It didn’t say much about me that I didn’t really think about Sorcha until I reached the city and was closing in on her flat. Sorcha’s one-bedroom apartment was on a touristy, Victorian street close to the city center. A lot of the flats and homes around here were holiday rentals. Hers was in a Victorian end of terrace house that had been converted into two flats.
Sorcha knew I was coming because I’d texted her last night to ask if I could drop by. She’d replied in a flirty way that suggested she thought I was visiting for sex. I felt bad about breaking things off with her, but I’d been planning to beforehand, so the marriage was the perfect excuse. I didn’t feel awkward about it because we’d both known the score from the moment we’d started sleeping together.
I parked across her driveway because I wasn’t intending to stay long. As I neared the door, it opened, and she stood in the tiny entrance at the bottom of the stairs that led up to her place. Brechin came bounding past her legs to jump on me.
Grinning, I rubbed the labradoodle’s ears. “Hiya, boy. Nice to see you too.”
Glancing up from him as he slobbered all over my hands, I kept my expression blank as I met Sorcha’s pretty blue eyes. “We need to talk.”
Her expression fell and she stood back, opening the door wider for me. “It’s like that, is it? Well, I suppose you better come in.”
Ten
Jared
Sorcha’s flat was small but comfortable. If I was being honest, it reminded me a bit of my mum’s place growing up. Sorcha’s taste in furniture and all that shit was old-fashioned, but she was a modern woman otherwise.
She’d married and divorced a fellow high school teacher in her twenties. Reading between the lines, it had been a harrowing time for her and she was dead set against marriage or any sort of relationship. Thirty-seven, smart, sexy, independent, and completely uninterested in commitment, Sorcha had been the perfect kind of temporary for me.
Lately, I’d felt like she was angling for more, which didn’t make sense.
But her attitude now relieved me. She sensed what was coming and appeared to be okay.
I’d accepted her offer of a coffee because it was polite and I needed the caffeine. As I took the mug from her, her gaze caught on the ring on my finger. Her eyes widened. “What is going on?”
I took a gulp of the dark brown liquid and then looked her straight in the eyes. “I wish I’d had a chance to talk to you first, to end things right, so for that I apologize.”
“You’re married?” Sorcha gaped. “Married? You? Jared McCulloch?”
“I am.”
She threw her hands up. “To whom? When? What?”
“You and I never agreed to be monogamous.”
Scowling, she huffed, “I know that! Do you think you’re the only man I’ve slept with in the last six months?”
I had actually, but was relieved to hear I wasn’t. “Of course not.”
“But marriage … you said … you made it clear that a relationship wasn’t even on the table, never mind marriage.”
I saw it then. What I really hadn’t wanted to see. A flicker of hurt. “I didn’t think that was what you wanted either.”
“I … I …”
Not wanting her to admit to feeling more for me than just attraction because I didn’t want to cause her pain, I hurried on, “Allegra and I have known each other for five years. She’s American, so she just visited when she could.” Swallowing past the discomfort of lying, I continued, “I’ve always had feelings for her but didn’t think she’d want to stay here. It turns out she feels the same way and … we got married yesterday.”
Silence settled between us as Sorcha processed this. Leaning her curvy arse against the kitchen counter, she crossed her arms over her ample chest. “She must be something.”
“She is,” I answered truthfully.
“Ouch.” Sorcha winced.
“You’re something too. You and I are just not … that.”
She nodded, staring at the floor. “Can … Do you have a picture of her?”
Panic flitted through me. I had no pictures of Allegra. No selfies. Surely a couple who were married would have a shit ton of pictures of each other. It was something I’d need to discusswith Allegra when I returned home. “Why do you want to see a photo of her?”
