MORE THAN HE PAID FOR

Chapter 6: Cora

The fifty mile drive back to my apartment was a bit of a blur. The crisp blue skies and swaying trees had zero effect on my mood. The frown might as well have been carved into my forehead.

Screeching into a free parking slot, I have a small but critical list of jobs to complete.

I need to break up with Matt. Immediately.

Then I need to forget about Ash. Dark-eyed, tempting, panty-melting Ash.

Plus, I must, absolutely, very quickly stop replaying the way it felt when Ash took control and wrecked my body.

The fact I am still aching deliciously between my legs does not help my commitment to forgetting the guy. Nor the two glowing hickeys, one on each thigh.

Switching off the engine I stare down at the brown paper bag, tossed into the passenger seat, bought at the first general store I sped past.

If I go through with my plan, it’s a choice I can’t ever come back from.

But Matt texted me first. That pre-dawn ‘We need to talk’ waiting for me when I woke up has me shook up.

Why? Why would he message me those words on our anniversary? The more I thought about it, the more my stress built. What if Matt tries to take the moral high ground and break up with me?

I want to rain fire down upon his life. Ash happened, but only because I saw Matt cheat first. I check my cell.

JEN: Hey - of course you can take my spare room. Everything okay?

That message is the back-up I need. Let’s f*****g go. My kind, thoughtful friend will need all her listening skills for the tale coming her way tonight. I grab the brown bag and haul my ass up four flights of stairs to our one-bed apartment.

Two frantic hours later, I’m leaning on our cushioned window seat waiting for Matt. I’m dressed in my usual burgundy hoodie and jeans. Honey hair scooped up high. No make-up. The mid-range anniversary flowers that got delivered at 4pm went straight down the trash chute.

But two glasses of poured champagne wait in the fridge.

Mentally, I am stuck on a seesaw. Trying to pointlessly work out which guy had made me feel worse in the last twenty-four hours.

Matt by cheating on me three years into a relationship. Hinting at marriage and a future whilst treating me like dirt.

Or Ash, leaving me fifty thousand pounds but no cellphone number.

Both men have humiliated me. And I won’t stand for it a second longer.

Matt wanted me to be like the hotel girls he is f*****g. I’m not enough. All those little digs at my appearance. All the times he chose himself over me. Coming in drunk the night before an exam. I let myself be second best in my own life.

But Ash? I let myself get swept away. Some of my anger definitely comes from how easily I fell for it all. The game, the champagne, his body, the s*x. I just let my guard down.

So lost in a silly fantasy that I couldn’t see I was absolutely nothing to him, no matter how he rasped my name. Talked about wanting something real. I’m not so hurt I didn’t take the casino chips with me though. Not that I dared cash them in just yet.

The key turns in the door, my heart jolts into life.

I can still do this the normal way. Call him a cheating f**k and leave. My face must look so weird right now, half-smile, half-panic.

But Matt just opens the door and smiles wide. “Babe, you’re here! Happy anniversary! Did you find my baseball hat yet? Oh brilliant you cleaned!”

The plan is one hundred percent going ahead.

I accepted a kiss on the cheek from him. He’s freshly showered, wearing sweats and a baggy shirt. I notice the withering look my hoodie gets from his steel-coloured eyes.

“Sorry, no hat yet. But I picked up some bubbles for our anniversary!.”

He takes the glass without hesitation, immediately heading over to the lounge area to switch business news onto the television. I think it makes him feel like some CEO.

But it allows me to grab his laptop bag and cellphone, placing them near the front door.

His back to me, Matt shouts. “Thanks for being okay with take-out tonight. Those work meetings, they always leave me beat, you know?”

“I bet they do, you work too hard.”

“Thanks babe. You’re a doll, I’ll order the takeout in an hour or two, yeah? Chinese?”

“Maybe get someone else to do the Friday night next time?” I smile sweetly, watching him take a long swig of the champagne. “Is that what you meant when you said we needed to talk?”

I need to know. He spins to face me, his smile awkward. “No, no. The Friday’s are good. Shows commitment. That text wasn’t for you babe, did I not text an apology over?”

Now I get to imagine him laid in bed with his pretty mistress, naked and sweating, making a show of texting me. Promising her he’s breaking up with me, showing willing with a text that’s usually spells the end. I feel sick. I’m too warm, yet shaking. Tucking my hair behind my ears, my arms cross, finding comfort in the baggy hoodie material.

Matt comes over and wraps his arms around me. The bear hug I used to live for. “You want me promoted don’t you? Bigger better everything for us?”

“What about when my exams are over? Maybe I’ll be the breadwinner-”

Matt laughs, then releases me and flops onto the sofa. “You’re funny babe.”

I walk over to the front door, taking Matt’s keys out of the bowl where he always leaves them.

That’s everything I need.

“Okay then, I’ll be heading out now,”

Matt barely registers, sitting deep in the corner sofa, finishing his glass of champagne. I can only see the back of his ashy-blonde head. Those broad shoulders. Everything I used to love coming home to.

“So…in about twenty minutes you’re going to feel pretty rough.”

“What’s that?”

“That will be all the laxatives. In your champagne. Quite a big dose. Not fatal though!”

“Wait, Cora? What-”

“You cheating fucker. Hotel Belmont? Seven o’clock business meeting with some girl in a red mini-dress? Ring any bells?”

Now I have his attention. He’s still on the sofa but his head is twisted like a damn owl, steel eyes wide, mouth dropping.

“You’ve got it wrong-”

“I saw you kissing. I saw you leave with her. Happy anniversary you piece of s**t. Never contact me again. I’ve left a note with all the information you might need,” tossing a sheet of A4 into the air before slamming the door behind me. Locking the door the shaking of my hands only gets worse.

“Wait, Cora! No! You don’t understand!”

I let out a deep breath and say nothing.

“CORA ARE YOU f*****g KIDDING ME!”

I should be crying, but a smile breaks out instead. I slump against the wall, facing our door, listening to his protests as he slowly realises the horror of his situation.

“WHERE’S MY CELL!”

“YOU TOOK ALL THE TOILET PAPER? TOWELS? WHAT THE f**k!”

“WHY IS THERE ONLY PRUNE JUICE AND CABBAGE IN THE FRIDGE? CORA! CORA!”

There is a thud as he tries charging through the front door.

He’s trapped. Four floors up. No way to call anyone. The intercom disabled. The fridge, bathroom and wardrobes completely empty. He’s only going to have the shitty clothes he’s standing in and no way out.

My best guess is once he’s finished soiling himself, he’ll maybe break a window, shimmy down the fire escape? He’s got work on Monday after all.

But he’s got to get through at least a day of stomach cramps and living on the lavatory first.

Maybe it’s harsh. I have medication with me to reverse the laxatives. Just in case I changed my mind. But when Matt shouts through the door, “You would have found out sooner if you hadn’t had your dopey head in those books the whole time! Tanya will come and get me, don’t you worry about that! I’ll be just fine, Cora. Three years f*****g wasted!”

“Couldn’t agree more,” I murmured back, standing up and dusting myself down.

I shove the medication down the trash chute and head down the stairs, sliding notes under our neighbours doors to ignore the racket, we’re just having some renovations done and to apologise for any inconvenience.

Climbing into the car, I should feel triumphant. I’ve got revenge on a cheat. I’ve stood up for myself. Independent woman and all that jazz. Rather than update my social media status, I quickly delete every app.

I’m so done. With everything I thought I had built with Matt.

I know Jen, her long black hair and big brown eyes will be stunned when I tell her. She’ll call me a queen, a fighter. Brave and fierce. We’ll laugh and probably drink some wine.

Speeding off towards my best friends apartment, in the back of my mind, I’m still thinking about Ash. Still wondering what part of the night made him so determined to leave without a trace.