The Handyman (18+ Only) [COMPLETED]

2: In Which She Needs Something Fixed

2: In Which She Needs Something Fixed

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“Sofia?”

I blinked, squinting in the startling light. Jack had flicked all the bedroom lights on and was currently hovering above me, a scowl on his face.

“What time is it?” I croaked as I sat up, although I could already tell that it was an ungodly hour.

“Four a.m.,” was his impatient reply. “Listen, I have to go back into the city. A client of mine needs me urgently.”

I wiped the sleep out of my eyes, registering for the first time his charcoal-black suit and briefcase in hand. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I murmured, kicking the covers off. Jack took a few steps back. “I didn’t even want to come out here but you said this was our little vacation! And now you’re zooming back into work-mode. What the fukk, Jack?” I spat at him, pushing past him and padding to the bathroom.

“Don’t be so infantile, Sofia. You’re thirty-eight, not three, for God’s sake,” he countered calmly. “Besides, I’ll only be a few hours; back by lunch. It’s not like you’re even going to be up, is it?”

I splashed icy water from tap onto my face, savouring the zing that shot through my nerves. Ignoring Jack only made him angry, and right then, I wanted to annoy the shit out of him. I was hurt beyond relief. Maybe this impromptu getaway was the last chance I had to save our marriage but how could I do that if his work kept getting in the way, vying for his attention and winning?

“Sof? Look, I’m sorry.” Jack’s voice became softer, apologetic. “Go swimming or something. It’ll be sunny today, guaranteed. You’re looking pale these days. Get a tan.”

I pushed past him and crawled back under the covers. Minutes later, he wrenched them off me.

“I’m talking to you, Sofia. How do you think I can afford this place?” he snarled at me, actually stooping to do it in my ear. “By refusing clients when they need me? By slacking?”

I hated it when he said things like that, made it seem like I was a lazy gold-digger and he was the provider, the one I depended on.

“I could be working, you know,” I said softly, hating how petulant my voice sounded. “A nurse’s salary is better than nothing.”

“Don’t start that nonsense again, Sofia. You’re starting to piss me off.”

“Safe trip, then,” I mumbled, keeping my back to him.

The covers were once again draped over me and I heard the soft shuffle of his shoes against the carpet as he walked out.

I didn’t realise that I was crying until I tasted the salt.

***

 

Go swimming, huh? I thought, scrubbing down between my legs, rough enough to turn the flesh there a flaming red. Is that your idea of a fúcking ball, Jack?

The shower head flung icy needles of water at me and I turned my face up to face them head-on, eyes squeezed shut. If I was lucky, the cold would kill me and I wouldn’t have to deal with my husband’s absence again.

He’d probably have me cremated. Less hassle.

What was I going to do with myself in this big old house? Holly was out for the day, visiting a niece of hers who just happened to live around here, and now Jack was gone too. Much to Jack’s chagrin, year in, year out, I never bonded with any of the smug, pearl-wearing madams of The Comptons, whose idea of fun was sipping sparkling wine and gossiping about whose-husband-fucked-whose-maid.