Layla was lying on the couch, a glass of wine perched on the edge of the table in front of her, the empty bottle next to it. Weeks had gone by since Donnie had ripped the ring off her finger and told her she could stay there until she found somewhere to live. Not that she’d done much searching. Why should she? It was her home too. She still couldn’t believe he’d done it.
‘He’s a fucking bastard if he thinks I’ll ever move out of this house,’ she slurred to herself.
‘Layla?’ A male voice called from the kitchen. She sat up quickly, straightened herself out as much as she could, but her eyes lagged behind with the dizziness from being so intoxicated.
‘Layla, you in?’ It was Steff’s voice, likely here to check up on her so that he could feedback to Donnie. Like a dog and its bloody owner.
‘What the hell do you want?’ Layla said, attempting to get to her feet. Stumbling forward, she knocked yet another glass over and red wine spilled all over the cream carpet. Shit! She might live in a luxurious home, but she was as well living in a slum the way she was treating the place.
Steff appeared in the doorway and gave a laugh. ‘Check the nick of you.’
‘Fuck off,’ Layla sneered. ‘If you’re here to check up on me for him, then you can tell him from me that he’s the king of all pricks and he can jump in front of a train. And make sure you give that as a direct quote.’
Steff laughed again. ‘Wow, that wine really does loosen the tongue, doesn’t it?’
Layla tried to keep her balance as she reached down to retrieve the wine glass, but instead, she stumbled forward again. Steff rushed forward and reached her in time before she fell face first into the fireplace.
‘Jesus, Layla. How much have you had?’
‘None of your business. What are you even doing here, Steff?’ she hissed. ‘And how did you get in?’
‘You left the back door open. And I’m here to see if you’re okay?’
Layla shrugged him off, and he let go, before stumbling her way through to the kitchen to open another bottle of wine.
‘Is that a good idea? By the looks of it, you’ve had a skinful already,’ Steff said, following her through the house.
Anything was better than staying sober, she thought. The drunker she got, the less she’d remember about her shitty husband and her shitty life. Or at least, she could pretend that he was a shit. It didn’t seem to matter what Donnie did to her, she just couldn’t stop loving him. The bastard.
‘Want some?’ Layla shook the bottle at him, ignoring his judgement.
‘Go on then, if it means you don’t drink the entire bottle yourself then why not?’ Steff replied.
She watched as he pulled two fresh wine glasses from the cupboard, took the bottle from her and placed the glasses on the counter before guiding her to the kitchen table.
‘Why are you being so nice?’
‘Believe it or not, Layla, I just want to help you. If I was a girl, I’d be holding your hair back in the toilet of some nightclub right now.’
Layla burst out laughing, but she could feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes.
‘I don’t know if I can trust you, Steff. You’re Donnie’s brother. I know you say you mean well, but you’re only here to check up on me. I’m not stupid.’
‘No, you’re not. But you are pissed, so your perceptions are way off. I promise you, I’m here as your friend, not Donnie’s brother.’
Layla regarded him as he moved away from her, opened the wine and poured some into the glasses before sitting down next to her at the table. He handed a glass to her, and she took it, drank a large mouthful and then set it down on the table.
‘If you’re here as my friend, then you can tell me the truth. Is he having an affair?’
She was hopeful for two things. One, that Steff would be truthful, and two, that Donnie wasn’t being unfaithful. Even though they’d technically separated, it would still hurt. And Kerry’s death would kill her all over again, because if he was being unfaithful then she would have been right about not trusting him all those years ago.
‘Why do you care, Layla? I mean, look at the state you’ve got yourself into because of him. He’s not good for you. You’re not good for each other.’
‘That doesn’t answer my question, Steff.’
Steff took a glug from his glass and placed it next to hers before taking her hand in his. Glancing down at his grip, she was surprised by it.
‘You don’t have to know the answer to that question. It’ll only hurt you.’
She felt the contents of her stomach begin to spin. ‘So, he is having an affair? I fucking knew it, the bastard. Who is she, Steff? Do you know her?’
Steff sighed. ‘It’s not an affair as such. He’s not romantically involved if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s just… well, you know what Donnie’s like. His eyes are always wandering.’
Layla didn’t know what to think. ‘Wandering eyes is one thing, Steff. But to act on it? Fuck, I’ll kill him.’
‘You’re separated now, Layla. You’re not together anymore. I know that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt, obviously.’
His grip on her hand tightened a little, a reassuring sense that he was trying to be there for her. She looked at him differently then. Not as Donnie’s brother, or her brother-in-law, but as his own person. As Steff. Her friend. Comforter.
‘Layla, I’ve never thought he was good for you. Never. I’ve always believed there was someone out there far better for you than him and what he could offer.’
Before Layla could stop it, she was leaning in and kissing him. And his response wasn’t to pull away. She was already pulling at his clothes.
This would teach Donnie Black not to fuck her over. She might seem like a pathetic little wife who’d been betrayed by her husband, but she was angry. What better way to channel that anger than to have Donnie’s brother in Donnie’s bed? She’d make sure Donnie knew all about it. She’d have the last laugh.