“I was never worried, Jessica. As much as you say you disagree with me, we both know you’d be there for him at any time of the day.”
She lifts her chin in the direction of the door. “Go.”
I place my phone to my ear as I head out of the office. “Aly. I see you’re still talking to me.”
“Only just.”
“What’s up?”
“I wouldn’t be calling unless this was important.” She pauses and I wait for her to continue, intrigued as to what would cause my sister to ask for help that she clearly doesn’t want to ask for. “I need a babysitter tonight. Are you free?”
I reach the lift and stab at the button. “I am.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“What’s going on? You sound stressed.”
“That’s because I bloody am stressed.” She blows out a breath. “Malcolm and I are booked in for marriage counselling tonight.”
“Good.”
“What do you mean, good?” she shrieks. “We had another huge fight after I left your place last night and he told me that if we don’t get counselling, he’ll be considering his options.”
I ride the lift alone down to the car park. “Have you two discussed counselling before?”
“He brings it up every now and then.”
“But you refuse?”
“Of course I bloody refuse. Talking stuff out with him only causes us to fight more. This is the last thing I want to be doing.” Her fear is laced through her words. My sister would be one of the only women I know who doesn’t want to talk about this kind of stuff.
“So you’d rather continue on, not knowing what he’s feeling? That makes no sense, Aly.”
She’s quiet and I have to prod her. “Aly?”
“I’m honestly scared where this will end up, Ashton. I think Malcolm wants to leave me.”
The lift reaches my destination and I exit it to head towards my car. “No, if he wanted to leave you, he would have done that. When a man wants to talk, he wants to stay and fix it. What time’s your appointment?”
“It’s at seven. Can I drop the kids off at about six?”
“I’ll make sure I’m home by then. And Aly?”
“What?”
“He loves you. Remember that.”
“It’s kind of hard at the moment when all I can think of is the way he looked at me last night—”
“No. Forget that. People say and do things they don’t necessarily mean when they’re angry. Think about the fact he cares enough to want to do this with you. If he didn’t love you, he wouldn’t bother.”
She’s silent for a beat. “I’m sorry I was a bitch to you last night.”
I unlock the car and slide into the driver seat. “Were you? I don’t recall you being any different to usual.”
“Smart-ass,” she mutters.
“I’ll see you tonight.”