Got to hand it to the woman—she doesn’t even turn pale at the thought. Just inclines her head like it’s a reminder to keep her phone on hands-free mode when driving.
When I run to the end of my speech, I ask, “Any questions?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because Sierra misses you.”
She accepts the statement at face value. “You’re not…” She squirms in her seat while trying to word her question. “You’re not concerned about Bradley?”
“Bring him along to a meeting and I will be, but otherwise, no. I figure the fostering was always your business, and he was just along for the ride.”
Another nod.
Then it’s my turn to ask a question. “Why didn’t you ever adopt Sierra? My lawyer held off on submitting applications because he thought it might push you into it out of… fear”—the word I really want to use is spite—“but he couldn’t see any reason preventing you.”
Carla chews on her bottom lip, staring at the lawn outside the window. “You’re right about Bradley. When we couldn’t have kids, he knew I wanted to keep trying other avenues, but he wasn’t bothered. Once the state approved us for fostering, that was his only demand. That we could send them back if necessary. So, no adopting.”
“Guess that’s one point in his favour for self-awareness.”
This time, she does turn pale.
I’ll never tell her how those images came to be on her husband’s computer, so whatever the court decides will end up being her truth. They’re already separated, waiting to be divorced, and I can’t imagine any circumstance that would lead to them reuniting.
I hope Bradley enjoys the last few weeks of his freedom. Once the case is tried, he’ll head directly to jail. Do not pass Go.
That’s what you get for teasing me about photos, you fucking creep.
We leave soon after. I’m satisfied she’ll follow the rules and there’s too much riding on it for her to question anything I’ve set in place. Just like before, one of us will jump through any hoops to maintain contact with Sierra.
Thank goodness, it’s no longer me.
Being midmorning, the drive from Rolleston back to home takes less than half an hour. It’s nice to have a stretch of time just to think. There have been so many ups and downs in the past nine months, I haven’t had time to catch my breath.
I dropped out of school in the end; looking after Sierra was the reason I gave to the judge, but it was equally to spend more time at work. After my first commission, Stefan introduced me to more and more people, both inside and outside the syndicate. Mixing and matching them to projects has become my role; a weirdly ambiguous position that brings in mid five figures every month.
Often, I feel like I’m being groomed for… well, I don’t know what.Something.Whenever the big reveal finally comes, I’m fairly certain I’ll say yes.
When I arrive home, Leonard is goofing around in the kitchen, ostensibly teaching my sister how to bake that staple of home cooking—a banana loaf. In reality, it seems to be a way to get covered in flour and eat a bagful of chocolate buttons.
Even Zeta laughs as they turn her kitchen into a complete mess. I leave them to it and search for Zach.
He’s lying on our bed, phone face down on his chest, staring at the ceiling with a large frown.
“Those thoughts look painful,” I tease, crawling into place beside him. “What are you scowling at?”
“Do you want to get married?”
My mouth drops open in astonishment and he rubs a hand over his fringe, glowering at me as though I’ve done something wrong.
“Ignore that,” he immediately says while I’m still trying to understand if he said what I thought he said. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“You can’t do that. What if my answer is yes?”
“I can do whatever I like.” He chews his bottom lip, staring at me with his eyes shooting sparks in a thousand different shades of blue. “It wasn’t meant to come out that way. I’m going to do it properly. Just forget I said anything.”
I lay flat on my back, laughing in confusion.
“Don’t laugh at me,” he growls, rolling on top of me.
