I meant it when I said I don’t give a shit about rent. No skin off my nose.

Me: We can sort that shit later.

Soph: HOW MUCH IS RENT?

I chuckle to myself. I get the feeling this arrangement could be fun. I do love riling up this girl. Really, there’s not much else going on in my life that I can laugh about.

Me: Like I said, we can sort this shit later. Comprende?

Soph: FINE. See you next Thursday.

I imagine her growling the word ‘fine’ and rolling her green eyes. Something in my gut tells me that having this feisty woman move in means my life’s about to get a whole lot more interesting.

CHAPTER FIVE

SOPHIE

I hope she’s not home today. I’m not interested in re-hashing shit, because I know that’s exactly what will happen. Being the debate team captain in high school, she won’t be able to help herself.

With the small amount of credit on my phone, I text her to say that I’m grabbing the last of my boxes out of the garage, and that I’ll leave my keys on the bench. If April had the room, I would’ve taken those things sooner.

Once I get to our old place, I back my blue Hyundai hatchback up to the garage and open the boot, moving some empty shopping bags aside to make room.

I quickly load a couple of boxes in, and then spy a black matt paper bag with black ribbon for handles beside the last box. There’s a folded piece of white paper on top. I spy the flashes of cream, red, and deep purple. What has she done now?

My beautiful Sophie,

I know you think I was too lavish with these gifts, but you have to take them with you. You’re beautiful and you deserve to have beautiful things. I just hope I get to enjoy the sight of you wearing them once more.

Love Bon x

Straight away, I know what she’s done. I never felt like I deserved these gifts. Who spends hundreds upon hundreds of dollars on underwear? Certainly not me. Once upon a time, before Prince Fuckface royally screwed me over, I didn’t mind the occasional lavish purchase. Now, I prefer to spend my money on food and bare necessities. Call me fucking crazy.

But this is not just any underwear. It’s Agent Provocateur. It’s incredible, top-of-the-line, make-you-feel-like-you’re-worth-a-million-dollars underwear, but I never asked for it. I loved wearing it, but it would always remind me of the divide between us. Bonnie would occasionally make me wear it, and she’d take her time taking it off me. Sure, she’d boss me around. We always fought each other to be dominant in the bedroom, but it was during those times when I wore beautiful lingerie that I’d give in. Playing the submissive one has it rewards.

This time, I’m giving in again. I’m taking the damn sexy underwear, because who knows if I’ll be able to afford nice things like this in the future. I’ll just have to treat these with extra care. They may need to last a while. No farting in these pretty panties.

I laugh to myself. Bonnie was devastated to be the first in our relationship to fart in front of the other. And didn’t I like to remind her of that fact.

I put the note back in the bag, put it on top of the last box and jam my armload into the back of my car. Lingerie, you’re coming home with me.

A black Mercedes pulls into the pebbled driveway beside my car. Fucking hell. Awkward confrontation, here we come.

Bonnie’s heels click on the path as she approaches, wearing a sharp black pantsuit and a soft smile.

“Hi,” I say, my voice suddenly tight.

“Looks like I just caught you.”

“You didn’t have to rush home. You look like you’ve just come from work.”

She moves in closer and strokes my upper arm with her warm, smooth palms. She smells divine too. I bet she’s still using that sweet pomegranate body lotion I got her for Christmas. It’s a smell that reminds me of soft skin, rich kisses and all-night-long orgasms.

“It’s no big deal. I wanted to talk to you,” she says, in her soft yet dominant tone.

“What about?” I practically screech. “We said it all.” I turn away. No more rehashing!

“You’re being stupid about this.” She grabs my wrist with her strong, long fingers, which have been intimate with every inch of my body. As I turn my head to face her, her touch sends a chill right up my spine, and then a weight crashes down into the pit of my stomach.

“Don’t go,” she pleads.

I tug my arm away. “I have to.”

She scoffs and drops my hand. “Where are you moving to now? Not that I even know where you’ve been.” Her tone carries the same annoyance she had the last time we were together. She would have put up more of a fight if I’d told her I was leaving to live on April’s couch because I couldn’t afford somewhere on my own. It just would have inflamed the situation more. Once I’d made up my mind, nothing was gonna change it.

Not that I need to justify my actions to anyone, I decide to tell her. “I was staying with April, if you must know, and now I’m renting a room. Once I’m back on my feet I’ll get my own place.” And with any luck, I’ll get an application approved for a place I can afford. I can’t believe how much competition there is for cheap places near the city. It’s why I was on April’s sofa for so long.

“A room? Why do you always feel like you have to struggle? I thought the time apart might have made you see sense.

Excuse me, what?

“Sense?”

“Well forgive me, but I thought you might actually still love me and come back.”

I let out a loud sigh and toe my boot into the crack in the driveway beneath my feet. Were we ever going to work? Kids aside, would I have always been second best in the relationship?

“Bon,” I say, on an exhale.

“Why the hell did you move out if you had nowhere to go? You could’ve stayed.”

“I left because IT WASN’T WORKING!”

I never could bring myself to tell her about my real financial situation. As far as she knew, I was paying off my credit card and the finance on my car. Mind you, they cut up my credit card a long time ago.

“So when you finally move into a place on your own, then what?”

“I want a baby.”

“Are you really ready to be a mother, Sophie?”

What?

“Of course I am!”

“It’s not gonna happen overnight, you know. We had something solid … we still can if you just put your pride aside. What’s a few years?”

Pride? My pride isn’t getting in the way; it’s my dreams that apparently are.

“My fucking pride? Gah!” This shit has nothing to do with pride. I just want my shot at something. Something I always dreamed of. I want to be a mother. Come hell or high fucking water, I’ll never settle within my own skin until I get that. “You’re talking another five years before you’ll be in the same place as me. I can’t wait that long only to be told that maybe you don’t want a baby after all.”

“You know I can’t make that kind of commitment.”

“Bon, I know. I fuckin’ know and it kills me. But I can’t sacrifice the one thing I want in life, and I don’t care what anyone thinks—I’ll have a kid on my own.”

“Are you seriously gonna do it solo?”

“I will.”

“How are you going to support yourself and a child working as a waitress?”

“You know that’s not forever. You know I’m trying to be something better. I’ll work it out.”

How many nights did she see my head buried in textbooks? Maybe I should have spent a few less nights buried between her legs, and I could’ve really gotten ahead with my studies. I’m not dumb. At least I don’t think I am, but I have to spend a lot of time studying for uni—as a mature-aged student, mind you. I don’t pick shit up easy. I have to work at it. Go over shit time and time again. I’ll get there; I’m just one of those unlucky people that needs to work hard for stuff to sink in.