I know I keep saying this, but I am sorry for leaving all my fics so long before I update them. I promise you (and I mean it this time) I'll try my hardest to get them done quicker. It's usually me, I'll have 6 chapters written and then forget where I've posted it after three and leave it. For those of you still reading, thanks for sticking with it. It makes posting this worthwhile :)

Nina

Two Beds and a Coffee Machine

Part 3

As the early morning sun filtered through her bedroom window, Monica almost believed things were back to the way they used to be. Back to before Ethan started staying out late, coming home smelling of perfume. Telling Monica it was all her fault, she had driven him to it. But now, with the rays falling gently over her face she could forget all of that. Pretend that Ethan loved her, and that she loved him. Pretend everything was perfect.

Try and hide the bruises.

Walking down the stairs, her silk dressing gown wrapped tightly around her body, she was suddenly struck by how quite it was. Ethan would be at work, and even if he'd dropped Henry off at kindergarten and Anna at pre-school, Lottie should still be around making a noise somewhere. Monica began to get more and more panicked, scared that Ethan had taken her babies while she was sleeping. It was only when she walked into the living room, that her question was answered. Perched on their wooden mantelpiece was a note. Monica unfolded it and read out loud,

Monica, sorry again for last night. It was a one off. Have taken Henry & Anna to school and Lottie is at daycare. Thought I'd give you a break.

Love, Ethan

Monica didn't trust him for one second. She knew exactly what he was like, but for the moment she decided to leave it. There was no point getting worked up when she couldn't change anything yet. And, the envelope positioned behind her note had already caught her eye. It was pretty, prettier than the usual junk mail she usually received. The lettering was printed, elegant and gold set against an off white background. Monica stared at the envelope for longer than she did the letter, it was just so elegant, something she had not received in a long time. Slowly, so as not to tear it, she opened it up and extracted the card that fell from within. It was in the same style as the envelope, but this said,

Miss Rachel K Green cordially invites you to her wedding to Mr Tag W Jones.

Monica gasped, "Rachel" she whispered, fully aware that there was no one home. Rachel had chosen to invite her, Monica, to the wedding. She obviously still meant something to someone. Even though Monica knew it was just the standard invite sent to everyone on their mailing list, it sparked something inside of her. Something which told her that she still had a value. No matter what she might think.

"Ethan ... " she began warily, her make-up intact and his favourite green dress on, "You remember Rachel?"

"Sure" he replied, nodding as he looked through his mail, "Why?"

"Well ... ", she paused, she had to take this very carefully. She knew he was likely to snap if she phrased it wrong, "Well, she's getting married and she sent us an invite this morning and I just wondered if you wanted to go" She stopped, out of breath, waiting for his reaction.

"You can't go. You have to look after the kids"

Monica felt her anger welling up, "I'm sure you could cope for a few days. It wouldn't kill you"

He stopped reading and turned to face her, "Monica. I have things I need to do, I don't need kids in my way. You wanted them. You look after them"

"You bastard" she whispered as he walked out of the room. The next thing she heard was the sound of her head hitting the wooden floor as his fist made contact with her cheek.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that!" he roared, bringing his fists down on her, "Don't you even think about it if you know what's good for you, you little whore"

Monica shrank into herself. Drawing as far away from his fists as she could get, unable to block out the insults.

"Fat cow ... ugly ... whore ... unfit mother ... slag ... fat ... slut ... fat ... ugly ..."

He eventually left, leaving her alone, broken and bruised on their living room floor. Monica wanted nothing more than to jump up and run to Rachel's wedding. Run all the way if she had to, but something held her back. She didn't understand what, she never would. But that something refused to let her leave.