All Chapters of Too Late to Regret, The Substitute Wife Left: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Andrew’s POVBack at the villa, Charlotte took Oliver to the pool. She was less than impressed when I told I didn’t want to go. Her tone was curt as she narrowed her eyes at me.“This is supposed to be a family vacation,” she’d said.“We’re here to help Oliver,” I snapped back. “Not for a vacation.”Oliver was holding her hand, a mask and snorkel in the other hand, his shark-print swim trunks a little loose around his waist. He hadn’t said a single word since the car ride home.Glancing down at his hands, I saw clearly for the first time how raw and red they were, chapped at the knuckles.“Go. Have fun. I just need some time to clear my head,” I said softly, not wanting Oliver to see how upset I really was inside.So they left, although Charlotte wasn’t very happy about me not joining them. The loud slamming of the door displayed her anger and annoyance towards me.It didn’t matter though. Now that they were gone, I had the space I needed to think things through. Stepping outside ont

Julia’s POV“These things don’t happen overnight,” Mira told me as she laid back in her lounger. “They take time. You’ll get there. I’m sure of it.” She laced her hands behind her head and closed her eyes. “God, isn’t the sun glorious today?”We were sitting outside Mira’s house at her private infinity pool that overlooked the ocean. Her chef had prepared us a charcuterie board, full of imported cheeses, figs, nuts, and cured meats. I nibbled a piece of cheese as I nodded.I’d popped in to visit Mira before my dinner with Charles tonight, mainly because I needed to discuss my issues with getting Oliver to open up. As a professor, I trusted Mira’s professional opinion, and as a friend, I was counting on her to give me some unbiased advice.I was set to see Oliver first thing tomorrow morning, but I was nervous. What if the appointment went like the last one? He’d refused to answer my questions and I’d felt like a failure, both as a mother and as a psychologist.So I’d filled Mira in on

Julia’s POVCharles was already waiting for me as I entered the restaurant, escorted by the hostess to my table. The room was elegant, with white table cloths, candlelit centre pieces, and sparking chandeliers. The aroma of seared meat filtered out of the kitchen as white-gloved waiters weaved their way through the tables.Charles rose as I approached. He was wearing a dark brown suede sports blazer and matching brown tie. He flashed me a smile as he came around to pull out my seat for me.“Julia,” he said as he took his own seat. “You look stunning.”“Thank you,” I smiled at him.Glancing at the table, I saw that he’d already ordered us each a glass of wine.“It’s a vintage merlot from a winery I’m quite fond of,” he said, his eyes sparkling in the glow of the candlelight. “I hope that’s okay?”He was so sweet and caring, and my heart melted a bit. “Yes, that sounds perfect,” I told him.“It’s a fixed menu,” he told me. “Five courses. So I hope you brought your appetite.”Everything w

Andrew’s POV“Sir? Can I offer you some food?”Looking up, I saw the waitress standing at my table, a polite smile on her face.“Another one of these,” I said, pushing my empty glass towards her. I was aware of the fact that I was slurring slightly, but I didn’t care.“I really think you should eat something,” the waitress said. “We have a late night menu and…”“Who the hell are you? My mother?” I snapped at her. She recoiled. “I’m sorry,” I added. “I’ve had a rough day. Please, just…get me another drink.”She nodded, but her expression was scrupulous as she whisked the empty glass from the table. For all intents and purposes, the waitress was right. I probably should eat something. The whiskey was going right to my head. But food would interfere with the buzz I had going on, and the buzz was intentional.My phone pinged. With my vision a bit blurred, I squinted and read the message.“Where the hell are you? It was one thing to stand us up for dinner, but it’s getting late. Andrew, yo

Julia’s POVIt took me a bit to get Andrew out of the bar. He was stumbling, and I struggled under his weight. But I managed.Outside, it had started to rain. Not heavily, just a drizzle, an unusual thing for San Diego. The rain smelled sweet, and I inhaled it, glad to have a respite from the thick cigar smoke inside.Glancing up and down the street, I didn’t see any cabs. Given the late hour, the roads weren’t very busy.“I don’t have an umbrella,” Andrew chuckled sardonically. “I left it at home.” He continued talking, some string of jibberish, nonsensical words about rain in San Diego. Ignoring him, I looked up and down the street again, but there were no cabs in sight. So, I set Andrew against the wall and told him to stay put as I fetched my phone from my purse. I’d have to call a cab, which would mean a longer wait.Once I’d placed the call, there was nothing to do but wait.“Is he your boyfriend?” Andrew’s voice cut through the air, slurred but loud. When I looked at him, he