Page 18 of Best Wrong Thing
“I had no idea he was carrying on with that woman until—until?—”
Dad was the king of working late. One evening, Mum had gone to the office to surprise him with a takeaway dinner. Her reward? Catching Dad screwing Molly over his desk. By the time he got home later that evening, she’d packed up his clothes and left them in boxes in their front garden. I swear Dad was more upset that she’d kicked him out so publicly—the curtain twitchers had a field day—than that their marriage had ended. Dad has always been a keeping-up appearances kind of man.
“What if there were women before her Ididn’tknow about? What does she even see in him? He’s old enough to be her father!”
Men get better with age.
Fuck. No. I can’t think about Archer’s opinions. He’s not Molly.
But he is her son.
Fuck.
“I—don’t know,” I reply after pausing too long.
“Do you know? Has she told you?”
“What? No. Don’t be daft. I barely know her.”
“Well, she’s your stepmother now, so you’ll probably see a lot more of her.”
I don’t need reminding.
“Knowing your dad, he’ll want to play happy families. Do you think they’ll have a child together?”
Please, God, no.
“Men have active sperm until the day they die, you know.Theydon’t have a biological clock like women do.”
I hold her hand. “Mum, you have to let it go. All this anger is consuming you. It won’t change anything. He won’t see the error of his ways and come crawling back.”
“I wouldn’t take him back, even if he did.”
“Good. Why don’t you do something just for you? You always talked about going to India with your fabric painting group. Why don’t you book the next trip?”
“That reminds me. I saw some of Rex’s photographs the other day.”
“You did?”
Rex is a travel photographer. Which means he travels. A lot. Pretty much all the time. And he’s almost always in a time zone that isn’t conducive to a quick chat. We’ve been friends since primary school. At one point, I told him everything. Now, not so much, but only because he’s never here and not easy to contact.
“Yes. On a website. Photos of India. He made it look beautiful. He’s very talented. Have you heard from him recently?”
“We email.”
“You two used to be so close. Where is he at the moment?”
“He’s travelling around China.”
“Any idea when he’ll be home?”
“No. Stop changing the subject, Mum. India? With your fabric painting group?”
Mum hums. “I could use some of the settlement money from the divorce.”
“There you go. It would be a fantastic adventure. You’d be surrounded by friends, doing a hobby you enjoy, and you wouldn’t need to spare Dad or Molly a second thought.”
She pats my hand. “It’s a good idea, love. Thank you. I might do that.”
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