Normally, Jess would have basked in her friend’s admiration, but today there was no way Libby’s words could be construed as a compliment. A niggle of unease made Jess examine their earlier phone call, searching for clues, but the only thing she came up with was Libby had sounded slightly distracted. For the previous year, Libby had been obsessed with having another baby. Once, when Nick had been replacing faucet washers, Jess had managed to draw him out on his feelings about another child.

“I think we should accept it’s not going to happen and move on.”

Jess had almost cried in relief. As much as she understood Libby’s desire for a son of her own, Jess didn’t want another baby drawing Nick’s attention away from her and Leo. As it was, it took all her energy to keep hold of the small share of him she’d managed to carve out.

Jess flicked on the kettle and lifted two mugs from their hooks.

Libby’s hands gripped the back of a kitchen chair. “Nick told me Leo is his.”

Like an Arctic chill, a tingle swooped Jess from head to toe. The mugs slipped from her numb fingers, hitting the floor and shattering. A tiny part of her brain prompted her to pick up the scattered shards but her body refused to move a muscle. Her mind scrambled frantically to the early days after Leo’s birth, when Libby had flown up to Sydney on her own for a quick visit. In anticipation, Jess had written a script just in case Libby caught on to Nick being Leo’s father. But when Libby had gazed down at Jess’s son, all she’d said was, “He’s got your nose! He’s utterly perfect. I’m so happy for you.”

When Jess had moved to the bay, the script was still on hand, but as the weeks and months passed, she’d discarded it as obsolete. Libby didn’t suspect a thing and Jess had done everything she could to keep it that way and protect their friendship.

But now her best friend’s face was contorted in vicious hatred and rage.

“You lying, cheating bitch! You told me you used donor sperm to have Leo.”

“I did.”

“Nick’s not a sperm donor.”

“We share each other’s stuff all the time. I just borrowed a part of him.”

“He’s my husband!” Libby screamed and Jess’s heart galloped. She scrambled to remember the words and phrases she’d worked so hard to develop in case this situation ever eventuated. Words that would make Libby understand that this was just another facet of their very close friendship.

“I know it’s a shock, but you have to know I’d never deliberately hurt you.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Libby’s hand hit the table. “You’ve been having sex with my husband!”

“That’s no—”