“When’s the next trip?”
“They run two a year. The next one is in two months, but I suspect it’ll be fully booked.”
“You won’t know unless you look. They might have had a cancellation.”
“True. You’ve listened to my rant. Now it’s your turn.”
“To rant?”
She laughs. “No. To tell me what’s going on in your life. Anything I should know?”
“No. Just the same old, same old.”
“You must have some news.”
I had amazing sex with a guy I shouldn’t have touched with a bargepole. If I’d known who Archer was, I wouldn’t have gone near him. But I didn’t know, and I did go near him, and now I can’t get him and his filthy bedroom mouth out of my head.
“Jacob?”
“No news.”
“Then what were you thinking about?” She tames my unruly hair by tucking a few strands behind my ears.
“You’ve probably got enough rose petals to make perfume.”
“Eau de Revenge?”
I laugh. “Eau de Fresh Starts would be better.”
She sighs. “You’re probably right. I do need to start looking forward, don’t I?”
“Yes.”
“It’s hard.” Her voice cracks.
“I know. I’m sorry he hurt you.”
“Me too, love. Me too. Let me grab my laptop. You can help me book that trip to India.” She wanders into the house, leaving the shears abandoned on the lawn amidst a sea of red rose petals.
God, I’m going to be sick. I tighten and straighten my tie. I look the part, but my insides are churning, and my head is spinning. I tried to get out of going to the wedding reception, but Dad laid the guilt on thick. Despite me saying no for what feels like the hundredth time a few hours ago, he’s still convinced I’ll do a speech.
I can’t go.
I have to go.
But fuck, things are going to get messy the moment Archer realises who I am.
Unless he’s not there. It’s Saturday night. We’ve only had a few days’ notice. He works at a bar. I clasp my hands and pray to any god who’ll listen that his boss refused to give him the night off.
For his mother’s wedding reception.
Damn. Of course his boss will have given him the time off.
I can pretend I got stuck in traffic. For four hours. Dad will believe that.
I’d be putting off the inevitable. I can’t avoid Archer forever. Sooner or later—preferably much, much later—we’ll run into each other at a family event. I should have drowned my sorrows.A hangover would have been preferable to the mess I’ve found myself in.
It’s partially a mess of my own making. I shouldn’t have run out on Archer but should have stayed and explained why I was freaking out. I’m a coward, but I couldn’t look him in the eye and tell him his mum married my dad.
