If anyone asked me if I preferred a messy house to a clean house, I'd have to say messy or a little bit messy. Simply because as a cleaner, I would have something to do and it was my job to make the place habitable. 

As it currently stood, I was wasting Zak's money being in his home, yes there was things I could do, but it was minimal tasks which take less than a couple minutes and I, as his cleaner was having to drag out each job. 

With a harsh sigh, I toss the glass rag back into the caddy and stare at the electric fireplace. It wasn't dirty to begin with, but for the sake of his 'allergies' I cleaned it. 

"That's a heavy sigh." Zak speaks alerting me to his presence in the room. 

Our earlier conversation had been cut off by a phone call from his museum manager, it seemed important and I hustled out the kitchen, closing the door as I left. 

"Is there something wrong with you?" I ask turning on my knees to look up at him from across the room. He seems slightly offended at my question, which is why I add on. "Because you are the most neatest of men I've ever came across. I'm beginning to doubt that you even need a cleaner, or that you have another one that comes in when I'm not here..."

He laughs "Well I don't, just to settle your mind."

"Hmm... I'm not sure I am convinced." I answer getting off the floor. 

"As for being neat? You haven't seen my office at the museum."

"But your home is always clean. It makes me feel a little incompetent."

"Would you prefer if I was a slob and made it a mess just for you to clean?" He asks looking slightly serious. 

"I'm not sure. I just feel guilty for taking your money when the jobs are small. I need to find a corner of your home that is really bad." I decide. 

"If there was one, it's because my cleaner hasn't been doing their job. Which falls back to you. The house is clean because that's how good you are at your job."

I chuckle "Smooth."

"It was wasn't it?" He asks with a smirk back. 

"So is there anything I can help you with?" 

Zak nods as if remembering why he had came to find me. "Uh yeah, I need to go to the museum, so I'm gonna be in my room and bathroom getting ready."

"And you don't want me coming in there. Got it. I can find other things to do. I can do your laundry or walk Gracie for you?"

"I was gonna ask if you could scrub my back." He jokes making me laugh.

"Can I take a rain check on that? I think that goes beyond my duty."

He responds with a chuckle of his own. "Well all right. I'll leave you to it."

After separating the laundry apart in colours, I set the black clothes on a cycle and head out into the garden. I find Gracie in her usual spot by the pool, lazing in the sun. 

"Hey there." I coo as she gets up and trots over dropping the ball to my feet. I bend down and pick up the ball tossing it across the grass and turn back to the large kitchen windows, using the cleaner, I spray them down and wipe them over before checking the hummingbird feeder. 

A smile tugs at my lips at the thought of Zak buying the feeder for such a small and delicate little bird. Instinctively, I reach to the side of my ribcage and touch the tattoo I have of the bird there.
I'm coming back into the Utility room when I bump into a shirtless Zak who is sifting through the washing pile. 

"Oh, I'm sorry." He says grabbing a top from the pile to cover himself.

"Don't sweat it. Have you left something in your pocket? I've just put a wash on.." I say following his glance to the machine. 

"Ah shit.."

"Oh god, you have. Was it important, valuable?"

"No. Well, it was kind of important. I always wear it. It was a rosary." He admits.

"Oh!" I click my fingers and slide past him, bracing my hands against his back to stop him from stepping back and squashing me. I ignore the warmth under my fingertips and smell of his skin in my nose and the instant stiffening of his body, as I slide past and grab the decorative dish that I have been using as a bits and bobs catcher. 

I turn and pass him the bowl "Is it in there?"

He looks at the bowl before looking at me "What is all this?"

"The contents of your pockets. Hey turns out you're not the neatest of people. You always forget to empty them." I answer looking between him and the bowl full of change, dollar bills, pens, earphones, scraps of paper and...

"One rosary." I grin fishing it out of the bowl with my finger.

"You do this every time?" He asks.

"Yep. The bits and bobs catcher. I have one at my home, so does my sister, her twins leave so much in their pockets. Grace has this habit of putting scraps of paper in her pocket, makes a real mess when it goes through the wash."

He fiddles with the rosary before smiling "Grace is a real nice name."

"It is." I agree. 

For a few seconds he seems lost in thought, just twirling the crucifix on the rosary. Now unfazed at the idea he is topless and stood in front of me with an undone belt and pair of jeans. I cock my head slightly, looking at the un-styled hair and fair away look in his eyes. 

I know he is thinking of something, someone, but who or what, I don't know..

"Are you okay?" I ask quietly, my hand subconsciously reaching out to touch his arm to get his attention, when he snaps out of it and withdraws away. 

"Uh- Yeah. Yeah I'm fine." He answers quickly before taking the rosary off my finger and passing me the bowl. "Um. Thanks."

Without another world, he leaves the utility room and I'm left holding a bowl with a slightly confused expression on my face.

********

Shall I tell you what is fun?

Going home knowing that I haven't got to fuss around with dinner, that I can have a drink without judgement and with careful planning, I can have a glass of wine, in a hot bath whilst watching my favourite boxset.

What isn't fun, is returning home to find your ex sat on your couch.

I could sense that someone was in my home, the second I walked through the door. I don't know how, I just knew.

"Riley.." Joel says rising from the couch. He fusses with his hair quickly and runs his hands down his shirt. He is nervous...

"Joel." I acknowledge, shutting the door and dropping my bag on the floor before kicking my shoes off. 

His eyes twitch as he watches them land, in the way and a possible trip hazard. But I don't bother moving them, because this is my home now. Not his.

"What brings you here? Again." I ask. 

"I want to talk."

With a roll of my eyes, I head for the kitchen "About what? I'm having a drink. Do you want one?"
Now, I'm not encouraging him to stay, but I am hoping he will say no because the wine is for me and the more I drink the more likely he is to leave. Annoyed.

"No thank you." He answers following me. 

Flicking on the light, I grab a glass from the cupboard before walking over to the water dispenser on the fridge and pushing the lever back. 

"You've filled the water dispenser with wine?" He asks. 

"Yep. Perfect solution. I always have Pinot  on chill." I smile turning to face him. The cut eyebrow is a sudden assault on my senses, a small gasp can be heard from my lips as I look at him. 

"So um.. Mavis is pretty handy with that broom." He chuckles reaching up to touch it.

"Mavis did this?" I ask setting the glass down. 

"Accident." 

"Bathroom. Now."

Without argument he walks to the bathroom and pulls out the first aid kit, however he does protest when I slap his hands away and make him sit on the toilet seat as I can't reach his eye if he is stood up. 

"I can do it.." He mutters. 

"If you could, you would have. You know where it's kept. But you haven't, so now I am doing it."

He sighs as I pull out an antiseptic wipe and put it straight on his eyebrow. "Thanks for the warning."

"Stop being a baby." I retort, dabbing it clean. "Now, what happened and not being rude, but why are you here?"

"She thought I was breaking in. She hit me with the broom." He answers. "As for why I am here..."

He takes my wrist and pulls it away to look up at me. "Riley, sweetie.. I am so sorry."

Two weeks ago, my heart was in pieces, I walked around wounded for days, wondering what I was to do with myself. Turns out, time and wine is a good healer, I haven't turned into an alcoholic, it's not a vice, but it is a welcome change to my routine.

"You've told me." I reply. 

"It was a stupid. Stupid mistake and it will never happen again. It was a moment of weakness. I should have set her straight the second she made advances, I was wrong but my head didn't engage and we hadn't slept together for a while a-and that's not an excuse!" He exclaims seeing me raise a brow instantly.

Despite Joel claiming it wasn't an excuse, I had no doubt that it was partly to do with his cheating. You see when you're in love, you become comfortable, settled and content. You don't care about a messy bun and pjs, or having a fresh face of make up just to go and get some milk for breakfast. You don't care about keeping up appearances with all your friends because you just want to spend time with each other. Together. 

Things hadn't been right for a while with me and Joel, his small comments and remarks, my ever growing appetite as I stuffed my face to make myself feel better for his shitty attitude. Which in turn led me to feel self conscious and to add insult to injury? When we went out, he constantly looked at other women.

So yeah, my confidence dipped, big deal. He didn't have to sleep with another woman.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him stepping away as his hands touch my hips. 

"What do you mean? I'm here to talk. To sort things out-"

"That's not going to happen. We both know that."

"But why?" He asks rising up off the seat to look down at me. 

Something about that move alone told me all I needed to know...

"Because if we are entirely honest with each other, things haven't been right for a while. You weren't happy. I wasn't. We stopped being a couple and instead of addressing our problems we both stuck our head in the sand. You began looking at other woman and made my worst fear come true.. That I wasn't good enough."

It's the first time I've really admitted that to myself and said it out loud. It's weird how saying it openly makes it much more truer. That admitting the relationship was failing, not just because of him but because of me too, hurts more than I realise.

His eyes widen "Sweetie, no. That isn't true."

"You slept with another woman, in our bed. You brought her here.. In our home. Our home." I answer quietly as emotions begin to bubble.

"And I was wrong and I am sorry for that." He answers.

"Too little too late."

"I love you." 

My eyes water at all the times he has said that in the past and made me feel like the only woman in the world. How I felt special... It sucks that I might not have been the only person he has been saying that too. 

"But I'm not in love with you and you are not in love with me-"

"I am!" He interrupts.

"No, Joel. You're not. Otherwise you wouldn't have been looking at other women to begin with. There is no smoke without fire. Well we both got burnt and I'm not happy to stick my hand back in that fire."

"We can work this out, right?" He asks as I leave the bathroom. 

"I don't think we can.. I'm sorry Joel but I'd like you to leave."

A traitorous tear escapes and rolls down my cheek. I quickly swipe it away before he can see and use it to his advantage. 

"Riley, please.."

"Just go Joel."

"But-"

"Please." I beg. 

He stands there, undecided on what to do before he finally gives in. "Fine. But I'm going to keep coming back. I won't give up on us. I won't. I fucked things up between us, I get that and I will always pay for that. But we were good together and I am not giving up without a fight."
With that parting speech, Joel leaves and shutting the door after him. My body sags in exhaustion and I'm about to step away from the front door when I remember something. 

He has a key..

"Shit." I hiss. 

I open the front door and fly down the stairs, hoping to catch him up, but when I reach the security doors downstairs, and step out onto the night, I am met with silence. 

Looking up and down the sidewalk, I'm about to wonder how he managed to disappear so quickly when a car engine starts up and a Rolls Royce pulls away. The windows are tinted and the darkness of night makes it impossible to see who is driving. But I do catch the plate number.

Frowning, I watch it disappear down the street before I go back inside. There is no way that Joel was driving, he wouldn't drive a flash car, he couldn't afford a flash car like that!

There's a niggling suspicion in my mind as I climb into bed that night, that Zak was outside..
But that would be impossible, because he doesn't know where I live. I didn't tell him so there is no possible explanation. 

Stop being paranoid...

But it looked like his car, the one that man was cleaning on his drive.

After 3 hours of staring at the ceiling, I shoot Avery a message. Her instant reply tells me that the twins are having a super bad night and that she is Team No Sleep.

I guiltily ask her to find out what cars he owns and if possible, what plates they are on.

Leaving it in her capable hands, I snuggle down into bed, determined to catch some sleep, when my phone pings of all cars registered under Zak's name and the plates.

All traces of sleep evaporate when I match the plate and car to the one registered in his name...