Jilly was torn. Part of her wanted to contact Matthew but the other part of her knew there was no point. What would he want with her now? She’d thrown away her perfectly good job. She’d made a fool of herself and gotten escorted out of the building by the big boss himself. A highly successful, handsome, desirable man like Matthew wouldn’t be interested in her anymore—an unemployed, soon-to-be-homeless, single mother. She had nothing to offer him. He would be just like Cameron. She would never hear from him again.
Not seeing Matthew broke her heart. Insomnia gnawed at her, tearing apart her tenuous grip on sanity, and when she finally did manage to drift off to sleep at night it was his face she saw in her dreams. She thought of the lunches they’d taken together, the possessive way he’d touched her back as they walked. The way he’d made her feel like she was the only woman in the world. She played them all back in her head like a movie reel, in great detail, careful not to leave anything out. The words he’d spoken echoed in her head. Not leaving you, not now, not ever. You are mine. I claimed you. Daddy’s not going anywhere. But where was he now? She’d believed those words when he’d said them, but now, nearly two weeks later, she took them for what they were: empty words. He’d made her feel so special, so cherished, so loved. She held tight to the memory of how he’d made her feel. Her memories were all she had left.
Every day it was getting harder and harder to drag herself out of bed. Taking Lily to school was the only reason she made the effort, and it was only her daughter’s smile in the mornings, and at the school gate in the afternoons, that kept her going. During the day, she slowly started packing their belongings up into boxes, fretting as she did so. Packing stuff away made it real. This was it: they really were leaving. After so many years of living in this house, they had to shift. This was the only home Lily had ever known. She felt like such a failure. Every day, Lily would look up at her with her big, beautiful blue eyes and ask did you find us a house today, Mama? And every day, Jilly would have to shake her head. No. Not yet, sweet-pea. Soon. Okay? Soon. I promise. And every time she said those words, her heart would clench with guilt because she knew she was making her daughter a promise that she couldn’t keep.
Jilly was numb. She took care of her daughter on autopilot, cooking for her, taking her to school, following her routine like a zombie. But her heart wasn’t in it. Her heart was back in the office of Hutchings & Associates with Matthew and she grieved the loss.
She couldn’t find the motivation to apply for a new job. She’d have to soon, she knew. But what was the point, when every single job application asked the same question: have you ever been fired from a job? What was she supposed to say to that? What could she put for the reason for leaving most recent employment? Who was she meant to give as a reference? She certainly couldn’t give Mr. Hutchings. Not if she actually wanted to find employment.
Every single day, multiple times a day, Jilly prayed for a miracle. For a job or a house to fall out of the sky. For Matthew to call. Or something. An entire week passed with no miracles. No job, no house. Jilly sighed. She’d have to call her parents.
Chapter Nine
“Why the hell wasn’t I told?” Matthew snarled down the phone line at his uncle. “I don’t care what I was doing; you had no right to keep that from me! That’s my little girl!” Matthew clenched his fists. It had been a long time since he’d been this angry. Where did his uncle get off, hiding stuff like that from him? Just because he was the defence lawyer in a high-profile murder trial did not mean he didn’t care what was happening to Jilly, and it was no reason to keep things hidden from him.
“It would have distracted you, son,” Mr. Hutchings explained, but Matthew didn’t care. He hurled his phone across the room, wincing at the probable damage as it hit the wall and bounced off, landing down behind the back of the piano. He’d have to get the broom and fish it out later.
“Distracted, my ass,” Matthew grumbled.
He poured himself a whisky. Downed it. Then another. As the strong brew burned his insides he slowly came to his senses. His uncle was right—it would have distracted him. But still... he wished he’d known. He could have at least phoned her, made sure she was okay, reminded her that he was still her daddy, and would still take care of her.
He poured a third drink. Why the hell hadn’t she told him herself? She’d had enough chances, he’d known something was bothering her and he’d asked her directly, more than once, and she still hadn’t said a word. Disappointment flooded him. Why had she chosen not to trust him? He shook his head sadly. That ex of hers must have really done a number on her. He’d have to go and see her in the morning.
It was really too cold to have the roof down on his Mercedes but he did it anyway, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the beat of Metallica blasting through the speakers as the cold wind flattened his hair. He knew that if he looked out to the left from where he was right now on the harbour bridge he could see the tall building where the Hutchings & Associates
