Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Two things I can smell. I close my eyes and inhale. Coffee grounds and the lingering scent of toast. Matt’s breakfast, I guess.
One thing I can taste. Both of those things in his kiss.
I wish.
I open my eyes, give a sigh, and redirect my thoughts once more. Away from Matt this time.
I have money and time. I’m comfortable and stable. What will happen will happen anyway, whether I stress about it or not. I just need to keep my head in the game. Be positive. Keep busy. Make sure my baby isn’t swimming in cortisol.
So it looks like I’m about to book a cookery class.
Unknown Number: Hi Ryan, this is Letty, Matt’s sister. I hope it’s okay that he gave me your number. I’m in the area and wondered if you were home.
Home. Yeah, I guess I am home. My temporary home. I hate the addendum, that intruding thought. But it is what it is. It is what it has to be right now.
Me: Hey Letty. It’s good to hear from you. I am home, actually.
Letty: Fancy some company? A party of two.
Me: Sure! I’d love that.
Letty: Great! See you soon.
And she must have really been in the area, because five minutes later, the doorbell rings.
“Hey!” Letty gives a little wave from the doorstep, her arms laden with shopping bags.
“Mommy has a key,” Clodagh says, appearing from behind her mother. She trots up the steps, and her head quirks as she stares up at me. “But she didn’t want to use it.”
“It didn’t feel right,” Letty says with a shrug as Clo skips into the hallway. “There’s an intercom, you know? In case you get visitors you don’t want to see.”
“All visitors are welcome.” I have nothing else going on. “Shoot,” I say, stepping back from the door. “Where are my manners? Come on in.” Don’t be weird, Ryan!
“Thanks,” she says with a grateful look.
I close the front door as Clodagh begins to skip around the antique hall table.
“We used to live here, you know,” she says. “And Mommy used to buy flowers to put on the table.”
“Ryan is too busy for that, honey.”
As I tear my gaze from the silver urn, her mother shoots me an apologetic look.
“I guess I could buy flowers,” I say. But I won’t, because this isn’t my home and I need to remember that.
“Just don’t expect Matt to notice,” Letty says. “I’m desperate for a cuppa. Shall we put the kettle on?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Still holding her shopping, she bustles her way down to the kitchen area as Clodagh and I follow.
“You don’t mind, do you?” She drops her bags to the counter, her glance pensive as Clodagh throws herself over the sectional, dragging her little backpack with her. She begins to unpack the contents.
“No.” Mind what? The shopping? The tea? Her dropping in? I don’t mind any of it. “I’m really happy to see you.”
Letty looks relieved, her expression relaxing instantly. “It’s just, I know you and Matt aren’t together, but this is still your home, and I don’t want to intrude.”
I laugh a little at that. “This house is huge. An army could march through it, and I probably wouldn’t notice it.”
“Well, that’s true.” She moves toward the kettle before taking it to the sink. “The huge thing, at least.”
A few minutes later, tea is made and we’re sitting on the sectional.
“So,” Letty begins. “How’ve you been?”
“I’m good. All good,” I say, resisting the urge to touch my stomach. Lord, I’m turning into one of those women.
“And Matt? How are you two getting along?”
“Good. Really good.” All the goods. God, I’m such a liar, because sometimes, I am so very far from good. But it’s not as though I can just say: I think your brother’s great, but I’m scared of commitment. Scared of the future. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to have sex with his face.
No, not saying any of that.
“Matt’s a really decent guy. One of the best,” she says. She lifts her tea and takes a sip. “I know he’s my brother and I’m supposed to be in his corner, but if he was a shit bag, I really would tell you. Before you had the babe.” Her eyes dip briefly to my stomach. “The way I look at it, some people don’t deserve to be in their children’s lives.”
Her ex, I guess she means. Matt told me she’s in the middle of a nasty divorce; that’s why she and Clo were living with him until recently.
“Yeah, I get that,” I say, pulling on a thread at the hem of my sweater. I know it, even.
“Do you have friends here? In London?” She tightens her grip on the teacup handle, and a little liquid sloshes over the rim. “Balls,” she mutters, swiping the droplets from her pants. “You don’t mind me being a nosy old baggage, do you?”