The Other Side of Us - By Sarah Mayberry Page 0,1
loved Edie and because he wanted to grow old with her.
And she’d cheated on him. She’d gone to some sleazy motel and slept with some other man and then come home and lied to him.
He started the car and drove in the opposite direction of the studio. He knew exactly where Edie was—teaching vocal lessons to a bunch of overprivileged kids on the North Shore. Battling his way through rush-hour traffic, he focused on getting to her. He needed to talk to her. Needed answers. Beyond that... He had no idea.
His phone rang as he exited the freeway and headed into Cremorne. Caller ID told him it was Rex, his business partner.
“Where are you?” Rex said the moment he took the call.
“I’m not going to make the session,” Oliver said.
Someone cut in front of him and he leaned on the horn, a surge of fury rocketing through him. He wanted to put the pedal to the floor, wanted to blast past all this traffic so that he could be there, standing in front of Edie, looking into her face. So he could know for sure if this nightmare was real or some kind of messed-up misunderstanding.
“What do you mean you’re not going to make it? You’re the one who roped these guys in, Ollie.”
“I think Edie’s having an affair.” The words were thick in his throat, so thick he didn’t know how he got them out.
“I found a receipt in the car. I’m going to talk to her.”
Rex swore. “Mate, do you think that’s a good idea?”
Oliver laughed. “There’s nothing else I can do.”
He had to know. Now.
“Okay. I’ll cover for you. Somehow.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“Don’t worry about it. And...look after yourself, okay? Call me when you know more.”
Oliver tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and concentrated on driving. Twenty minutes later he pulled into the parking lot at Cremorne School for Girls. He could see his wagon sitting halfway down the row. He parked the Mini and got out. His legs felt strange as he made his way into the school, as though they belonged to someone else.
It was easy enough to find the music wing, and once there he simply zigzagged along the corridor, looking through the window of each door, searching for Edie’s familiar dark head.
He found her midway down the hall, dread thudding in his gut like a bass drum.
He watched her for a moment, aware of the adrenaline firing his pulse. She was demonstrating a breathing technique, one hand on her diaphragm, the other gesturing in the air. She wore slim, thigh-hugging jeans tucked into tan knee-high boots and a green asymmetrical top that hinted at her spectacular cleavage. She looked beautiful and vibrant.
His wife. The liar.
He opened the door. Edie turned toward him, a confused smile curving her mouth when she saw him.
“Ollie. What are you doing here?”
“Can I have a minute?”
Her smile dropped like a rock as she registered his tone. She glanced at the class.
“I won’t be a minute, girls. Go over the chorus again, and concentrate on your breathing.”
She joined him, her gray eyes wide with panic. She grabbed his jacket sleeve. “It’s not Mum, is it? God, please tell me it’s not Mum.”
Her mother, Naomi, had had a minor stroke several months ago and Edie had convinced herself it was the beginning of the end.
“She’s fine, as far as I know.” He pulled the motel receipt from his pocket and handed it to her.
Was it his imagination, or did she blanch as she read it?
It seemed to take forever for her gaze to return to his.
“I found it in your car today,” he said.
She opened her mouth and he knew from the look on her face and in her eyes that she was about to lie. Funny that he could see it now. When it was too late.
“I checked the account,” he added.
There was a small pause.
“Ollie. I’m so sorry.” Her eyes filled with tears.
“Who is he?”
“Does it matter?”
“Who. Is. He?”
She swallowed, a single tear snaking down her cheek. “I was with Nick.”
Shock was a physical thing, rocking him back on his heels.
Of all the men in her life—in their life—Nick was the last person Oliver would have suspected. Nick had been their band manager in the early days, and he and Edie had gone out for two tumultuous, tempestuous years. Nick had broken her heart and crushed her spirit and when things had finally ended, Oliver had been the one to help her pick up the