Chapter 58:

A/N: I've hit a wall with this fic, motivations have been low and I've had to kinda force myself to write it. I've only done a brief spell check as well because I just wanted to get this up due to people asking me for updates.

Trigger warnings:

Homophobic language - PoV 4

References to rape - PoV 6


Carla

"Hi, she's dressed!" Michelle beams as she enters the ward and I raise my head from where I have been sat cross-legged, staring at my phone. "Happy anniversary."

"What?" I freeze, checking the date on my phone. 19th January 2019. It definitely hadn't been a year since our wedding. "We got married in May."

"I know, I mean the other anniversary." She takes a seat on the bed, smoothing a hand through my hair. "When it all started." She reads the confusion on my face, deciding she had to spell it out. "Pints flying. Back at my flat. You kissed me. Confessed your undying love for me."

"Right wouldn't go that far." I screw my nose up, giving her a playful shove. "It's only been a year? Feels like ten."

"Oh charming, aren't you a ray of sunshine this morning?" She leans in to kiss me, before handing over a card.

"...I didn't get you anything." I suddenly feel embarrassed, but she just shrugs, smiling warmly as I open it. Pulling out a personalised card with a picture of the latest sonogram on the front and the words 'happy anniversary' written in swirly writing, I try to hold back tears. "Why do you always do this?"

"You're gonna be fine. They're gonna be fine." She gently places a hand on my bump and I lace mine over here, nodding hopefully. "And they might be letting you come home, but it doesn't mean you won't have somebody tending to you every five minutes."

"Will you wear a nurses costume?" I bite my lip flirtatiously and she manages a quick eye roll before I kiss her again.

"No I'm serious, Carla." She lowers her voice, studying me deeply. "I'm not letting anything happen to you and them. You've got to take it easy, ok? No stressing yourself out with work. And if one thing feels wrong we come straight back here. Got it?"

"Yeah." I nod sincerely. "I promise."


Michelle

"Feel good to be back?" I close the flat door, noticing how she was gazing around cautiously.

"Smells different." She just observes and I let out a soft laugh. "Although, maybe I'm just used to it normally. You know when you come back from holiday and it's as if you're in somebody else's home?"

"What do you want to do?" I take her bags, stacking them by the sofa and making a note to unpack them later.

"Sleep." She admits, turning to me and I smile. "In a proper bed. With you. Will you hold me? I've waited for this for weeks."

"Course, I'm not going anywhere." I assure her, watching as she pads into the bedroom, eyes alight when she sees the flowers I have laid out on the clean bedsheets.

"Michelle I really hate you sometimes." She groans, picking up the bouquet. "You're too flamin' soft."


Carla

"What are you doing here?" Michelle's head snaps up from her desk as I appear in the doorway of the office, coat pulled over my growing bump. "You're supposed to be resting."

"Michelle I'm so tired of resting." I groan, flopping down in my chair, despite feeling exhausted. "You know better than anyone that you can't keep me in a cage."

"...I'm just concerned." She sighs, eyes dropping to my bump and I flash her a sad smile. "...If I was told resting would help Ruairi survive, I wouldn't have left the bed."

"I know." I nod sincerely, watching the flicker of pain flash in her eyes. "I know my body, Chelle. And I know what it's capable of. I just really wanted to get up and out today." I pause, noting the fatigue in her expression. "Plus you're handling two businesses, sweetheart. You must be exhausted."

"Well I'm not doing that on my own. Sarah..." Her eyes dart to the clock. "Was due back from her lunch break twenty minutes ago... And Kate's got everything in hand at the bistro... Actually, I did say I'd pop in and check things are ticking along. It's first day of opening I don't want to leave her in the lurch. Oh, where the flamin' hell is Sarah?" She suddenly stresses, grabbing at the Underworld phone and I lower a hand over hers, stopping her.

Her eyes move up to mine, taking a moment to compose herself. "Go and see to Kate. I'll stay here." I push her and reluctance floods her expression. "Michelle I've been running this place for twelve years. I can do it in my sleep."

"...I'll be literally half an hour." She promises, standing and grabbing her coat, which relieves me slightly. "Don't go filling your head with too much complication."

"The babies aren't living in my head." I point out cockily.

"And don't start racing around the shop floor-"

"Goodbye, Michelle." I wave, cutting her fussing off abruptly and she pauses to run a hand through her hair before leaving.


Michelle

My eyes avert straight away to the greasy, silver-haired businessman sat at the bar as soon as I enter the bistro. Slumped over a mojito and saying something to make Kate laugh, my eyes instantly narrow, heading over to intervene.

"Everything alright?" I ask bluntly, prompting Kate to turn in my direction, professional smile plastered on her face. "He isn't bothering you, is he?"

"Not at all!" Kate beams, implying that he had clearly won her over. "Ray was just actually giving me some business tips. He owns a chain of hotels, you know? He suggests we give the place a bit of a makeover."

"Does he now?" I just forge through gritted teeth, the potent smell of his aftershave making me feel queasy. "Well Robert liked it like this."

Ray turns his head to me, daring to point out, "With all due respect, it isn't Robert's restaurant anymore."

"And it isn't yours either." I return cooly, watching the flicker of argumentation in his eyes. Kate shifts in slight discomfort at our exchange, unaware as to why I hated him so much. To be honest, even I was unaware as to why I hated him so much. Bribing and hinted misogyny aside, I was basing my opinion entirely off the fact that I did not trust Ray Crosby, not a pinch.

"Alright." He smirks slightly, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. "I was only here trying one of your very glamorous manager's cocktails." His eyes skirt over Kate's figure, which was enough to make my skin crawl. "Hey, do you make these for your boyfriend? I bet that gets you some brownie points, ey?"

"Kate's gay." I just input, before Kate can respond with something much less blunt and impolite. Ray's eyes drift back to me again, scoffing slightly. "So no, she doesn't."

"Michelle." Kate hisses in embarrassment at how open and rude I was being, but I just ignore her. I didn't like the way he had been eyeing her up since the second I entered the bistro. There was someone on his agenda and she was definitely off-limits.

"Blimey, there's a lot of dykes here, aren't there?" He fires the sentence so softly it almost doesn't sound like it should be offensive. I notice Kate shiver at the word, her face falling from how she had been defending him ten seconds prior. "Where am I? Coro-gay-tion street?"

I restrain myself from getting angry, just swallowing against the lump in my throat before warning, "don't use that kind of language in here. Else you're barred." And with that, I disappear into the kitchen, without listening to another word.

"...What's up?" Ryan asks as the door swings closed, studying my expression. He had been bent over the worktop chopping peppers for Zeedan, who looks unbothered at my interruption as he juggles three pans on the hob at once. Just the strong scent of fried onions was enough to make me cry. Or at least to use as an excuse. "Have table three complained again? Because I told them their lasagne would be ten minutes, five minutes ago. Impatient little-"

"No it's not table three." I just sigh, planting my head in my hands on the worktop. "Forget it." I compose myself, lurching back into action. "Right, Ryan, plates." I snap my fingers as I see them on the rack. "We're making Robert proud."


"Hey, are you alright?" I grab Kate's wrist as she passes me and she flinches slightly, pulling it back. We hadn't really had a conversation about the language Ray had used towards us both yesterday lunchtime. There had been tension between us both since I arrived at eleven and I was beginning to think it was my fault for involving myself in yesterday's conversation.

"Fine." She just forces a smile, moving past me to deliver two bowls of ramen to a nearby table. I watch her go, the way she anxiously tucks the corner of her polo neck back into the waistband of her skirt. Keeping her eyes to the floor as she passes me to the kitchen again. Something definitely wasn't right, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it.


"Surprised you're still here." Kate comments, her voice filling the entirety of the silent bistro now that everybody had left. I sit at the bar with a glass of wine, narrowing my eyes as she pulls her coat on. "Uh, I've wiped the coffee machine down, polished the cabinet with windowlene, done the stock check..." She consults the clipboard on the counter. "We need to order more orange juice, that's about it."

"Do you want a glass of wine?" I offer, smiling appreciatively as she places the clipboard under the counter.

She hesitates, eyes moving to my glass cautiously. "Don't you need to be getting back? You've been here all day."

"I do own the place." I crack a laugh and she just shrugs her shoulders slightly, not having a choice when I pour out the deep liquid into the spare glass next to me. "What's up, kid?"

"Hm?" She mumbles over the rim of the glass as she levels her eyes with mine, poising it in midair while she summons an excuse. "I told you, I'm fine."

"You're not."

"I just had an argument with Rana." She dismisses, taking another long gulp of wine before placing the glass carefully on the counter. I watch her fingers nervously move to the tail of her polo neck again, tucking it into her skirt as she had done multiple times throughout the day.

"So nothing to do with Ray then?" I dare to ask and she shivers dangerously at the mention of his name, which just confirms everything for me. Her fingers dance around the base of the glass, eyes avoidant, body frozen as memories rushed through her mind. My voice is soft now, "...Has he done something, Kate?" It's gentle and caring, and I think that's what gives her the encouragement to look me in the eye, her head nodding slowly. "...What did he do?"

Breath hitches in her throat, her tongue trailing along her lower lip in hesitation. I notice tears spring to her eyes ever so subtly, before she dares to admit, "...he tried to rape me."


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