Read His Other Lover for Free Online Page B

Hundreds, maybe thousands?
    “Do you love me?” I whispered.
    He reached out for my hand and murmured, “Do you even have to ask?” Then he rolled over. Thrilling head to toe, I snuggled into his back. He fell asleep quickly. I, however, didn’t. I’dleft the heating on too long and my mouth was dry. I needed a drink of water.
    Getting up quietly, I tiptoed into the hall to go down to the kitchen. I didn’t want to wake Pete, but that object was defeated as I noisily tripped over something lying on the floor by the stairs. It lit up and I realized it was his mobile, charging. Panicking that I’d broken it, I picked it up and peered anxiously at the screen. Thankfully it wasn’t cracked. It was, however, very clearly displaying:
    New Message: Liz

FIVE
    I carry my steaming mug of milk into the cold, still sitting room and perch on the edge of the sofa in the dark. It’s burning my hands slightly and as I raise it to my mouth, trying not to breathe in the smell of the liquid, the first touch of it scalds my dry lips. I have to pull away sharply, setting the cup quickly down on the carpet to cool. I put my head in my hands and massage my temples tiredly. I can feel the heat of my fingers and the sharp edge of one slightly too long nail as it digs into my skin. Was it really only last night that I was down here, having tripped over his phone? It feels like that happened an age ago. I can see myself now, confusedly picking up the phone and staring at the screen reading “New Message: Liz,” and the information just not computing.
    My first thought had innocently been, Why on earth was a client texting him so late at night? It must be an emergency.
    But Pete is an architect, not a banker brokering a deal or a doctor on call. There was, of course, absolutely no reason why a client should be contacting him that late on a Sunday night.
    All the same, I had stood there for a moment in the dark and wondered, Should I go and tell him so he could take a look?
    But he was tired, I didn’t want to have to disturb him. I decided I’d open it and if it was that important I’d wake him up.
    I clicked open and read:
    Don’t worry! U can get me another one can’t U?! Same brown?! was v v v sweet of you tho. Night night xx
    And in that split second, it was as if the room flipped upside down and shrunk all at the same time. An instinctive chill crept across my shoulders like someone had draped a cold, damp towel round me. My heart did an extra thump thump.
    Get her what in the same brown? Night night? And kisses?
    My brain couldn’t seem to catch up and work fast enough, I just stared at the type dully. Finally my fingers got fed up with waiting and darted to his inbox. I stood there, wearing just knickers and one of his old T-shirts, with the neon screen lighting up my face as I started to scrawl through names that I mostly didn’t recognize, apart from my own.
    An icy, bony hand clutched around my heart and squeezed tightly as I saw “Liz” roll into view.
    With shallow breath, I opened it. It simply read:
    Can’t now xx
    I scrolled through some more names and there was Liz again:
    On way, running late, will be there xx
    Hurriedly I rolled through the rest of the list, my eyes darting to her name again:
    I do too xx
    And with that, my legs suddenly turned into hollow bendy tubes under me that wouldn’t support my weight. I wobbled over to the stairs, not taking my eyes off the small screen, and sat down heavily. My throat had started to constrict. I could hear my own heart pounding like waves in my chest and blood crashing in my ears.
    I desperately clicked on some other names. In contrast, they seemed incredibly businesslike.
    Paula:
    By lunchtime tomorrow hopefully. Deadline Friday max.
    Seb:
    Not a chance, don’t think it’s viable at all. Suggest a rethink.
    Then there were ones from me that read things like:
    What time are you back for tea?
    and
    Get milk on way home pls?
    The lack of kisses jumped out at me straight