Everything is Beautiful by Eleanor Ray (best classic romance novels txt) 📕

took a deep breath and allowed the air to fill her body. Breathing while he couldn’t. He hadn’t betrayed her. But she would never see him again.

She had to know why. To know how.

Amy put the mug on the side and turned back to the living room.

Chantel sat on the sofa, looking worried. ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Chantel.

‘How?’ asked Amy, feeling as though the question took all the breath in her body.

‘It’s a long story,’ said Chantel.

Amy could feel grief creeping into the edges of her mind like a migraine, about to take over again. ‘Tell me now.’

‘OK,’ said Chantel. ‘Here goes.’ She paused. ‘I don’t know if I can do this,’ she said. ‘I’ve wanted to for so long, but now I’m here.’ She stopped. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any more of that wine?’ she asked, looking at Amy’s glass.

‘You’ve been gone, without a word, for eleven years,’ said Amy. ‘And only now you come back to tell me that Tim is dead? No, Chantel. You can’t have a glass of wine.’

Chantel looked down. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘That’s fair.’ She paused. ‘Where to start?’ Chantel took a deep breath. ‘You know I was rubbish at picking men.’ She laughed, nervously. ‘A cliché really, the bad boy. Spike and his ridiculous white man dreadlocks. Drug dealing. You remember when he stitched me up and you had to come and get me from the police station?’

Amy nodded. Her head felt disconnected from the rest of her body.

‘Jack seemed different. He was respectable, going places. He even had a sensible haircut, for Christ’s sake.’ Chantel began fiddling with a loose thread on Amy’s silk cushion. ‘Well, it turns out he wasn’t so different to the others after all,’ she continued. ‘He wasn’t as nice as I thought.’ She glanced up at Amy. Amy saw the pain in her face.

‘It wasn’t so bad at first,’ continued Chantel. ‘He thought I should go to the gym more. I was a bit flabby.’

‘You weren’t,’ said Amy.

‘I thought it was a good thing,’ said Chantel. ‘Spike had helped me get drugs, and here was Jack helping me to get in shape. I thought some of his clean living and drive might rub off on me. I was such a screw-up.’

Amy opened her mouth to deny that, but Chantel held up her hand to stop her.

‘Then one day I skipped a gym session. I’d been out with some of the girls from work and was a bit hungover and I just wanted to watch telly. He was furious, called me a fat loser. Then he hit me.’

Amy gasped.

‘I tried to leave him,’ continued Chantel. ‘I broke up with him. Remember? I didn’t tell you why, I was embarrassed. But then he was so apologetic afterwards, and god knows I’ve made mistakes too. So I forgave him.’

‘You should have told me.’

‘I was ashamed,’ said Chantel. ‘And it was just the once. Until the next time. He didn’t always hit me. I overslept one time and he held a pillow down on my face. I still have nightmares, gasping for air when there isn’t any. I thought he was going to kill me, but he laughed it off, said I was overreacting. I told him I was going to leave him, and he said that if I did, he’d track me down. And that the next time it wouldn’t be a joke.’

Chantel looked at Amy. ‘Amy, I was terrified of him. And I was terrified to leave.’

‘You could have come to me.’

‘It was the first place he’d look. Your place and Mum’s. I knew what he was like when he got angry and I didn’t want him coming near you guys like that. He knew how much you meant to me.’

‘Did Tim know about Jack?’ Amy found she was tapping impatiently on the lighter.

‘No,’ said Chantel. ‘Jack despised Tim. Even though he saw how close you and I were, he still got it in his head that there was something going on with Tim and me. Then, while you were in Florence, Tim asked to see me. Alone.’

‘What for?’ asked Amy, squeezing the lighter in her hands.

‘He said it was important,’ continued Chantel. ‘I couldn’t meet him straight away, Jack would have gone ballistic if he’d found out. So I waited until Jack had a colleague’s leaving do, the day after you were back. We arranged to meet in secret.’

Amy felt sick. She looked up and saw Scarlett perched on a box, listening intently. ‘And Jack caught you together?’ said Amy.

‘It wasn’t like that,’ said Chantel, her voice hurried. ‘It wasn’t. Amy, you have to believe me.’

‘Tell me what it was like,’ said Amy.

‘We met in Abletree Park,’ continued Chantel.

‘The place where the photo was taken,’ said Amy.

‘I took that snap while I was waiting. I thought you’d like the colours of the sunset, it reminded me of one of your paintings. I printed it later, for you to see where it happened. The last thing that Tim saw . . . ’

‘How kind,’ said Amy. She could feel years of doubt and frustration and anger leaking out as sarcasm.

‘Just listen,’ said Chantel. ‘Tim wanted to talk about you,’ she said. ‘He was going to propose.’

Amy sat back. It was what she wanted to hear, but it felt as if she’d been hit by one of Charles’s JCBs. ‘The ring,’ she said, reaching for it.

‘Yes, the ring,’ replied Chantel. ‘He’d handed it to me to take a look at and he wanted advice on how to ask you. Of course I tried it on. That’s why I still had it after . . . ’

‘What happened?’ asked Amy.

‘Jack must have followed me,’ said Chantel. ‘I told him I was going to the gym and like I said, he had a leaving do. But after I’d hugged Tim, I saw him. Standing there. Watching us.’

Amy looked at Chantel. She’d stopped fiddling with the thread and was gripping the cushion.

‘He was silent at first,’ she continued. ‘Then he started running at