Genuine disappointment filled her and she opened the door and her arms. “Oh, shit. You’ve got your period. I’m sorry, Lib.”
Libby brought her elbows up, knocking Jess’s arms aside. “I don’t think you’re sorry one little bit.”
The action and accusation stung. Jess had spent hours listening to Libby’s pain and sadness over losing Dom and her failure to conceive again. “Of course I am. I know how gutted you are every time you get your period. Sit down and I’ll make tea.”
“I don’t want a bloody cup of tea.”
It didn’t happen often, but occasionally Libby’s practical and scientific mind went into full-on drama queen mode. It was usually connected to the girls and to a lesser extent Nick when he’d dropped the ball and wasn’t world’s best husband, but today it was the disappointment she wasn’t pregnant. When this version of Libby appeared, experience had taught Jess it was best just to let her vent.
“Coffee then? It’s a bit early for a drink. Don’t want to be the stereotypical single mother who has her kid in the car and gets nailed for being over the legal limit,” she said.
“Nothing about you comes close to being a stereotype.”
Normally, Jess would have basked in her friend’s admiration, but today there was no way Libby’s words could be construed as a compliment. A niggle of unease made Jess examine their earlier phone call, searching for clues, but the only thing she came up with was Libby had sounded slightly distracted. For the previous year, Libby had been obsessed with having another baby. Once, when Nick had been replacing faucet washers, Jess had managed to draw him out on his feelings about another child.
“I think we should accept it’s not going to happen and move on.”
Jess had almost cried in relief. As much as she understood Libby’s desire for a son of her own, Jess didn’t want another baby drawing Nick’s attention away from her and Leo. As it was, it took all her energy to keep hold of the small share of him she’d managed to carve out.
Jess flicked on the kettle and lifted two mugs from their hooks.
Libby’s hands gripped the back of a kitchen chair. “Nick told me Leo is his.”
Like an Arctic chill, a tingle swooped Jess from head to toe. The mugs slipped from her numb fingers, hitting the floor and shattering. A tiny part of her brain prompted her to pick up the scattered shards but her body refused to move a muscle. Her mind scrambled frantically to the early days after Leo’s birth, when Libby had flown up to Sydney on her own for a quick visit. In anticipation, Jess had written a script just in case Libby caught on to Nick being Leo’s father. But when Libby had gazed down at Jess’s son, all she’d said was, “He’s got your nose! He’s utterly perfect. I’m so happy for you.”
When Jess had moved to the bay, the script was still on hand, but as the weeks and months passed, she’d discarded it as obsolete. Libby didn’t suspect a thing and Jess had done everything she could to keep it that way and protect their friendship.
But now her best friend’s face was contorted in vicious hatred and rage.
“You lying, cheating bitch! You told me you used donor sperm to have Leo.”
“I did.”
“Nick’s not a sperm donor.”
“We share each other’s stuff all the time. I just borrowed a part of him.”
“He’s my husband!” Libby screamed and Jess’s heart galloped. She scrambled to remember the words and phrases she’d worked so hard to develop in case this situation ever eventuated. Words that would make Libby understand that this was just another facet of their very close friendship.
“I know it’s a shock, but you have to know I’d never deliberately hurt you.”
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Libby’s hand hit the table. “You’ve been having sex with my husband!”
“That’s no—”
“What would you call it then? An accident? His dick just happened to slide inside you and knock you up?”
“I’m just trying to give you some context—”
“There is no context! There’s no possible excuse for my best friend to sleep with my husband.”
Jess’s calm snapped. “This isn’t all on me, Libby. Nick’s involved too.”
Libby made a strangled sound—half cry, half scream. “But you didn’t say no. You were supposed to say no. Take the moral high ground. Tell him that friends don’t betray each other.”
The beat of an old betrayal resumed its tempo. “I’d already slept with you so I was just evening the score.”
“Oh my God! How can you possibly think that a drunken experiment at twenty equates to this—this—treachery. You had sex with my husband!”
Libby’s constant use of “my husband,” as if she owned Nick, slithered along Jess’s veins like a snake ready to strike. “I had sex with my friend. A man I’ve known a lot longer than you.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to sleep with him!”
“Why not? It’s called friends with benefits. We’d been having sex long before you and Nick ever did.”
The shock on Libby’s face told her that Nick hadn’t disclosed that bit of information. Jess wished she knew exactly what he’d shared and what he’d withheld. More importantly, she wished she knew why he’d broken his own rule and told Libby at all. And why today, when they were so close to making their lives easier and securing Leo’s future? Frigid fury formed an icy ball in her gut. How could Nick have betrayed her by telling Libby about their son without her being in the room?
“You’ve never told me about you and Nick,” Libby finally spluttered.
“Well, we both have our secrets about Nick, don’t we?”
“Not me! I’m an open book. The secrets are all yours. All I’ve ever done is love you. God! My family’s looked after you.”
Jess sloughed away a pang of remorse. “Growing
