The Story of Me (Carnage #2)(79)
“You were a mess the last time I was in that flat. You really scared me.”
He nods his head. “I was. I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”
“I’m sorry I made you feel you had to get like that.” I want to go to him and show him how sorry I am, but I stay where I am. “What happened? Did your brother get you the help you needed?”
He nods slowly. “I was a mess for about six months. I was off the drugs but suffering from depression. I just couldn’t function and you seemed to be everywhere. Every time I turned on the telly, opened the paper or a magazine, there was a story about you and your amazing love story and I just felt like I couldn’t escape it.” I cover my mouth to try and hold in a sob.
“I’m so sorry, Tiger, I treated you appallingly. You were so good to me. You put me back together and I just walked back to the man who broke me.” He folds his arms across his chest and shrugs.
“That’s why I need to be sure this time. I can’t let that happen again. I’m in too far now. End of the day, Kitten, I’m always gonna love ya, no matter what happens between us. It just hurt so much before coz I thought we were good. I thought I had it all worked out and we’d be together. I just never realised that I was inconsequential to you once he was back on the scene.”
I ache. My throat, my chest, my insides ache. I’ve been there. I know the agony of being left and I hate that I was guilty for making him feel like that, that I caused him that much pain.
I wipe my eyes on the back of my hand.
“Do we stand a chance do you think? Will you ever be able to forgive me for what happened back then?” He shakes his head and I feel like the floor has been pulled away from me.
“I’ve already told you I don’t know. We can try, Kitten. That’s all we can do.” I nod.
“I need to ask you something. If the baby’s yours, what will you do?”
“I haven’t got a f*cking clue. I can’t look after a kid with my lifestyle, my work, and she certainly can’t.” He finishes his drink and then pours the last of the bottle into his glass. “Tamara’s just two years older than you. I’ve known her since she was eighteen. We were at some charity dinner thing. We spent the night together and that was it. She was just starting out as a model and she was doing some television presenting, and for a while, she was gonna be the next big thing.”
“She’s the redhead, the one I’ve seen you out with a couple of times,” I interrupt him.
“Yeah, yeah, she was a good-looking girl when she was younger. We always worked together coz she didn’t want anything more than a f*ck. That’s all it’s ever been; that’s all it ever was for me. Then when she was about twenty-two. It started to become apparent that she wasn’t gonna make it as a model. She went a bit off the rails and I didn’t see her for a few years. Then we bumped into each other about two and a half years ago and we’ve just got together every now and then since, just for a f*ck, or if either of us needed a date for an event, we got together, no strings.” He takes a sip of his wine and looks down at his glass, as though he’s thinking about what to say next. “I always thought she was happy with that set up. She never mentioned that she wanted more. She’s a nice enough girl, good looking, nicely turned out, never wanted anything. Then, within about a month of us bumping back into each other, I noticed she was becoming needy, clingy and a bit erratic.” He looks at me and shrugs. “I don’t bring birds back to my place, Georgia. I’m quite a private person. It’s either a hotel or their place, and apart from my wife, you’ve been the only exception to that rule.”
I’m not sure if his statement makes me feel better or worse. I drain my glass and look at him across the top of it. Without saying anymore, he gets up to go and get another bottle from the fridge and tops me up.
“Anyway, I did a bit of digging and found out she had a habit, an expensive habit. I tried to help her out. I’ve been there. I felt sorry for her so I paid off her debts and paid for her rehab.” He shrugs as he seems to be thinking about this. “Again, I didn’t hear from her, except the odd phone call or text for a couple of months once she’d straightened herself out, then she turned up at my club opening in Ibiza in August. We went to a hotel and f*cked, and next thing I hear from her is that she’s pregnant and the baby’s mine. It was also apparent that she was well and truly off the wagon. I didn’t know what to do at first. I didn’t believe her, about the baby I mean, so I went with her to the doctors and then for a scan and all the dates match up, so like I said, I got her on a program. They seemed to think she’d been taking worse shit than coke, probably heroin, but they straightened her out and everything seems to be okay with the baby, but we won’t know for sure until he’s born.”
My head fly’s up at that news. “A boy, you’re having a son?” I hate her. This woman I don’t know, who’s gonna have something I never will, something she doesn’t deserve.
“I don’t know that I’m having anything yet, George. There’s ways of testing from inside the womb, but she’s all over the place so I don’t wanna rock the boat. She’s unstable enough as it is. So anyway, I’m paying for a flat and a nurse, a minder. I buy her shopping and pay her medical bills so she can afford to see the best doctors.” He shrugs. “If the baby’s not mine, then I’ll make sure the right people get involved to make sure the kid’s safe, but that’ll be it. If the kid’s mine,” he pauses and shrugs again, “I haven’t got a Scooby what I’ll do. No idea, but he’ll be with me. One way or the other, I’ll find a way to have the baby with me, and you need to know that. You need to understand that. If the baby turns out to be mine, I will fight for custody of him.”