I sit in the kitchen trying not to think about Roseanne upstairs getting ready for her night out. I forced myself to agree. I'm regretting it now. Grabbing my phone, I dial Roseanne's mother.
'What's wrong?' she answers in greeting.
'Nothing's wrong.' My face twists. 'What are you up to tonight?' I ask, all casual, catching the kids' eyes where they're sitting at the island finishing off their dinner. They know my game. I raise my finger to my lips, a sign to keep my secret.
'I'm out,' Elizabeth declares. 'Bridge and cocktails.'
Fuck it. 'Okay, have a lovely time.' I hang up and beat the marble worktop with my fingertips, thinking. 'Ah!' I quickly dial Vince. 'Hey, big man,' I chirp down the line.
'No.' His gruff, flat reply has me frowning.
'What?'
'It's Somi's night. No, I won't watch the kids so you can stalk your wife.'
I snarl. 'Some friend you are.'
'Fuck you. Have you heard from Hyuna?'
My mood plummets further. 'No, why? Should I have?'
'Just checking. I'm hoping she's gonna fuck off soon, because, frankly, I'm sick of looking at her miserable face.'
I flinch on Hyuna's behalf. 'Tell her to go, Vince.'
'I can't do it. I've fucking tried, but your damn uncle Anurak is in my ear like an annoying fucking gnat, telling me to do right by her or he'll haunt my motherfucking ass.'
I smile a little, but I'm mad, too. 'You owe her nothing. Uncle Anurak owes her nothing.'
'Tell that to a dead man,' he grunts, hanging up.
I fall into thought, going back to my past briefly. Then I catch the kids giving me wary looks. 'What?'
'Don't do it, Momma,' Maddie sing-songs. 'She'll tear your head off and use it as a football.'
'You'll regret it,' Jacob warns.
Scowling at my kids, I march out of the kitchen and head upstairs where Roseanne's getting ready. So what am I supposed to do? Sit home all night worrying to death?
I find her in her underwear standing in the mirror. I groan. What's she trying to do to me? 'You look lovely,' I grunt, slumping my ass on the bed.
She looks at me in the reflection, a smile playing at the corners of her nude lips as she tweaks her hair into position. 'I'm not dressed yet.'
I shrug, pouting like a moody schoolgirl. 'You still look lovely.'
'You come to mark me?'
I look to the door, hearing the kids in the kitchen downstairs. My scope for marking is limited.
'What do you think of this?'
I return my eyes to Roseanne, finding her holding up a little black dress. I just shake my head. Negative. 'What about this?' A green thing appears, and once again I reject it. She sighs, sweeping her arm out to the wardrobe. 'Choose a dress, any dress.'
Good. She's getting the hang of this. It takes me five seconds flat to find something suitable – a high-necked, long-sleeved, full-length jersey dress. 'Perfect,' I declare.
'I'm not wearing that.' The dress is snatched from my hand and put back on the rail. She quickly takes another down and goes back to the bedroom. 'And stop sulking.'
'You're not wearing that, either,' I call, trudging after her. She's pulling the stupid gold thing on by the time I make it to the bedroom, a salacious grin on her face. 'Why'd you have to be so damn beautiful?'
