I think about it and realise he’s not said the words. “I don’t know. He never actually said. He did tell me he loves me.”
She pulls a face that tells me she’s feeling sympathy for him, and I let out a weak laugh. “You hated him this morning.”
“Not true,” she says. “I just don’t want him breaking your heart again. What kind of sister would I be if I let him waltz back in here without earning it?”
“He just wants to be part of the baby’s life,” I say softly. “And I don’t blame him. We wanted this so badly, and now it’s happening . . . and it’s nothing like we planned.”
She tilts her head. “What doyouwant, Eden?”
The question settles heavy in my heart.
“I want it to go back,” I whisper. “To before Liam. Before the trouble. I wish I’d never seen him that night. I wish he hadn’t seen me.” My voice breaks. “Then maybe he wouldn’t have done what he did.”
She smiles sadly. “None of us can change that. God knows we would if we could.” She pauses. “But you can still have the life you planned.”
“Can I?” I ask. “With no trust? With blame sitting on my tongue every time I look at Kade?” Tears sting my eyes. “I hate him,” I admit. “I hate him so much.” My voice drops to a whisper. “But I love him too.”
“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” she says gently. “If he’s serious, he’ll prove it.”
I wipe my cheeks and smooth my dress. “He added his name to the antenatal classes I signed up for.”
Her eyes widen. “That doesn’t sound like Kade.”
“It isn’t,” I say with a small, broken laugh. “He was adamant he’d be at the birth. That he wants to learn.”
“And?”
“I told him no.” My voice shakes. “I said I’d already made a birthing plan and he’s not in it.” I swallow hard. “I haven’t. I just . . . I feel this overwhelming need to punish him, to hurt him back.” I shake my head. “I’m horrible.”
She laughs softly. “You’re not. You’re just hurting.”
The urge hits me suddenly, sharp and reckless. I stand, grabbing my coat.
“Where are you going?” Martha asks.
“To the B and B,” I say, already pulling it on. “To apologise for being a cow.” I hesitate. “To give him the chance to prove he means it.”
I stop outside the building and grip the steering wheel, forcing myself to breathe. Why does this feel like so much more than agreeing to a stupid pregnancy class?
Inside, the place is dated—threadbare carpet, tired wallpaper—and I almost laugh at the thought of Kade staying here. He’s not lavish, but even he has standards.
The man at the desk looks up and smiles. “I recognise you,” he says thoughtfully.
“Eden,” I reply. “I work in the bookshop with Mrs. Wainwright.”
“Ahh, of course. How’s the old battleaxe? I really should pop down. She hates me.”
I laugh despite myself. “She likes everyone tothinkshe hates them. Secretly, she’s a pussycat.” I clear my throat. “I’m here to see one of your guests. Kade Blackwell.”
He shakes his head without checking the system. “No one here by that name.”
My frown deepens. “He definitely said he was staying here. His bike’s in the car park.”
“Bike,” he repeats. “Right. Yes, thereisa gentleman staying here who rides. Big guy. Beard. Tattoos?”
I smile faintly and nod.
He glances down at the book in front of him. “The room isn’t under his name. My apologies. Ah, here we are. Miss Anika Cole. Does that ring any bells?”
