Free Players, Bumps and Cocktail Sausages by Natasha Preston Page A

classroom and closed the door.
    “Hey, Louise.”
    “On your way to pick her up?”
    No, just here for the view! “Yeah.”
    “I’ve been so excited for you all day. It’s been torture not telling her. She’s going to love a romantic weekend by the sea.”
    “Yeah, I hope so. You didn’t tell her, right?”
    “Course not. Anyway, I’d better go, I’ve got my own romantic weekend planned with a stack of marking!” She nodded her head towards her bulging, oversized leather bag.
    “Sounds fun.”
    “Doesn’t it,” she replied sarcastically and smiled. “Have a good weekend.”
    “Thanks, try to relax too.”
    “I will. Bye.”
    I watched her disappear around the corner then made my way to the English block. Abby’s door was shut, and I tried to picture her face as I told her where we were going.
    I pushed the door opened and immediately wished I hadn’t.
     

Chapter Nine
     
     
    My stomach lurched. I stood there staring at my wife with her tongue down another man’s throat. I’d been suspicious of her for a while but even so, I couldn’t quite believe she’d do it. They hadn’t seen me yet. I wanted to scream at her and knock that bastard the fuck out, but I couldn’t move. I was stuck watching her cut my heart out and piss all over the life we’d planned.
    She pulled away first and smiled at him the way she used to at me. Brett. Then, finally, she looked over and her face fell.
    “Oh no,” she whispered, pushing the prick away. “Jasper…”
    I held my hand up; there was no explanation for what she’d done.
    “Look, man,” Brett said, and before he got any further, I launched myself forwards. Abby screamed for me to stop, but I couldn’t. I was panting.
    Adrenaline mixed with fury and betrayal coursed through my veins. My heavily clenched fist collided with his jaw, and he stumbled backwards, falling over the desk he’d just had my wife leant against.
    “Fuck you!” I spat at him and then looked at Abby. “You made me forgive you and trust you again. You promised you’d never hurt me like that, but your word means shit. Our marriage means shit. I’m filing for divorce. You stay the hell away from me and my family.”
    Usually when she cried it made me feel like crap, but I didn’t care now – in that sense – she hadn’t changed at all. He was welcome to her.
    I turned on my heel, ignoring her pleas for me to come back and talk about it, and stormed out of the school.
    I got to my car, and it was only when I turned the key in the ignition that it hit me. She’d cheated again, and my marriage was over. Swallowing hard, I pulled out of the parking space and drove off, just in time for her to come running through the double doors.
    My eyes were heavy, and I leant against the bar, propped up by my arm, downing yet another double JD – straight. My phone had been ringing non-stop until I blocked her number. Then it started ringing non-stop from my sister’s number. I didn’t want to speak to anyone. I wanted to drink myself into oblivion.
    Minutes, or hours, later – I could no longer tell which – Cole sat down beside me. My sister had sent her husband out searching for me.
    “She a fucking bitch,” I slurred, holding my hand up to get the bartender’s attention.
    “What happened? Oakley’s been going crazy trying to get hold of you. Abby called and told us to find you; she’s worried too.”
    I laughed humourlessly. “My wife is worried is she?”
    “What happened?”
    “Went to meet her from work. Saw her kissing that Brett twat.”
    “Shit,” Cole hissed. “I’m sorry, man.” He shook his head, and I knew he was trying to think of something else to say. I would’ve been the same. What the hell do you say in situations like that?
    “I think I should get you home.”
    “Home. I don’t have a home now.”
    “Come on, you do. I don’t think Abby is there, she said she was at her mum’s and that we should find you.”
    “I don’t care where she is.”
    She