Two Halves Novel – Cate can’t believe her husband had a one-night stand with another woman while she was in the hospital taking care of their sick child. “Cate,” Kian grunted, feeling the warmth spread out from the base of his spine. She faltered for a second. He dug his fingers in her hair, holding her head still as he thrust up inside her mouth. Then he felt the beads of glue close to her scalp. What the…? Cate doesn’t have hair extensions. He pushed her away and fumbled for the light switch at the side of the bed. When he looked up, he saw that it was Jenna kneeling over him. “It’s OK, baby,” she tried to move towards him, misinterpreting his expression of horror. “It doesn’t matter.” She thought he felt guilty because he’d called her Cate. F-ck, Kian dragged his hands through his hair. “You did the same last night,” Jenna reassured him. “In the lift.” Kian jumped out of bed, “last night…?” He forced himself to look at Jenna. There was a bite mark around one of her n-pples. “Did I?” Jenna looked down and giggled; it was such an awful sound it made his ears bleed. “Yeah, you thought you could make me come like that. I tried telling you that since I’ve had them done; my t-ts just aren’t that sensitive.” Kian looked down at his c-ck, which was sheathed in an empty cond-m. “Did we f-ck?” “We tried but you’d had a lot to drink last night.” Jenna gestured to the floor at the side of the bed, “I don’t envy the cleaners this morning, you were so sick.”
Kian walked through the hotel; avoiding the packs of journalists, until eventually he found an empty corridor. He tried their home number first but it rang and rang. Then he tried Cate’s mobile. “Hello,” A male voice answered. Kian quickly checked that he’d got the right number. “Cate?” “Who is this?” Kian felt his blood pump that much faster. “Why the f-ck are you answering my wife’s phone?” “Kian, is that you? It’s Nick.” The dial tone buzzed loudly in his ear. Kian slammed his fist against the wall. The f-cking f-cker had hung up on him. He tried calling Cate again but it went straight to voicemail. Questions like pinballs smacked against his skull. Why was that f-cker answering Cate’s phone? Despite the fact that he earned millions as a professional footballer, when they’d first got married, Cate had insisted that she wanted to be independent and had got a part-time job at the Book Tavern, a second-hand bookstore owned by her sister, Liv’s friend, Nick. Kian had never trusted the sleazy f-cker – he’d seen the way he’d ogled Cate – and he’d been proved right when he’d made a move on Cate at the Tavern Christmas party.
After Cate had tearfully confessed what had happened, Kian had insisted that she immediately quit her job at the Tavern. He’d thought that was the end of the f-cker. Kian stormed back to the Onyx Bar. He needed a drink, f-ck that, he needed an intravenous drip pumping enough alcohol into his system until he could black out and this whole day would be just another f-cking nightmare. As he stalked across the bar, he heard a loud burst of laughter from the other side of the room. Frederick f-cking Meyer was sat at one of the tables with his greasy-haired agent and a couple of fake blondes in short skirts and stilettos. They didn’t give a s-it that Fred had missed the penalty which had knocked England out of the World Cup. One of the blondes sat on Fred’s knee and as she k-ssed his acne-marked jaw, he brazenly slid a hand up her skirt. Even though he had a sweet girlfriend waiting for him back home, Fred had a huge s-it-eating grin on his face. Ugh, Kian turned away in disgust.
The families arrived and joined the players in the Onyx. “Keep them coming,” Kian said to the bartender. “You OK?” Sara, Yoakey’s wife put her hand on his arm. “Where’s Cate?” “Not f-cking here,” Kian growled. He kept hearing that f-cker’s voice going around his head. “Hey,” Yoakey said, joining them. “I know you’re pissed off man but don’t speak to Sara like that.” “F-ck off,” Kian grunted. He picked up his shot-glass and downed the foul-tasting liquid in one gulp, slamming the glass back down on the bar. “I said keep them coming.” Yoakey and Sara left him alone and the bartender quickly refilled his glass. He didn’t even like shots; he just wanted to get drunk fast. “Why is my wife not f-cking here?” Kian tossed back another shot.
The alcohol purified his rage, stripping away all reason, until it was like a razor-sharp blade. He ignored the fact that he’d asked her not to come to Portugal. Is that why she doesn’t want another child with me, because she’s too busy f-cking other guys? “Kian?” F-ck, he was drunk. He could only just make out that it was Jenna, his sister Sinead’s friend. His thoughts quickly turned back to Cate. Was she there when Nick answered her phone? He grabbed his phone from his pocket and quickly scrolled back through the photos until he’d found the one he wanted. He’d taken it a couple of weeks ago. It was early in the morning; the sun was just peeking above the hills at the back of their house. When he’d come back from the bathroom, Cate had been stood there looking out of the windows, lost in the view. The night before they’d made l-ve and then fallen asleep on the daybed in the back porch so she was n-ked apart from their wedding quilt. Her long, inky-black hair tumbled down her b-re back.
The quilt dropped low enough that he could see the curve of her bottom. She’d looked so breathtakingly beautiful, Kian hadn’t been able to resist taking a couple more photos before she’d realised he was there. Except this time, when he looked at the photo, Cate wasn’t on their back porch. She was in a random hotel room and instead of their wedding quilt; she was wrapped in a white bed sheet. Kian scrunched his eyes shut. He could feel bile rising up the back of his throat. Nick switches off Cate’s mobile and places it face down on the mahogany writing desk. He walks over to Cate, who is still looking out of the window. Nick softly k-sses her neck and she smiles, softening against him. Nick grips her hips… Get your f-cking hands off her, Kian wanted to scream. He tossed back another shot, feeling the burn down the back of his throat. Nick turns Cate around to face him.
He cups her bottom, pressing her against his c-ck. Cate giggles and wraps her arms around his neck. Nick carries her over to the four-poster bed and throws her down on the mattress. The outline of her peaked n-pples is visible through the thin sheet. The sheets are rumpled and sweaty, proving that Cate has already broken her vows to Kian. There’s an open champagne bottle on the table, next to Cate’s discarded wedding ring. Nick takes a sip from the bottle and then slowly unpeels the sheet from Cate’s body. “Kian,” Jenna tried again. “Are you OK?” Kian looked down at his b-re finger; he’d left his wedding ring at home. He looked at the empty shot glass on the bar. “Why is this f-cking empty?” he growled. Jenna put a hand on his arm, “don’t you think you’ve had enough?” “You’re right,” Kian slurred a little. “I’ve had enough. My f-cking wife’s f-cking cheating on me with that f-cking f-cker.” “Come on, let’s go upstairs,” Jenna said softly, helping him up from the bar stool.
When Kian woke up the next morning, his head felt like it had been in one of those Whack-A-Mole games Lola liked to play at the funfair. The sun streaming through the window was too f-cking bright. He threw an arm over his eyes. He felt the mattress dip and his first thought was thank f-ck, Cate was there. She closed the curtains so the room was shrouded in darkness again. He felt her small hand wrap around the base of his c-ck. She stuck out her tongue and rubbed the underside of his shaft against it. F-ck, Kian wished he could see what she was doing. He reached down and stroked his fingers through her hair. It felt different, rougher. She took him deep inside her mouth and as she swallowed, the back of her throat massaged the blunt head of his c-ck. She cupped his balls, gently massaging them. “Cate,” Kian grunted, feeling the warmth spread out from the base of his spine. She faltered for a second. He dug his fingers in her hair, holding her head still as he thrust up inside her mouth.
Then he felt the beads of glue close to her scalp. What the…? Cate doesn’t have hair extensions. He pushed her away and fumbled for the light switch at the side of the bed. When he looked up, he saw that it was Jenna kneeling over him. “It’s OK, baby,” she tried to move towards him, misinterpreting his expression of horror. “It doesn’t matter.” She thought he felt guilty because he’d called her Cate. F-ck, Kian dragged his hands through his hair. “You did the same last night,” Jenna reassured him. “In the lift.” Kian jumped out of bed, “last night…?” He forced himself to look at Jenna. There was a bite mark around one of her n-pples. “Did I?” Jenna looked down and giggled; it was such an awful sound it made his ears bleed. “Yeah, you thought you could make me come like that… I tried telling you that since I’ve had them done; my t-ts just aren’t that sensitive.” Kian looked down at his c-ck, which was sheathed in an empty cond-m. “Did we f-ck?” “We tried but you’d had a lot to drink last night.”
Jenna gestured to the floor at the side of the bed, “I don’t envy the cleaners this morning, you were so sick.” Kian gritted his teeth. “Don’t worry,” Jenna purred. She knelt in front of him on the bed and wrapped her hand around his now limp d-ck, playing with the edge of the cond-m. He could smell the vomit. She rubbed her fake t-ts up against his chest. “You still made me come. After you passed out, I used your fingers. You don’t mind, do you?” Kian grabbed his phone and stumbled into the bathroom, trying hard not to gag. He ripped the cond-m off his d-ck and went to the toilet, even his piss stank of tequila. As he turned around, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. There were specks of vomit crusted around his mouth.
As he reached up to scratch at them, he could smell Jenna’s p-ssy on his fingers. He lurched back towards the toilet and heaved violently but there was nothing left in his stomach. He needed to try and fix this but it felt like the world had started spinning in reverse. “Hello?” Sinead sounded as if she’d just woken up. “It’s me,” Kian croaked, “I need your help.” “Ugh,” Sinead wrinkled her nose when Kian opened the door. “What’s that smell?” “I’m dealing with it,” Kian said curtly. He needed to get Jenna out of there now. Before Sinead could interrogate him, Jenna came out of the bathroom, dressed in just her lacy bra and skinny jeans. “Sweets,” she trilled when she saw Sinead. “What are you doing here?”