Chapter one - An offer you can't refuse

"What?"

"Washington."

"You mean Sunderland, right? Up near Newcastle?"

"No, Washington State, USA."

I swear I felt the gears grinding in my own head as it provided a very rough geographical location of said State. West coast rang a bell, but I wasn't 100 percent sure where exactly.

"But, why?"

I was beyond confused, overwhelmed with the information Marc was throwing my way. This was not what I was expecting when I walked into his office this morning.

"Think of it as a great opportunity for your career, Kate. You get the new site up and running and it-"

"Whoa hold the fuck up, Marc. I know I'm in project management, but this is way outside my expertise."

I saw a grimace grace his face momentarily at my language in office hours, but I was too pissed off to pay it much heed.

"This is why it could be good for you. You get more experience-" I cut him off again.

"Marc, my expertise is in the customer service side of things, that's where I want my career to go, not...this, whatever it is!" It sounded like some kind of glorified project management role.

I wanted to scream and kick something, or someone.

"What's this really about Marc?" I eyeballed him, seeing something akin to guilt showing in his eyes. "Tell me, I have a right to know." I stopped my pacing and threw my hands on my hips. I could see a myriad of emotions play across his features before resignation settled.

"Muller."

With that one word, a faint but noticeable dull roar started ringing in my ears. This could not be good.

"What do you mean Muller? What does she have to do with it?"

"She...she made an ultimatum in regards to the final contract sign off." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Right, OK. But what does that have to do with me?" Uh, definitely not good.

"Sheryl wasn't...happy...with what happened in Berlin. She felt some kind of… compensation was due to her."

"Wait, Berlin? I wasn't even on the team at that time! I'm the one who stepped in and bloody saved the deal from the mess that happened in Berlin. If it wasn't for me, we would have lost the whole fucking deal!". I was struggling to keep my voice to a whispered shout, mindful of Karen, Marc's nosey PA, twenty foot away beyond his closed office door.

"I know that, you know that, the whole company knows that Kate but-"

"But what Marc? Why am I being punished for Craig's cock up?! Why am I the one who gets tossed out to a back water town in the middle of fucking nowhere in another county for his mistake?! Do you know how many favours I had to pull in from other customers just to keep Muller happy after Craig promised her equipment allocated to other sites? He then just buggered off when he realised he couldn't deliver!"

I could feel the burn in the back of my eyes, I would not cry, later maybe, perhaps after I un-manned Craig for his part in this absolute fucking nightmare. A steely resolve entered Marc's eyes and his jaw tensed.

"Sheryl made it clear, if something wasn't done to rectify her perceived slight, she would not sign the contract. We all know how much this is worth to the company and management made a decision to placate the Muller group to retain the deal."

Sheryl Muller. Fucking bitch.

"So, she's blackmailing the company essentially because she doesn't like me? What the hell did I do to her?" I asked completely flummoxed. "Who else is being punished, or is it just me?"

"Frankly Kate, Sheryl is a complete psycho, you may have just looked at her funny for all I know." I could see he didn't truly believe that himself, but I knew Marc well enough that he would have told me if he knew for sure. He was right about one thing, she was a psycho, and evidently a powerful one at that.

"So, suddenly she has control over our internal policies and structure? A snap of her fingers and she can do whatever she likes?" I couldn't believe this, surely this wasn't legal?

"When it's the biggest deal this company has ever made, yes; she can."

I stood there in silence trying to process this all. I was being carted off to the arse end of nowhere all on the whim of some diva who decided she didn't like me.

"What if I don't agree to this?" I queried quietly. From the sudden stiffness in Marc's shoulders, I knew the answer before he opened his mouth.

"Termination."

"Under what clause?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, but HR would find something. But I assure you, I won't be apart of it." He looked up into my eyes and I could see his own fire burning at the injustice of it all.

"I could sue the company for this you know."

"I think they are banking on it not getting that far, and the amount of resources they have to fight if it went that route would far outweigh what you would have." The resignation in his voice shocked me. It was a done deal in his mind.

"So I don't have a choice?" I asked weakly.

"Not unless you want out of this field." So, there it was, take the offer, or find myself ostracized from the industry. How was this fair?

I felt sick all of a sudden and slumped into the nearest chair feeling my head drain of blood.

"Jesus Kate, are you OK? You've gone white as a sheet." Marc stood and quickly rounded his desk to kneel in front of me. I let out a huff of unamused laughter, not having the energy to do anything else but control the nausea welling in my stomach.

"What do you think Marc?" I buried my head in my hands, elbows on knees trying to fight off the urge to vomit over his carpet. I wanted to argue my case more but I knew Marc wasn't my target and I could even see the company's view too, even if I hated their decision and it wasn't right. It was, I suppose, the reason they had Marc tell me. I was less likely to go postal on him, than one of the spineless cretins in upper management.

"I know it's a lot to take in right now, and I'm sorry to do this to you Kate, I truly am, but we need your decision by end of play on Monday." I lifted my head and this time a more robust bark of laughter left my maw.

"Seriously? Four days to make this life changing decision? That's generous." The sickness in my belly was roiling with rising anger at this time constraint now hovering over my head. "Rich is off to Brussels this afternoon and not back to Wednesday, I can't make this decision without his input. This is completely insane!" I almost shouted, my composure at its limits.

"I know, it's shit and I can't tell you how sorry I am for everything Kate. Look, take the rest of today and Friday off, see if you can catch Richard to hash it out with him before he leaves."

My mind was reeling. Even if I caught Rich at home before his flight, did they really expect us to sort this out in one afternoon? What about the house, the mortgage, the bills, our future plans together, What a joke.

Now acutely aware of the rapidly draining hourglass now hanging over my head I shakily stood from my seat and turned towards the door.

"Kate, wait, here take this, it has all the info you need, give me a call if you need anything OK? I pushed to make this easier on you, I'm just sorry I couldn't stop it." He scoped up a thick folder from his desk and placed it in my shaking hands. He curled my fingers around its edges to secure it. The look in his eyes would have been heartbreaking if I wasn't so emotionally shot to pieces to deal with it.

"Kate, I'm so sorry." Marc's voice cracked on the last word. I gave him a tiny half smile which had no feeling behind it and continued to the door. I wasn't his fault, but I'd reached my limit at this point.

Standing outside Marc's office I was glad Karen wasn't there. The last thing I needed was her taking one look at my face and firing up the gossip mill with some bullshit. As it was, I leant back against the door and closed my eyes and took in a shaky lungful of stale office air. I gave myself a few moments to collect my thoughts, then pushed off to get back to my desk. By the time I had collected my coat and bag, I was a woman on a mission. If I could get the eleven AM train from London Waterloo, I could get home in an hour, and that would give me about 3 hours to speak to Richard.

It was both the longest and shortest train ride home I'd ever had. It wasn't long enough to even start to go through the paperwork of the 'proposal', and work out how to approach Rich. We both had good careers going for us, and together we had brought a lovely three bed house in the West side of outer London. The problem was that we couldn't afford the house and everything else with just his salary. If I lost my job I would struggle to get another in a different industry at the same money. We probably have to sell the house, move to a smaller two bed in a shittier area. I could feel the burn behind my eyes again and the constriction in my throat as my mind jumped to various options.

I closed the folder in my lap and stared out of the train window, not seeing the passing suburbs of London as my mind swiftly laid out the possible outcomes of this news.

If I refused to take the 'offer' I would lose my job, we would be forced to downgrade, putting our lives on hold.

If I took the offer, and if Rich could come with me somehow, we could have our plans, but just in another country. Maybe.

If I took the offer and Rich couldn't come with me, what did that mean for our relationship?

This was big, I could feel my chest constricting. This was bigger than some petty workplace revenge, that bitch was out to destroy my life as I knew it, and for the life of me, I still didn't have an honest to God clue why.

I rubbed my hands across my face feeling a tension headache brewing with a vengeance behind my eyes. I was momentarily surprised to find my palms were wet with tears as I pulled my hands away. Sucking in a deep breath I reopened the folder on my lap and tried to make sense of what I'd be facing.

On the surface, it was your standard relocation package. I immediately saw however, Marc's influence. I guess someone in upper management had some kind of humanity as the more I read, the more I saw that wasn't standard at all, you could even say it was highly generous. I guess my work on the Muller project didn't go completely unnoticed, even if the third party saw it differently.

My company, Equinox Medical Manufacturing, had it's American HQ in Seattle, but a new satellite office was being set up in a smaller city called Port Angeles. There was also a small manufacturing site being built and hour west of Port Angeles which was replacing another site of a competitor we had bought out. The two were to be linked together and it would be my job to make that happen as smoothly as possible by managing the office element.

As part of the package, I would have the keys to a house leased by the business, rent free, a new company car, highly spec benefits including all the healthcare insurance one would need for America, plus a jump in my basic salary. Like, a massive jump. I frowned and reread the figures. Surely that couldn't be right? I balanced the papers on my lap and dug my phone out of my bag, dialing Marc as soon as the screen was unlocked.

"Marc Evan's office-"

"Karen, it's Kate, I need to speak to Marc urgently please."

"Hi Kate, one moment, I'll put you through."

"Hello Kate-"

"Is this figure correct?" I blurted out. Marc paused, I guess to catch up to where my mind was at.

"If you mean the salary, yes, that's not a typo."

"Holy fuck. Marc, if this is the salary for this job, I'm in way over my head, I-"

"I wouldn't have pushed for this if I didn't think you were capable." I could hear a smile in his voice. "Seriously, it's also compensation for you for this upheaval. I wasn't going to let you go without fighting for you Kate. As I said earlier, we all know what you did for the company, I wasn't going to let them forget that. You know I've always got your back."

I felt my composure crack at the sincerity in his voice. After working up the company together for eight years, and him being only a few years older than my 27 years, we had a strong bond with each other, he was my best mate. The other reality hit me at that moment that, whichever way this panned out, I'd also miss working with Marc. The swell of grief in my chest was more intense than anticipated.

I gulped and chewed my lower lip to try and keep the tears at bay. "Thank you Marc. I'm… I… thank you."

"Ssh, it's OK" I could hear the emotion in his voice. "I know it's a big change, for both you and Richard, just… just make sure you cover everything before making your decision. OK?"

"...K". I sniffed unattractively and wiped a couple of rogue tears off my cheek.

"If it helps you, the...I'm also looking to make the move as well." My head shot up as his words.

"What, they're out to get you too?!"

"No Kate, I made it very clear to them when discussing this that I wasn't happy with you taking the fall for Berlin. I put it out there that if they forced you out of the company I would go too. That's when the suggestion of relocating you came up as an alternative solution. Not only do the board get to keep Muller happy, they get to keep you, albeit it almost five thousand miles away. You are an asset to this company Kate, they just needed to be reminded of the fact. The more we spoke about it, the more intriguing it sounded to me. So, that's why you need to consider this carefully. I know it's not the best way this came about but it's a great offer for you regardless of the circumstances."

I could hear the force of his conviction in his tone, and there was something else I couldn't quite nail down in my emotional turmoil. It was almost like he was pushing me to pursue this. Marc was single, I could see why something like this could appeal to him, but I had more baggage in my life to consider. However, I couldn't help the surge of gratitude that Marc had argued my case, more intensely that I'd first considered. It wasn't often you had someone risking their job for yours.

"I'm nearly at my stop, I have to go. Thank you Marc, for everything." I hastily gathered my documents, stuffing them haphazardly back into their sleeve as I made to grab my belongings.

"No problem Kate. Call me if you need to, even if it's just to talk."

"I will, thanks again."

"Good luck sweetheart." He said softly, before the line disconnected.

The endearment caught me off guard and I stared at my phone for a second. A jerk in the motion of the train caught my attention and I stood quickly to make my way to the carriage door.

It was raining as I alighted the train, cursing that in my haste to leave the office I'd left my umbrella under my desk. It wasn't heavy, but in my ten minute brisk walk home it had seeped into my coat and hair making me hot and clammy.

Thankfully Richard's car was on the drive as I walked up. Knowing he was taking it to Heathrow it was a good indicator he was still home. I fished my keys out of my bag and shoved them quickly into the door lock. Once in I powered up the stairs to get changed out of my damp clothes and to find Rich.

And that's when this horrendous day took a turn for the worse.

There, in our bed, was my boyfriend, the love of my life, my future husband and father of my unborn children, balls deep in another woman.

The thought that my morning was the better half of my day flitted through my mind as I silently took in the scene before me. I nearly laughed at that. Nearly, my first reaction was a little more subdued.

"Rich?"

If it wasn't such a fucking devastating turn of events, I may have found their reactions interesting, if not comical. I could see the moment they both tensed, her eyes flying open locking with mine, hands still clamped to Richard's arse cheeks. Richard's head swung round so fast my first thought was of Linda Blair in The Exorcist. I saw the moment his face drained of colour, and I could almost count the number of excuses skittering around his brain as he instinctively went on the defensive. I also saw the moment his brain caught up with his position and resignation coloured his tone as a single 'fuck' was muttered out of his lips.

Yeah, fuck. That pretty much covers it.

I'd lost the power of speech by that point, and turned on my heels and made my way back down the stairs. I would have liked to have made some witty remark, or maybe have had the balls to throw something at them both, but the shock had flooded my brain, and on top of my shitty morning, I just couldn't function.

I staggered my way to the sofa, vaguely aware of a discarded shirt of Richard's on the coffee table. Next to me on the sofa was a bright pink bra that was not mine.

Absolute rage coursed through my veins at that moment. Not only had they desecrated the bed we shared, but the rest of our house too, my home, my sanctuary, with their actions.

I could hear them moving around upstairs, getting dressed no doubt. I could hear their voices increasing in volume before all out screaming and shouting occurred. I turned my head in time to see the blonde storm down the stairs half dressed. She stepped into the living room and her steps faltered for a fraction of a second as she saw where I was.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know he was with someone, he said this was his sister's house he was house sitting for." She rushed out as she snatched up her bra and stuffed her feet into her heels I hadn't noticed by the side of the coffee table. "I'm sorry, honestly I didn't know." She all but pleaded with me.

I remained mute as Richard made his undignified descent down the stairs, hands already up in front of him in a placating gesture that riled me up further.

"Love, I'm sorry, it was a one time thing, I'm sorry it didn't mean anything I-"

"You fucking liar, we've been hooking up for the past three months-" the blonde retorted, her tone now coloured with the realisation she had been played for a fool as well.

"She's lying, love, don't believe her." Richard begged.

The blonde turned to me and from the look in her eyes I knew she was telling the truth.

"I'm not, seriously. If I had known, I wouldn't have taken this further. I better go." She sent one last scathing look at Richard before turning on her heels and leaving the room. "Lose my number dickhead." was her parting shot to Richard before she firmly closed the front door behind her.

"Kate, love-"

I put my hand up to him, stopping him in his tracks.

"Was she the only one?" I said, not meeting his eyes. I couldn't look at him at that moment.

Richard paused, then sank down on the armchair to the left of my position. He leaned back and flung his left arm across his face and heaved out a big sigh.

"No."

I sucked in a sharp breath, squeezed my eyes shut and balled my hands into fists, feeling the pinch of my nails digging into my palms.

"How long have you been cheating on me?" I choked on the words.

"Long enough-"

"How long?" I said with more steel in my tone.

"About a year."

A year, a fucking year. Oh God.

"Did you use protection?" My stomach churned.

"They were on the pill-"

"For fuck sake Richard!" I screamed at him, making him jump in his seat. "You put both our healths at risk if you didn't wrap your dick you fucking moron!"

The combination of his face both blushing from his embarrassment and draining of colour as he realised the consequences of his actions would have been a sight to behold if my vision had been clear. A mist of red rage had rapidly descended the moment he opened his mouth.

"You need to leave."

"Babe, I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I swear-"

"GET OUT!" I screeched at him. In our five years together I had never raised my voice to him like that. He froze for a moment, then swiftly left the room.

I stayed motionless in my seat as I listened to the sound of Richard gathering his things. I lost track of time until he came down the stairs, dressed for work carrying his suitcase.

"I'll...um… be at Mum's once I get back from Brussels." he muttered.

I didn't react. I couldn't react. After more tense moments of me being motionless, I heard him sigh again and leave the house, closing the front door softly. I counted the seconds as he unlocked his car and open the boot. More seconds as the boot door closed and the driver's door open and closed. It took him fifteen more seconds of just sitting in the driver's seat before he finally started the car and reversed out of the driveway.

I glanced at the clock above the fireplace. 12:26. 16 minutes from my walking in the door to Richard walking out.

I looked down at my hands, still balled into fists. I had to make a conscious effort to relax my tendons to release my grip. I was still wearing my damp coat with my bag across my shoulder, my hair was frizzy from the rain, and the folder I was holding had landed on the floor next to the sofa where I had dropped it.

I was numb. As fast at the rage had boiled up in my veins, as soon as the door had closed on Richard, it dissipated like cigarette smoke in a strong wind. I felt shaky again, and before I could comprehend my actions, I launched myself to my feet and ran to the downstairs cloakroom to evacuate my stomach contents.

I stayed in the cloakroom for around an hour, I wasn't sick again, but I just couldn't get my brain to function, or to even stay on one thought long enough to muster any kind of reaction to it. Eventually the need to pee broke my haze, and whilst relieving myself, the thought of Richard's monumental stupidity roared into my mind. The anger bubbled up once more as I seethed on his disrespect to me by risking my health. That anger finally brought me out of my numbness and I made my way into the living room again to fire up my laptop.

Ten minutes later, and with the location of the nearest walk in health centre in my hand, I left the house.

Three hours, multiple swabs, blood tests and peeing into cups after that, I arrived home with a shopping bag full of chocolate, ice cream and more chocolate. I found a bottle of cheap champagne in the fridge (saved for a special occasion, ha!) and proceeded to drown my sorrows and eat my feelings in front of reruns of Mythbusters.

It was during my third glass of champagne, I picked the folder Marc had given me. With time on my hands, and Richard forcing my hand with one of my scenarios, what better time than now to read this all properly.

It was around 7pm by the time I had consumed the information and I now here I sat mulling over everything I had read. I could see why Marc was intrigued with it, and under better circumstances, and if I was that type of person, I could see why it was an amazing opportunity. However, I wasn't that type of person. I was a homebody. I liked my stability, I never had any craving to up sticks and have a job that involves travelling. Even the odd few forays to Germany and France over the years stressed me out, I was glad it was never a regular thing. I never understood what Richard saw in the constant travelling. I guess this wasn't quite the same, I mean for work to provide a house made it appear a more long term thing. I didn't, however, see any indication of how long this transfer was expected to be for.

I glanced up at the clock, it was early enough that Marc should still be in the office. I dived over the remains of my ice cream dinner and grabbed my phone, dialling his office number. As Karen had no doubt gone home, it redirected to his desk, and after half a dozen rings, Marc picked up.

"Good evening, Marc Evans speaking."

"Hi Marc, it's Kate, are you busy?"

"Hey sweetheart, I'm free to talk, what's up?"

"Um, I was just going through the details again. I noticed there's no time frame for this. It's not permanent is it?" My heart sped up at the thought of being away from the UK permanently.

"No, it's...well it will depend on how quickly the offices get up and running and amalgamate with the new warehousing and manufacturing plant. I don't think it's specifically permanent, I think it's a possible option for the role to develop to become long term. But initially it's going to be 12 to 18 months minimum." He reeled off, all business like.

"OK." I mused, my mind running over the thought of being in another country for a year.

"Have you spoken to Richard yet?" Marc enquired. He sounded reluctant to mention his name. If only he knew.

"We...I didn't get a chance to speak to him properly." I hedged, not really wanting to open that can of worms. It was too early to process the impact of what had happened earlier. I knew it wouldn't be healthy to let it fester but I really wanted to sleep on it before having my complete melt down. I was going to enjoy this numbness while it lasted.

"As I said, it's a big decision Kate, you really need to talk this through with him-"

"I know Marc." I snapped. The drink and my wearing day shortening my temper. I took a deep breath. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that, it's just been a trying day." and you don't know the half of it Marc… I thought.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm just worried as I can't get the deadline extended for you. I've been all over management and HR today, trying to get them to see reason. I know you aren't married and have no kids yet…" I sucked in a quiet hiccup at his comment "... but it is still a massive decision to make for you both."

Maybe the drink on top of the overwhelming amount of information plowed into my brain today wasn't conducive to weighing up my options, I needed his opinion on this.

"What would you do Marc, if you were in my position?"

He was silent for a long moment, enough that I pulled my phone from my ear to check the call hadn't dropped.

"Honestly, I would take it." He said calmly.

"Even if you had a girlfriend at home, future plans? A house? Responsibilities?"

"Well minus the girlfriend, I do have plans, and my house and responsibilities, and yes, I would still take it." He let out a frustrated sigh "I know it's not comparable, our situations are different, and we are different people, but regardless of the shitstorm surrounding this, I actually think it's a once in a lifetime chance, and I would hope Richard sees that and doesn't hold you back from your potential Kate."

There he goes again. I never saw it clearly before, but Marc always boosts my self esteem in the most subtle of ways. I cracked a tiny, genuine smile for the first time today.

"I know." I lost my train of thought then, but didn't want to end the call.

"Look, I found out the reason for the deadline being so short is because we are signing the final draft of the Muller contract on Tuesday, your decision being critical for that to happen as you know, but there's also a meeting on Friday with some locals from Washington to go over elements of the contract we have with them regarding the new plant west of Port Angeles."

I frowned at his word. "What do you mean, what contract?" I ruffled through the folder, positive that I hadn't come across that bit.

"It was at the back, details of the land and employment contract for the Quileute Tribe."

"The who?" My buzz from the alcohol was fading as I wedged my phone between my shoulder and ear and used both hands to rumage. I hated walking into things without the full details. I knocked a sheet of paper to the floor and as I bent to recover it, I noticed a thin bundle of papers that had slipped under the sofa from earlier.

"Oh, hang on, I dropped the folder, I found a bit I missed." I called out to Marc as I started to speed read the first page."

"Well, I'll give you the cliff notes, you can read the rest later. The Quileutes are a Native American Tribe based in the Pacific Northwest. Our American office brokered a deal with them to build the manufacturing plant on their land in exchange for money, obviously, but for employment rights for their Tribe. There's a high unemployment rate in the area and their Tribal Council are working with the government to encourage business to set up on their land in exchange for jobs for the locals."

"Ok that sounds interesting." I mused "It certainly changes the way the employment of new staff will work with the new sites." I vaguely worried about discrimination rights in the workplace, but figured the legal bods here and in the States would know more than I would and have that covered. "So what's the meeting about on Friday then?"

"The head of the Tribe, and a couple of their Council members, Elders I think they call them, are coming to London to speak to the team who are heading up the whole project. So, if you are in, you'll be part of that meeting." Marc finished.

"Wait, why are they coming to London? Surely most of the team is in the States already, wouldn't it make more sense to be more local."

Marc was silent for a beat then…

"Well, you remember I mentioned earlier that I was looking at this too. I'd accepted on Monday."

A friend. It was the first thought that rose in my head. If Marc was there, I wouldn't be on my own.

"Kate? You still there?" I could hear the worry in his voice. "Sorry I didn't mention it, I didn't want to influence you."

"Er, yeah, still here, I just wasn't expecting that." I took a swig of champagne to wet my drying mouth. "When do you leave?" I asked.

"Not for another month. The company is going to put me in touch with a lettings agency to help me sort out the house. They also have a specialist department to help people who move abroad to get their life organised. It's helpful to have that, but it's still going to take time to get it all organised…." He trailed off.

"Oh." A month, a month left with Marc. It felt like my world had been turned upside down. It was one thing to have my decision to rest on my shoulders, but having Marc make his own made me feel like I wasn't in control of this. He had taken himself out of my life willingly, rather than having his hand forced like I had. I didn't quite know how to feel about that.

"Look, I need to go. Remember, you are off tomorrow, use the day, and the weekend wisely, and we'll catch up on Monday. You can still ring me OK? Whenever you need to. You have my personal number if you need me on the weekend. I'd suggest getting a notepad and start jotting any questions down that come into your head, then we can go through them together."

I nodded, then realising he couldn't see me, spoke up. "Yeah, sure, good idea. Well, OK, I'll let you go, speak to you soon. Night Marc."

"'Night Kate, sleep well." He disconnected the call.

OK so that was an interesting turn of events. I gnawed at my thumb as I rehashed the conversation. I stared back down at the Quileute info and flicked through the pages. It didn't change much in the role I was being offered/forced into, but I knew not to discount it completely. Marc would not have added this into the folder without good reason. One good reason was the meeting a week tomorrow with the locals, the fact they were coming all the way to the UK was strange but, as I didn't have the full story, I could only assume there was more than I was privy to. I guess if/once I accepted, I would be brought fully up to speed.

I rubbed my fingers over my eyes. "What a fucking day." I murmured to myself. I glanced up at the clock again. It was only half 8 but felt like the longest day known to man. I sighed and gathered up the papers, stacking it neatly together again in the folder. Grabbing my phone, I left everything else on the coffee table and sofa and made my way upstairs.

Standing in the doorway of our bedroom, I couldn't help the lurching of my stomach muscles as I surveyed the bed. Fucker didn't have the decency to make the bed, let alone change the sheets. I huffed in disgust and marched over the side to retrieve clean clothes and my nightwear from the chest of drawers. Making sure I had all I needed, including my phone charger, I left the room, closing the door behind me and made my way to the spare room. I would not deal with that tonight.

I took a long shower, but no matter how much I scrubbed, I never quite felt clean, and I felt my anger rising again at Richard for making me feel like that. I could only hope I would get the results back quickly from the sexual health clinic.

At 9:10pm I fell into bed in the spare room. I was fully expecting to either cry myself into oblivion, or spend my night staring at the ceiling, but the earlier rage from the shower had left me again, and I was back to the numbness. I made one last check to my phone to set the alarm, but remembering that I wasn't going into work tomorrow, I opted to turn it off. I paused as I set my phone down, picking it back up and proceed to power it down completely.

I would deal with this tomorrow. And with that last thought I slipped into sleep.