stephanie because she made it impossible to love her. I left her because if I stay, there will be nothing left of me. I left her because I want to be happy.” He pinches my chin a little. “I want you to be happy. With me.”

“I know,” I admit, smiling a little, but it’s sad and it’s strained. “What happens now?”

“I have a place near Maida Vale. There are tenants serving a few weeks’ notice. It’ll be empty by the end of the month. Until then I’ll shack up in a hotel.”

“I’ll be able to see you?”

“Fancy moving in with me?” he kids, smiling when I grin. He could be shacked up in a tent on a crummy campsite for all I care. There would be nothing to stop me being with him. But I also get the feeling there’s more meaning laced between the words of his question, and it has me gathering my inner strength to tell him what I need to tell him.

“Jack—”

“I’ve agreed to see Stephanie this evening,” he blurts out, and my announcement gets caught on my lips. “I wanted you to know so you don’t think there’s anything in it other than—”

“Other than what?” I push my body away from his a little, damning myself for being so obviously slighted and worried.

“Other than talking like grown-ups about the arrangements.”

“Didn’t you talk last night? When you called her?”

“Last night all I cared about was getting her out of your apartment.”

“So you agreed to see her.”

“It was the only way. I can’t go back on my word, Annie. Anyway, she said she’s thinking clearer and thinks some time apart could do us good.”

“Time apart?” I question, not liking the sound of that.

He shrugs. “It’s breathing space. Time for her to get used to the idea. I’m not going to rock the boat and refuse her a half hour of my time if I get a lot more in return. Like my whole life. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

This is a ploy. It has to be. I listened to Stephanie last night and I watched her. She’s a desperate woman. She’ll do anything to keep him. Which brings me to something else…

I suddenly feel desperate myself, but I suck back my news and try to reason with myself. I can’t tell him that I’m pregnant now. He’s right. I have to trust him to do what he thinks is right, even if it kills me to let him. He’s undeniably in a mind-fuck, and I can’t add to that. I can’t make this any harder for him. I have to be patient, and I have to reasonable. After all, it is me who gets him when all this is over. It’s me who gets to have my happily ever after with the only man I have ever loved. The only man I’ve ever shared such a deep connection with, on every level. “Okay.” I push the word out. “I’ll go to Lizzy’s.” I can’t be alone at home thinking. I’ll go mad.

He nods. “How is she, by the way? And Micky?”

“They think I’ve lost my mind.” I say it as it is. “But they’re here for me.”

“I’m glad.” Jack pulls me back down to his chest. “I love you, Annie.” He breathes in deeply, squeezing me so tightly. “I love your passion, I love your mind, I love how you pout across the rim of your cup when you’re thinking. I love it when you fidget when you’re anxious.” His lips push into the back of my head, and I smile a little, loving him telling me all of this. “And I love your U2 T-shirt, especially when you wear nothing else with it.” Breaking out of his hold, I find his face, suddenly desperate to see him. He smiles, and I find my thumb tracing the edges of his jaw as he goes on. “I love how you pile your hair up into something resembling a pineapple, too. And I love how at the end of the day your mascara is a little smudged just here.” He touches the corner of my lid, a grin tugging the sides of his mouth. “I love everything there is to love about you.”

“I love your chest,” I say stupidly, falling back into his warmth, wishing I could hide in it forever.

Jack laughs lightly. “Let’s get this week out of the way and go to Liverpool. Three days, just you and me, yeah?”

I nod and settle into him, enjoying this snatched moment of time. I’ll tell him about the baby at the weekend, when we’re away from London, on our own and relaxed.

* * *

I called Lizzy as soon as I left Jack’s office. She listened to me while I told her about last night and the fact that Jack has arranged to see Stephanie this evening. I didn’t need to ask for company. She told me to get to her place at six when she’d be home from work and we’d eat curry and watch Titanic—a movie neither of us tire of, even after watching it a million times.

She greets me at the door with the biggest hug she’s ever given me. I needed it before I went to

Jack’s office. Now, if she didn’t release me for the entire night, then that would be fine by me. I take my phone from my bag and hand it to her. I don’t need to be checking every minute for a text from Jack. It’ll defeat the whole point of me being here. Lizzy takes it and slips it into the back pocket of her jeans. She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t ask questions or press me: she just silently walks me into the kitchen.

I smile, genuinely happy, when I find Nat and Micky huddled around the table, chatting and laughing. Micky gives me a wink and Nat cheers my arrival. I look to Lizzy, wondering if she’s told them of my turmoil, but she just shakes her head mildly, grabbing a bottle of wine from the fridge.

Lizzy hands me a glass, but when I go to take it, I suddenly remember I should be avoiding this stuff. “Non-alcoholic,” she whispers, going on to refresh the others’ glasses with what I expect is the real stuff.

Nat toasts the air and pulls me down onto the chair next to her. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” I laugh, joining her in a sip of wine.

“You do.” Micky winks at me across the table. I pick up a