At midnight her doorbell rang.
She opened her eyes, remaining still on the sofa, staring into the darkness. It rang again. She felt her entire body tense, fear prickling at her scalp.
"Zoe!"
Max shouted her name. She exhaled, but still remained where she was.
"ZOE!"
He shouted louder, his voice echoing in her hall, the clatter of her letterbox and he shouted again. She swore under her breath, thinking of the neighbours.
She rolled uncomfortably off the sofa, padding stiffly to the door. She opened it just enough to see out.
"What are you doing?!"
She hissed, keeping her voice down, glancing to check the neighbouring houses were still in darkness.
"I need to talk to you."
He spoke loudly and she raised a finger to her lips, frowning.
"So you can tell me all about your bit on the side? I don't want to hear it."
She pushed the door to close it but he slipped his fingers around it, wedging them in between the door and the frame. She pushed it harder, contemplating slamming it anyway.
"Fuck, Zoe let me in?!"
He kicked the door in frustration, his fingers swelling almost instantly. She stepped back, letting the door swing open, only the street light outside illuminated them.
"What is it then? What could you possibly have to say?"
She asked. He pushed the door shut behind himself and reached out to flick on the light. She shielded her eyes and blinked against the brightness.
"I wasn't doing what you thought I was doing."
He stepped closer. The tell tale scent of perfume on his skin.
She remained silent, just looking at him for a moment.
"Yesterday you told me you loved me. Today you fuck some whore after I miscarry your child?!"
She almost laughed when she eventually spoke.
His eyes were wide, his pupils dilated.
"I didn't..."
He began, pausing as she laughed at him, shaking her head.
"I do love you."
He whispered.
She raised an eyebrow, looking at him again.
"You've got a fucking funny way of showing it."
Her voice was low, and she touched the side of her head, craving a cigarette.
"I didn't fuck her..."
He tried again, moving once more toward her but she stepped back, holding up her hands to halt him.
"So what did you do Max? Hmm? Did you lure her in with your charm like you did me? Did you kiss her? Did you have sex with her...make love to her? What DO you want to call it?"
He opened his mouth to reply before realising she hadn't finished.
"You know what, don't bother, whatever it was, that's it. Whatever we had, it's finished."
She made to turn back into the sitting room but he caught her by the arm.
"Fine. If you want to erase everything like that. If you want to play the victim. What if I did fuck her...Tess would love it wouldn't she?"
His words came as a shock, she felt the realisation begin to sink in.
"So that's just what you do is it? With women? Find them, feel them, fuck them and forget them?And as for me wanting to 'play' the victim? Fuck you."
She hissed, her voice much steadier than she felt.
He looked back at her, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He seemed to be thinking something over, his lips drawn into a tight white line.
"What can I do?"
He asked finally. His voice changed, an air of defiance to it.
"I don't think there's anything that you can do. I think you did it."
She shook her arm free, all this time he had been holding it.
"When I came to Holby I was the type of man who was capable of doing shit things like what you think I've done. But you've made me a better man."
She rolled her eyes.
"Oh, fuck off, Max, that's not even grammatically correct let alone factually. It's not my job to make you a better man and I don't give a shit if I've made you a better man. It's not a fucking woman's job to be consumed and invaded and spat out so that some fucking man can evolve."
"That's not what I meant."
He ran a hand over his face, he was sweating.
"What the fuck are you talking about, then, Max? You give me one reason why you think that I should forgive you for leaving me after what happened, without saying where you were going...and then not calling!"
She raised her hands, waiting for his response, her stomach hurting, still raw from losing their child.
"Because I'm a fuck-up. I couldn't handle it...any of it. Tess made it look so easy... I made a big, big mistake..."
"Ugh. Please...I'm forty, I'm not a teenager. In fact, do you know what? Yesterday was my birthday. I miscarried our child on my fortieth birthday, and now you've fucked off with someone else. What a way to begin "the prime of life" eh?"
She watched as he looked back at her, open mouthed.
"Zoe, I'm sorry..."
She laughed, a low cackling laugh as she started to walk away again.
"Zoe...what can I do? Zoe?"
He made to follow her but she stopped and turned to face him.
"What I want is for you to write "fuck me" on your chest. Write it. Do it! And then I want you to walk out of that door and I want you to walk down the street, and anybody that wants to fuck you, say, "Sure! Sure! No problem!" And when they do, you have to say, "Thank you very, very much." And make sure that you have a smile on your face. And then, you stupid fucking coward, you'll know what it feels like to be me right now. Now get out."
More tomorrow...unless I can stay awake. (Apologies for all the F words!) xxx