The look of shock amplified as the realisation I knew about his disgraceful affair dawned on him.

“I won’t let you ruin this for me,” he seethed.

“Holy shit!” I mumbled, more to myself than to him. “What is wrong with you?”

“You should go.” He tried to reach past me to the door handle. “And stay away from that bartender or he’ll be removed as a problem.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” My hands and feet felt freezing cold and my mind started to spin out of control. “Tell her to come out now so I can talk to her.”

He ran his hands through his hair and looked at the ceiling. “I am not going to lose my biggest client now. I’ve worked too hard for this.”

“You’re out of your mind.” I spoke through clenched teeth, barely containing my rage.

“I saw an opportunity and I took it,” he said, trying too hard to sound casual. The vein popping out of his forehead was a dead giveaway for his high stress level. “That’s what successful people do to get ahead. You were part of the deal.”

“What do you mean I was part of the deal?” I asked, becoming more and more disgusted by the second.

“It seemed like a good deal to date the beautiful daughter of the most connected family in Melbourne. For a long time, you were a bit dull and compliant, but you were pretty to look at and didn’t take up a lot of my time.”

“Are you serious?” I asked, completely gobsmacked.

“I got the lucrative charity account and a pretty trophy wife-to-be,” he continued, as if he were discussing a business deal, which essentially he was. “She has it all mapped out. She has big plans for the wedding. She’s often rambling about hiring the Australian Centre for Contemporary Art in South Melbourne and theming the whole extravaganza in pink. You know what she’s like.”

“Her dream wedding,” I uttered in complete disbelief.

“Richard!” my mother’s shrill voice called from upstairs. “What’s keeping you?”

I held my hand over my mouth, fearful of further retching. I spoke through my hand, closing my eyes as the gravity of the situation rolled over my broken soul. “You are a despicable human being.”

He was silent for a few moments, and I could see the cogs turning in his head.

He had the audacity to touch my arm, and I flinched away violently. “I’d gladly stay away from you and your fucked-up family, but your Mum’s account is my golden ticket,” he whispered, but his intensity was deafening.

“Fuck you.” I hoped I burst his ear drum with my hate-filled words.

“That’s no way to talk to your future husband, Juliette.” My mother appeared right behind Richard and her voice cut through the room like a knife.

Richard and I both jumped, clutching our hand to our hearts in perfect sync.

“What’s going on, Mum?” I asked tentatively, suddenly afraid of a woman I didn’t recognise.

“I’m trying to salvage a situation you seem determined to destroy.” She was swaying as she spoke and her eyes couldn’t focus. “I’m so tired of cleaning up your messes. I give such simple instructions.”

“What?” My voice was barely audible. She was drunk or high or maybe both. Had she always been like this and I just hadn’t noticed the extent of her delusions? Or is this what I’d avoided for so many years trying to do exactly what she wanted, forging my own miserable fairy tale, solely to please her? “I think you should take a break and go home to Dad.”

Mum scoffed and flicked her dyed blonde hair over her shoulder. “That old man is such a bore. ‘Calm down. Take a break. Leave Juliette alone.’” She said it in a deep voice, cocking her head from side to side, trying to mimic my father. “I don’t want to take a fucking break.” She put her hand on the wall to steady herself and took some shallow breaths.

I stood up straight and walked towards her. “You need help, Mum. I’ve tried to help you, but clearly I’ve just made it worse.”

“Stop talking.” She put her hands over her ears and closed her eyes. “Stop talking. Stop talking.”

“Come on, Mum.” I stepped forward gingerly and lightly touched her elbow. “I’ll take you home.”

Her eyes opened and she looked at me with such hatred I was in no way prepared for. “I said stop talking!” she shouted at me before she closed her eyes and resumed her ramblings as if nothing had happened.

I pushed my shoulders back but was unable to stop a few tears from slipping down my cheeks. Clearing my throat, I turned to Richard, who was white as a sheet—his eyes were out on stalks and his slack jaw trembled.

“I need to get her home.” I’d take charge of this horrible situation before I fell apart completely. “Seriously, Richard. You need to leave her alone. She needs professional help. Go find another sugar mummy to feed your client base.”

“Not going to happen just yet, princess.”

I got right up in his face. “Look, you disgusting snake. You’ve done as much damage as you’re going to do. I’ll have my father remove you as her adviser in the morning.” I turned my back on him, intent on helping my mother.

“I can destroy her.”

His words made me falter. I turned back to him and steeled myself. “What do you mean?”

“I have no problem publicising my affair with her or this little meltdown she’s having.” He sounded so smug I wanted to punch him.

“It wouldn’t reflect well on your career.”

“Au contraire, mon amour. I have nothing to lose and I’ve done nothing wrong. I also have some compromising evidence I’d be happy to release.”

Arsehole.

“So I don’t tell my dad and you keep your mouth shut?”

He smiled and actually let out a little chuckle. “It’s actually pretty damn perfect. Mummy Dearest can be shuffled off to a looney bin, leaving me in charge of the account.”

He was making my skin crawl with his callous excitement.

“Can you help me get her home at least? She won’t let me near her.”

“Fine. Whatever. Anything to get the pair of you out of here.”

Mum allowed Richard to put his arm around her and she suddenly looked like a scared young girl. It was horrifying.

I turned on my heel and opened the door, allowing them to walk through ahead of me. We walked slowly back to my family home in silence. From the way she slumped into Richard’s side, Mum was either sobering up, coming down off a high or she was simply exhausted. Staring up at the luxury townhouse I had called home for my entire childhood, I realised I was attaching another unpleasant memory to its four walls. The difference this time was, for the first time, I didn’t feel directly responsible for the situation. Her behaviour wasn’t on me.

I rang the doorbell and waited a few minutes. Richard stood behind me, holding up Mum, who was still resting her head on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed and she looked peaceful. Jean would’ve left for the day, and Dad was probably holed up in his office. I rang again.

Eventually Dad opened the door, and when he glanced behind me and saw Mum with Richard, he looked confused. “Isabel? What’s wrong?”

He stepped outside and moved towards them. “What’s going on, Juliette?”

“Mum wasn’t with Carol.” I wondered if any conversation could be more awkward. “She went to Richard’s after all.”

“Sorry about this, Richard. Thanks for helping bring her home and for your discretion.”

I wanted to throw up listening to him apologise. He had no idea and I couldn’t tell him. Not yet, anyway.

He gently took Mum from Richard, who then took a few steps back and tripped over his own feet. I didn’t laugh because nothing about that situation was remotely funny. Mum moved away from us and walked into the house as if on auto-pilot.

“She was acting crazy, Dad. She really needs that help.”

The silence was palpable.

“Thanks for bringing her home, Juliette.”

“I just want her to be happy, Dad.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I’ll get her the help she needs.”