Chapter 22

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My first instinct was to stupidly say, 'But he's seeing Dee.'

Izzy slowly looked back up at me and cocked her head to the side.

'I know that.' She rolled her eyes. I could see Will standing behind Izzy with his arms folded. He tapped his foot as he waited impatiently for the penny to drop. I almost expected him to start a slow clap as he saw the realisation dawn on my face. I almost wished he would because it would at least swap the hate in the air for a bit of dark humour, even if it was at my expense for being stupid and ignorant.

'Since when?' I wanted to know.

'A couple of weeks after that night we all went out together in Covent Garden,' said Izzy. 'I told Will everything last night.'

'Right.' I wracked my brain trying to think of signs that something had been going on at the bar that night, but I was coming up with nothing but visions of Matt trailing his fingers down Dee's back as she ran her fingertip around the rim of her champagne glass. She'd read somewhere that playing with your hands in front of guys made them think of sex.

'None of this would have happened if you hadn't come into Izzy's life.' Will's voice cut through my thoughts.

'That's not true.' Izzy whipped her head around to face him.

'Oh really?' he replied caustically, stepping towards us. 'You wouldn't have met this Matt guy if it wasn't for her.'

'Will -' said Izzy.

'You ruined our lives!' he barked at me. 'Are you happy homewrecker?'

'Will, I'd hardly call her that,' Scott intervened.

'I would!' Scott seemed to visibly jump back at Will's outburst in his direction. 'She takes my fiancé out 'til all hours every weekend and during the week and...'

I shot Izzy a glance, knowing that wasn't true. Wide-eyed and desperate, she shook her head at me. I knew that look from her. It was the 'shut up and don't say anything' look. Was that the reason behind all those weird looks Sara gave me? She must have really thought I was leading her daughter astray, especially considering that Izzy was evidently using me as an excuse every time she went off to see Matt. No wonder Will hated me - he thought I was aiding and abetting the fling.

Then I remembered something from the night I'd come home after the Roxy Rogers interview. I'd gone to sleep early and woken at 3am to find dirty glasses and empty beer bottles next to the sink. The lipstick mark on one of them - it was bright pink, just like the lipstick she'd worn at the hens and on the night out in Covent Garden. They were the only two nights I'd ever been out with her. I felt like Columbo or Angela Lansbury in Murder, She Wrote or something, putting the evidence together.

She'd been in my flat and no one had told me. She'd been drinking wine in my flat and no one had told me. She'd been drinking wine at my flat with someone who drank beer. Matt, obviously. And Mitch or Rick? Or both of them?

Then another penny dropped. The way Rick had been so short with me when I'd suggested dinner with Matt and Dee. He knew about this fling. He knew. And he hadn't even warned me that I could've been walking into a lion's den today.

'Will, I had no idea, but I'm sorry about everything.' This was the second time I'd cried today, but this time it wasn't over smiles and vows and pretty dresses and letting go of cynicism. This time, it was for entirely different reasons.

'You should be!' spat Will. 'You ruined everything!'

I fumbled to get a hold of Izzy's wrists so I could yank her hands off my shoulders. She resisted me for a couple of seconds, applying more pressure to her vice-like grip. Her eyes clung on to that desperate look and, for a moment, I worried that she might crumple to the ground if I let her go. But then the strength in her hands seemed to suddenly fall away and she let her arms dangle resignedly at her sides, like two abandoned swings.

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