“Chelsea, please don’t do this to yourself. We’re over.”
“Please. I need to talk to you. It’s important.”
Now isn’t the time to ram this down her throat. Today has been heavy, and I’m done in, but I also don’t want her waiting for me when I’m certain I won’t change my mind. “Look, there’s no point in you hanging around at my place. You might as well go back to yours.”
“But why? You said I could stay here as long as I wanted.”
“That was before you smashed the place up.” Even so, I thought she might stay a day or two, not this long.
“I had every reason to. It’s obvious you’re in love with someone else.”
Now she’s putting words into my mouth. Jesus. “I don’t know where you got that idea, but you’re wrong. There’s no one else.”
As soon as I say it, I regret every word. Maybe if she thought I’d moved on, she would hate me a little and get on with her life.
“Are you sure?” she says with sarcasm in her tone. “Because I have something to tell you that could change the way you feel about me.”
Now what the hell does that mean?
ANGIE
It’s been three days since the funeral. Ash and Calla have been amazing, but I can’t go on relying on them. There’s a lotto sort out at home, what with Scott’s business, and eventually, I need to find a new house. Our rental is coming to an end after we gave our notice to the landlord some time ago. I have no choice but to look for somewhere new before the baby is born. It was always our dream to buy something nearer the beach, and I’m going to stick with that. Scott loved the water.
I’m sitting in Calla’s home office going through paperwork, but my mind keeps drifting off and thinking of other things. It’s an odd feeling, knowing you’re on your own with a baby on the way. Sometimes it’s a positive frame of mind that gets me through the day, such as making lists of things I have to do before the baby arrives. At other times, I could crumble. In fact, I often do, but I hide it away from the family. They need to see me making progress, not stepping backwards.
I hear footsteps behind me, and when I turn around, Calla is standing by the door. “Can I come in?”
“Don’t be daft. Of course.”
“I thought you might need a coffee.” She places a steaming hot cup on the desk beside me.
“Thank you. I could do with a pick-me-up.”
“How are you getting on?” she asks.
“I don’t know, Cal. There’s so much to take on board. Chris has the business under control, but I can’t rely on him forever. Soon, I’ll have to decide if I should continue or sell my shares. Can I handle running a kitchen business I know nothing about? And then, of course, I need to find a new house.”
“Hey, calm down.” She places her hand over mine. “You have plenty of time to think about the business and, as for the house, we’ve already decided you’re staying with us until you find the right one. Have you got a moving date yet?”
“Not yet.” I bite my lip as my stomach rolls. The thought of packing up our home gives me nightmares.
“Well, there’s no rush. As you said, Chris has the business under control, so why don’t you wait until after the baby is born?” Her hand squeezes mine for reassurance.
“I don’t want to wait that long. I’d like to get everything organised before then.” I’m putting my best brave face on here. I have to get settled somewhere else for Ash and Calla’s sake too. They need their own space and me being here constantly isn’t fair on them.
“Oh, and don’t forget, we have the reading of Scott’s will tomorrow.” My throat dries as the words leave my mouth. It’s another gut-wrenching consequence to face.
“I haven’t. Don’t worry,” Calla says, holding out her arms with sadness in her eyes. I get out of my seat to give her a hug.
A knock pulls us apart. “Hey, ladies. Okay to come in?” Ash asks, poking his head around the door with a stupid grin.
“What is wrong with you two?” I look between Calla and then Ash as he enters the room with a smile. “This is your bloody house.”
“You were probably talking about stuff I don’t need to know,” he says, screwing up his face.
“What if we were gossiping? You love listening to that.” Calla smiles, kissing his cheek.
“Oh, yeah. I lurrve the gossip.” He winks at his wife, then smirks my way. “How are you doing today, Angie? Any better?” His eyebrows raise in hope. It must be exhausting to support someone constantly when you’re grieving yourself.
