The Last Wife: An absolutely gripping and emotional page-turner with a brilliant twist by Nicola Marsh

Author:Nicola Marsh [Marsh, Nicola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781838880514
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2019-10-10T18:30:00+00:00

25

Shamira

My feet drag as I enter the apartment. A potent mix of fatigue, guilt and anxiety runs deep, making me weary to my bones. I can’t do this anymore; live a lie. Besides, Ashlin has taken any choice I have out of my hands.

I have to tell Trent the truth.

Now.

I called him on the way home from the hospital, asking him to meet me here. I worried Ashlin may have called him first but he’d sounded his usual upbeat, chipper self. Besides, delivering devastating news over the phone isn’t her style. She’d want to do it in person so she can see the havoc she wreaks firsthand.

His early-morning guitar lesson had finished and I caught him on the way to his favorite secondhand store, which he visits weekly in the hope of finding old vinyls, instruments or anything to remotely do with guitarists.

I admire his passion for music. It translates to all areas of his life, including me: undeserving, unreliable, unremarkable me. I hide it from him, my insecurities, but soon he’ll know and my life as I know it may be over.

The launch of my new digestive elixir is tonight and I’m not sure whether to cancel or brave this out. May insists PR is good for business but I’m feeling wretched. Some of the family have RSVP’d: May, Justin and Ria. Christine is minding the kids. The shop will be packed with interested, eager customers and usually I’d be in my element, waxing lyrical about my concoctions and their health benefits.

After I tell Trent the truth about my past, tonight might not even happen. Our marriage could be over. He’s a placid guy and he loves me, but can he forgive me for withholding the truth all these years?

I shiver and rub my hands over my arms. It does little to eradicate the chill invading my body and making my teeth chatter. I cross to the kitchen, grab a bottle of brandy I use for cooking, and take a swig straight from the bottle. The liquor burns my throat and I cough and splutter before taking another, hoping it will warm me. It doesn’t and as I recap it and shove the bottle back in its cupboard I hear the front door open.

“Everything okay?” he calls from the entryway as I brace, knowing that nothing will be okay again.

“Thanks for coming home.” I glimpse his startled expression as I run toward him and fling myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face in his chest. I inhale, allowing the familiar fragrances of his musky aftershave and faint body odor to calm me. Today, they don’t work and my heart pounds as I slowly pull away.

“You’re scaring me.” He drapes an arm across my shoulders and leads me to our worn suede sofa, one of our favorite spots for making love.

Sitting here should comfort me, should provide me with some sense of belonging. Yet as my pulse races all I feel is confidence-shaking trepidation.

“I have to tell you something.

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