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Back The Marriage Trap: A completely addictive psychological thriller Save as PDF
Chapters (60)
  1. Cover
  2. Books by Sheryl Browne
  3. Dedication
  4. KARLA
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Thirty-Three
  38. Thirty-Four
  39. Thirty-Five
  40. Thirty-Six
  41. Thirty-Seven
  42. Thirty-Eight
  43. Thirty-Nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-One
  46. Forty-Two
  47. Forty-Three
  48. Forty-Four
  49. Forty-Five
  50. Forty-Six
  51. Forty-Seven
  52. Forty-Eight
  53. Epilogue
  54. The Affair
  55. Hear more from Sheryl
  56. Books by Sheryl Browne
  57. A Letter from Sheryl
  58. The Babysitter
  59. The Second Wife
  60. Acknowledgements

Hearing him saying hello to his sister on the phone in the bedroom, I head onwards, only to stop again as his mobile beeps atop the hall table. Mark calling with a progress report, I wonder. My gaze flicking to the stairs, I hesitate for a second and then pick it up to check his messages – and my stomach turns over. Too stunned even to breathe, I stare – confused, at first, and then disbelieving at what I glean is a profile photograph. A sexually explicit photograph: a near-naked, voluptuous woman with her breasts spilling out. On my husband’s phone? I almost laugh at the absurdity of it, and then work to control the explosion of bewildered emotion inside me.

It’s a mistake, I tell myself. Some random message sent by… Who? Why? My mouth dry, I check the stairs again, and then brace myself to thumb up through the preceding messages.

Fill me in tomorrow, Jason’s last text reads. Cheers for your efforts, mate. I owe you.

My hands trembling, my senses reeling, I scroll up to the next.

And my heart stops dead. Lucky git. Has she got a sister? Jason had asked.

My blood turns to ice as I realise he’s actually scored her. Ten out of ten. Nausea churning my stomach, I squeeze my eyes closed. Dimly, I register Jason ending his phone call upstairs.

‘I’ll drop by next week,’ he tells Hannah. ‘Sorry I can’t stop. I’m due in the office.’

Is he? I swallow back the parched lump in my throat. Is it really his office he’s so eager to get to? Where he’s been going all these weekends? Is it even his actual sister he’s talking to?

It is. I heard him. ‘Hi, Hannah,’ he’d greeted her. They talk occasionally on the phone but don’t see each other often enough. They drifted apart after the family split up. I’m reminded of the fact that Jason’s childhood wasn’t a good one. That his adoptive parents stayed together until being together became intolerable. That they were both unhappy, his mother desperately so, because his father cheated. My father cheats. Do all men fucking well cheat? My fury surfaces, white-hot, rising inside me.

Breathing in hard through my nostrils, I try to dampen it down. I have to stay in control. Inhaling another long breath, I exit his messages and place the phone back.

Attempting some level of outward calm, I fix my smile in place and, though the strength seems to have drained from my body, force myself on to the kitchen. He hasn’t done anything, I try to reassure myself, other than indulge in immature chat. Yet. My sluggish heartbeat drums a prophetic warning in my chest. He’s toying with the idea though, isn’t he?

Six

JASON