“Never.” I grin, blowing him a kiss before the door closes.
Chapter ten
Hailee
“Honey,I’mhome!”Ising out, dragging my luggage behind me as I toe the front door shut. Our quaint townhouse in Sydney’s inner city has been our home for the past decade. Built in the early 1900s, it’s a unique blend of timeless elegance and modern chic, thanks to the extensive renovations carried out by the owners. Despite its updated features, it still has character and a certain lived-in, rustic charm.I’m going to miss this place.
I’ve decided to hold onto the lease while we live in Dameon’s building. Sydney’s rental market is ridiculously expensive, but with a monthly income of a million dollars, I can certainly afford to keep it empty for twelve months. This house holds so many memories—it was a soft place to land when we first arrived in Australia and I’m not quite ready to give it up.
“Beth?” I shout, dropping my handbag and suitcase in the living room.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. You woke me up.” Beth shuffles in, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, yawning. Her black leggings and slouchy T-shirt accentuate her petite frame, but her pale complexion and the dark circles under her eyes make my heart hurt. She’s looked better.
“Sorry.” I cringe. “Come here, my Betty Boo.” I pull her in for a big hug and plant a kiss on the top of her head. “I missed you.”
“Relax. It’s been six days,” she mumbles into my chest. “And I hate when you call me that.”
“Okay, poo brain. But I can’t help that I miss your face.”
She wraps her arms around me and, noticing how she subtly breathes me in, I squeeze her tighter.
“I missed you too,” she sighs, pulling out of my embrace and eyeing my dress. “That’s cute, where did you get it from? And more importantly, can I borrow it?”
“Boy, do I have news for you!” I widen my eyes dramatically. “And yes, you can wear it. But let me shower and unpack first, and then I’ll fill you in over margaritas and tacos.” Even though I just had breakfast, it’s already late afternoon in Sydney, and I assume Beth hasn’t organized dinner for herself yet.
“Good, I’m starving,” she says through another yawn.
I head upstairs to my bedroom and unpack, throwing everything into the drawers haphazardly. We’re going to be packing over the next couple of days, so there’s no point in putting things away properly. I take the speediest shower on record and dress in something comfy: leggings, and a tank top.
A quick check of the cupboards confirms my suspicion: no ingredients to make tacos in sight. But a short walk to the supermarket around the corner solves that problem. I’ll miss this neighborhood. Living near all these conveniences—supermarket, post office, doctor, dentist, pharmacy, cafés—has been wonderful. Despite owning a car, I hardly use it, preferring to walk, especially when everything is just a stone’s throw away.
After putting away the groceries, I begin slicing the limes to make margaritas. Drinking while cooking is a must in my book. I whip up a virgin one for Beth and a double-strength for myself—because, why the hell not? We’re celebrating.
“Mmm, can I try yours?” Beth strolls into the kitchen as I finish pouring the mixtures into margarita glasses, garnishing them with a lime slice on the salted rim.
“Sorry, kiddo, you know the deal. No alcohol until you’re eighteen.”
“Ugh, fine,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes and settling on a stool at the kitchen bench.
“Cheers.” I clink my glass with hers and take a sip, licking the salt off my lips.Not bad.
“Guess what?”
“What?” She looks at me expectantly and I can tell she’s a little afraid to hear the answer.
“You’re getting a new heart.”
“Fuck off, no way!” Beth’s smile is radiant, warming my heart in the best possible way.
“Uh-huh.”
“I can’t believe Mom came through,” she says, shaking her head.
“Well, not exactly,” I hedge. Beth deserves the truth, but I’ll do everything I can to shield her from the pain of knowing that her mother doesn’t give a shit about her.
“What do you mean?”
“I found another way.” I grab my phone from the counter and open the email from the transplant board verifying Beth’s new status as urgent. Just as Dameon promised, she’s now a priority for surgery as soon as a suitable match is found. Passing my phone to Beth, I turn my attention to chopping tomatoes, lettuce, and onions for the tacos, keeping a close eye on her reaction as she reads the email. She must read it over a dozen times, because it’s not that long.
