Peter clears his throat. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I reply. I hate how comfortable he looks in my life, like he’s here to stay.
I gesture to the table. “Sit. Food’s almost ready.”
Eden hesitates just a beat, but Peter pulls the chair out for her so she sits. That tiny gesture shouldn’t feel like a punch to the gut, but it does.
I plate up and set everything down like this is normal. They start eating and making polite conversation amongst themselves.
Then more footsteps thud down the stairs and Martha appears, her hair messy and her hoodie pulled on. She stops short when she clocks the table.
Her lips twitch before she schools her expression. “Well,” she says lightly, “this is cosy.”
Eden shoots her a warning look.
Martha sits, her eyes flicking between us. “Weird, but cosy.”
I lean back slightly, watching how Eden picks at the toast. “You used to love a cooked breakfast,” I say. “I can make something else if you’d prefer.”
Martha rolls her eyes, huffing loudly. “So accommodating.”
“This is fine,” Eden mutters, now pushing the eggs around her plate.
I try again, quieter this time. “It’s important you eat something, Edes. For the baby.”
She nods without looking at me. “I will.”
Peter reaches for her hand. “He’s right.”
I look away before I lose my mind.
Martha watches the exchange, unimpressed. “Well,” she says, standing abruptly, “I’ve got things to do. Shocking, I know.”
She pauses, leaning closer to me. “Nice try,” she mutters. “But you don’t get points for eggs.” Then she’s gone.
Silence settles back over the table.
Eden finally looks up at me. There’s no anger in her eyes this time, just distance.
“What time do you leave?”
“Actually, I spoke with D last night. He’s coping fine, so I thought I’d stay a few days.” Her eyes snap to mine. I ignore her horrified expression and smile. “Obviously not here. I can stay at the B and B. I think Martha would prefer that.”
Peter stands, grabbing both our attention. “I’ll let you guys talk. I’ve got animals to feed.” He presses a light kiss to Eden’s head and leaves.
She waits for the sound of the door closing before turning back to me. “Why?”
“We still have things to discuss.”
“Like what?” I drag my eyes to her stomach, and she sighs. “The baby isn’t due for months. We can’t make plans until then.”
I shrug. “Maybe I just wanna do pregnancy stuff with you.”
Her eyes narrow this time. “I’ll pass, but thanks.” And she shoves her plate away with the food hardly touched.
“I wish you’d just yell or scream or something,” I mutter, standing and taking the plates away.
“All that’d do is make you feel better.”
