Patrick clears his throat.
Jessica’s smirk disappears from her face. Her cheeks flush red. She’s a ringleader when it comes to these girls and while I shouldn’t encourage this, I’m glad Patrick’s here.
Jessica just stares at him. Where was this when we were younger? He wasn’t witness to any of the bullying I received, but it took him a long time to pull his head out of his arse. And even then …
Sophie covers the distance between them and wraps herarms around his waist. He gives her a tight hug and kisses the top of her head. “Eat that pizza and don’t feel guilty about it,” he murmurs.
She giggles, and it makes me smile.
“I hope there’s enough pizza for me,” Patrick says.
I bite down a grin. He’s kept fit—it’s obvious. The girls have been obvious in their admiration, and maybe him joining them will encourage them not to worry about a one-off meal for a party.
And even though he said he needed rescuing earlier, he throws himself back into my—our—daughter’s party for her.
I’m so confused.
Losing Mark is still so fresh, but Patrick’s here and he’s real and he seems to want to spend time with us.
Time. I need more time.
As the afternoonstretches into evening, I close my eyes as familiar pain hits behind them.
“Are you okay?” Patrick asks.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’ve got a headache coming on. I get them from time to time.”
“Have you seen a doctor about them?”
Biting my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing, I nod. “I was in an accident years ago. They’re a lasting reminder of that.”
His brows knit. “An accident?”
“That conversation we’ve been meaning to have …” The pain hits again, and I rub my forehead.
“Hey, let’s get you some pain relief, huh? Do you have anything special you take for it?”
I shake my head. “I’ve got some ibuprofen. Usually that and a sleep helps, but …” I wave my hands in the general direction of the girls.
“They’ll be fine. They’re in their pyjamas and plenty of movies to watch. There’s food and they’re all set up for if they ever go to sleep.”
I force a smile. “I guess.”
“You would have left them in the living room later anyway. They’re having fun without us old folks getting in the way.”
I laugh softly. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m coming with you to make sure you’re okay.”
My eyebrows rise. “Patrick, you can’t?—”
“Let’s get this ibuprofen into you, and I’ll talk to your daughter to make sure she knows where we are, and then we’ll get you to bed.”
I would argue, but another burst of pain hits and I know he’s right.
My bedroom is cool and quiet, and I close my eyes.
These don’t happen often, but the doctor can’t find any medical reason for my headaches and they’re not common.
