Hello! I know, I know, it's been far too long...I just got my laptop back from repair today (finally) and of course this latest chapter was on it, so I had to wait. Anyway, this story won't be dragged out too much longer – sorry about the wait, and here's chapter eighteen :)

I wake up the next morning tucked up safely in Troy's arms, feeling quite content. Until I feel him starting to get up.

"Troy, what day is it?" I ask, my voice muffled. I know the answer perfectly well, but I'm trying to make a point here.

"It's Saturday," he answers in an amused tone, punctuating the end of his sentence with a kiss on my head.

"Exactly. So it's against the law to get up early."

"That's what people say about Sundays, Gabi," he reminds me with a laugh. "Anyway, I have to go and meet your dad at the office, remember?"

Damn. I did a really good job of forgetting about everything from last night, didn't I?

"You know, I'm sure you don't really have to go in today. Only workaholics like Dad visit their offices at the weekend," I tease with a grin. I want a few more minutes of banter before I have to think about anything else. "Besides, now he knows the truth!"

Troy smiles and starts getting ready. "Yep. But we still don't know how Tim got found out, so..."

And that's all it takes for me to jump up and start throwing on my clothes. "Oh right! Somehow I'd blocked that part out...I'm going to have to come in with you, Troy - I want to hear this too."

He simply chuckles as he watches me running around his flat like a mad woman, finding all of my things.

.HSM.

Dad looks sheepish as Troy opens the door of his office. But he looks even worse when he spots me following in behind him.

"Ah. Good morning, Troy. Gabriella..."

"Hi Dad," I smile casually at him. "Don't mind me, I'm just here to find out the news first-hand."

He raises his eyebrows, but says nothing more to me. Probably wondering how I managed to get up so early after working all week.

It was worth it to know we were going to find out how Tim got caught.

"Well then, you'll be wanting to know exactly what happened last night."

Er, yes!

"Frank came by the office last night, and while he was picking up some paperwork, Tim's wife phoned. She said her husband left his email account open at home."

I can see where this is going. But really, how much of an idiot is this man? He's not very good at covering his tracks – otherwise we wouldn't have been suspicious of him in the first place!

"Mrs Morris came in this morning to give me the printed copies of all the emails. There were quite a few, as it turns out." Dad's tone is morose as he drops the pile of papers on his desk in front of us.

I daren't crack a smile in relief, and neither does Troy as he speaks up.

"So Tim must have..."

"Hacked into your company email account and framed you, yes. I'm afraid so. I owe you one very large apology, Troy," says Dad.

"It's okay, I understand," he nods.

It's not okay really. Not in my book. But I haven't got the heart to have another go at my father. It's not like he's not suffering for it.

"Well, I won't take up any more of your time on your day off – go and take my daughter out somewhere nice, will you?" He's teasing now, and I inwardly cringe at his attempt at a joke.

But as usual, Troy takes it in his stride. "Oh, I intend to sir," he beams proudly.

"If you want to take these emails to read over, be my guest," Dad suggests, picking up the thick pile and offering it to him. "You deserve to know exactly how Tim tried to set you up, and what for. He sent a number of messages to people from his home account, and even those ones detailed how he was posing as you via a work email address." He shakes his head in disbelief.

"Thanks," Troy takes the stack from him, and we turn to leave.

"I'll be talking to the little sod later on – it'll be interesting to see how he tries to wriggle his way out of it. I'll keep you informed, son. Off you go now. And Gabriella?" he gestures for me to walk over to him while Troy waits outside.

"I'm sorry," he tells me, patting me on the arm.

Well, that must have taken a lot for him to say to my face.

"I know how much you like Troy. And you trusted in him when I didn't. I know that was a big thing for you, after losing Matt..."

Losing him? God, one day I'm going to have to tell him and Mum everything. They think I'm still broken-hearted and that Matt was the love of my life. I was too embarrassed to tell my parents that I should never have married him in the first place because he's a nasty piece of work.

But anyway...

"You don't have to say all this. It's alright. But...thanks. The thing is, I don't just like Troy. I love him, Dad."

Now I've surprised him. See? He must have thought I really wasn't over Matt.

"Well. I see. And he feels the same way?"

A smile creeps up on me as I turn to see Troy loitering outside the office.

"Yes, he does," I reply.

My father smiles back. "Then I'm very happy for you."

A conversation of very few words; but it's one of the most sentimental moments I've had with one of my parents in years. Wow. "Bye, Dad."

Troy's gaze is questioning as I walk out to meet him, and we head out of the building and back to his car.

"My Dad is happy for me. Well, for us," I say. It's more like a statement than it is an answer.

"You sound surprised," he chuckles.

"Well, it's just that for years, I haven't seen eye to eye with my parents and now...now it's as if they've finally accepted my own choices. I never told them what really happened with Matt because they told me not to get married so young and I never listened. And then look what happened."

Troy shakes his head as we reach the car and sit down. "How were you to know what was coming? The important thing is that you came through it. You should tell your Mum and Dad – I'll be there with you, if you want me to be."

"That'll be a very awkward conversation. But thanks, - I'll think about it," I tell him. "So, where are we going now?"

"Taking you somewhere nice," he recites Dad's words as he starts up the car. "Not sure where yet though!"

"Shall we start with breakfast? I'm starving," I reply.

He chuckles, then nods his head. "Okay. Breakfast it is!"

.HSM.

By the late afternoon, I receive an unexpected phone call just as Troy decides to go back to the office to find out Tim's fate – taking all the paperwork with him to read up on.

It turns out to be Sophie Morris.

"I just wanted to call because I'm guessing that by now, you've heard all about what Tim's been up to," she says, getting straight to the point.

"Er, yeah..." I reply awkwardly. "Troy and I were at the office this morning. My father told us it was you who alerted them to what was going on."

"Yes. I can assure you I had no idea until last night, when I came across all those emails. How is Troy? I'm still in shock to think that my husband is capable of all this," Sophie sighs.

"Troy's fine, really. Listen, are you free this afternoon? Do you fancy going for a late lunch? You sound as though you need a bit of cheering up."

The words flow from me without a second thought. This poor woman is already upset enough; I can't bear to imagine what it would do to her if she found out what else Tim has been getting up to.

Sophie finally agrees to meet me after I manage to assure her that it's no trouble. So we end up at the same café we went to the other day.

"Hi," she greets me as I spot her, already sitting at a table outside. Her smile is as sincere as ever; but she looks tired.

I sit down and smile back. "Hi. Are you...alright?"

"Well, I think so," she replies. "Tim left before lunch – said he had to go to the office to do some paperwork. I didn't have the energy to let on that I know everything."

Well, not quite everything, I can't help thinking. "Yeah, Dad said he'd be talking to him at some point today."

"I keep thinking back over the last few months, when he told me he had to work late. I've barely seen him. And all this time he was plotting to take over your father's business and ruin him. I mean, we live comfortably enough – it's not as if we needed the money. Money that's not his to take charge of!"

I can't quite manage a reply yet. If that man has been neglecting his wife, it certainly isn't just due to the deceit against Troy and my father.

Suddenly I can no longer take it. Poor Sophie can't be having much of a life with this pathetic excuse for a man. If I'm supposed to be a friend to her, perhaps I should start by doing what any other true friend would do.

By telling her the truth.

"Listen, Sophie. There's something you should know..."

I look up at her curious face, but am then distracted by an ear-piercing shriek of laughter a few tables away. From where I'm sitting, I have a perfect view. I can see exactly where the noise is coming from. A man and a woman have just sat down together, and the woman – blonde, short skirt, pencil-thin – is cackling away at something he has said to her.

Sophie doesn't bother to turn around, but tuts at the loud interruption. "It's impossible to have a peaceful lunch out sometimes, isn't it? Sorry Gabi, what were you going to say?"

"Er..." My eyes have averted from her face yet again, because I have suddenly realised who the man at that table is.

That probably has something to do with the fact that he's heading inside - giving me the chance to get a closer look at him.

When he vanishes from sight, I turn my attention back to Sophie and clear my throat.

"I really need to tell you something; and in the last few minutes it's gone from being awkward to quite urgent. It's about your husband - and this time it's not about the business."

Her mouth drops open in shock; and as she is clearly speechless, I carry on – keeping my eye on the door to make sure Vile Tim hasn't returned yet. He hasn't.

"He came into my salon the day of that dinner party - before I even knew who he was - and tried his best to chat me up. I said no. But then of course, he turned out to be working for my father. I've been wanting to tell you since I met you, to be honest, but I felt that it wasn't my place to..."

"I don't know why you're saying these things to me, Gabriella, but my husband's not like that. He wouldn't cheat – we're about to have a baby, for goodness' sake!" I wince at her offended tone.

"I'm so sorry, Sophie. But it's the truth. The last thing I want to do is distress you, but I think it's important that I tell you now. I've just seen him. He's here. With another woman," I tell her.

At that moment, I spot Tim walking back to his table. By the time Sophie pulls herself together enough to turn around - daring to check whether what I'm telling her could really be true – he has slipped back into his seat and she has a clear view of him.

It happens so fast. One minute she is turning back to me, eyes widened in shock; the next she has hoisted herself out of her chair in one angry movement and is storming towards her husband and his 'other woman'.

A part of me wants to follow her to make sure she doesn't collapse with the stress, and also to watch what happens. But it's not my place; and I have a feeling I'll be able to hear everything from here regardless.

"So, this is what you've been doing with your time, is it? Oh, along with dabbling in a bit of dodgy dealing!" Sophie's voice is loud enough to halt every other conversation outside the café, and I see everyone's heads jerk in the direction of a heavily pregnant woman who doesn't care who hears her upcoming rant.

Vile Tim is standing up, a sheepish smile on his face. "Darling! This really isn't what you..."

"Oh, don't tell me! This is a client? An old friend? A lost-lost sister? I think not. I don't know how you even have the nerve to lie to my face yet again. I'm pregnant, not a moron."

The woman at his table stands up next. "Excuse me, but who are you?"

"Well, this just gets better by the minute. I'm his wife, and by the look on your face I gather he never told you he was married with a baby on the way," states Sophie.

Wow. I was worried that my revelation would cause her to crumble on the spot; but she's really going for it over there. I doubt Tim Morris has ever been spoken to like that in his life. Mind you, I have yet to find out what my father said to him earlier.

The woman doesn't waste any time in making her exit; but by this point Tim's attention is nowhere near her anyway.

"Darling, why don't we go somewhere private and have a talk..."

"You know what, darling? Let's not." And with that, she picks up the bottle of wine that's been placed on Tim's table – conveniently already opened before this little scene unfolded – and pours its contents all over his head.

He screeches out as she slams the bottle back down on the table, and tries to run after her. But for a pregnant woman Sophie moves remarkably fast. She has already reached me by the time her husband can see straight again.

She grabs her bag from her seat and storms out, and I stand up and follow her out. We both ignore Tim as he yells after her, and finally come to a stop as we reach her car. I'm breathless by this point, having had to run to catch up with Sophie (while also wanting to get as far away from that man as possible myself).

She looks at me as if to ask that I come with her, so I nod and we get in. She drives away just as Vile Tim comes into view, trying and failing to chase after his wife.

"Come on," I say gently. "Let's go back to my flat – I'll show you the way."

.HSM.

Sophie left an hour ago, saying she would head over to stay the night with her sister who lives nearby – she didn't feel up to returning to the house tonight, or seeing him.

In the end she actually thanked me for telling her the truth, even though it's clearly broken her heart. I really feel for her; I know exactly what it's like. I was just lucky I didn't have any kids with Matt that would have kept me tied to him for the rest of my life.

Troy's been here ever since he returned from the office with the news that Tim has been well and truly sacked. Not that the man was bothered too much. Nor was he in the least bit sorry for what he'd done. I'd thought as much when I'd spotted him looking care-free in that café.

"The man actually tried to make the emails look like I wrote them...unbelievable!" Troy is saying.

"What an..."

"...Arsehole," he finishes for me, grinning despite the subject at hand.

"Hang on a..." my voice falters as I spot something on the pile of emails in front of us. It's the name in the solicitor's email address.

Troy leans over and puts his hand on mine. "Gabi? Everything okay?"

"The name on the..." I now seem to be incapable of finishing a sentence. "I think it's Matt." I realise that I'm still making very little sense; but I'm half stunned, half angry at myself for not making this connection sooner!

"What do you mean?"

I take a deep breath and try again. "Matt – he's a solicitor." I can't believe this didn't cross my mind before.

Troy's eyes widen as he scans the papers again, then looks back at me. "You mean he's been behind all this too?"

"Well, I know the email address doesn't include his surname but...I've got a very strong feeling all of a sudden. And I wouldn't put anything past him." In the next second I've jumped up from the sofa and grabbed the phone. "I'm going to call my dad."

After a couple of rings, my mother answers. When she realises that it's me, she tries to bombard me with questions – it's as if she thinks I'm never going to call the house ever again!

Well, okay. I never call my parents. But that's not the point; now is not the time for Mum to be so...Mum. "Look, I can't talk right now, can you please just put Dad on the phone? It's urgent."

My tone obviously does the trick, because half a minute later my father is on the line.

"Gabriella?" He sounds more than a bit confused. As well he might, since I don't even phone to say 'hello' on a whim, let alone to have a go at him.

I compose my response carefully; but deep down I'm already certain that I'm right. "Dad, please tell me that this solicitor friend of yours is not my ex-husband?"

The silence I get in return is enough to confirm what I already knew.

And now everything is starting to fall into place...