“There’s nothing to tell.”
“I think there is.”
The sigh I let out is deep. Enough that Miles knows Story coming back to Valentine Nook is messing with my head more than I ever expected.
“I saw her, we had a quick chat, then Max fell over and I left to bandage him up. That is literally the entirety of what happened.”
“Did you take Max to school today?” he presses.
“Yes—”
“And—”
“It was fine. Same as it is every day.”
The last carrot goes to Soldier, a sturdy Welsh cob who never seems to tire, hence the name. He’s so gentle when he takes it, and I stand there, stroking his muzzle and trying not to think about how I caught Story watching me this morning at drop-off.
But I agreed not to talk to her, therefore I didn’t. She never said anything about not looking at her, however. I tried to concentrate on Max, and only Max, but everycouple of seconds I’d be drawn to where she was standing, only to catch her brown eyes flicking in the opposite direction.
It happened enough that when her back was to me, I used the opportunity to kiss Max goodbye and slip away with a final glance and a wide grin.
Returning to the car, I sat there for a full ten minutes while I tried to make sense of the thoughts turning my brain into a vortex. When I didn’t get very far, I came here hoping that Miles would help me, but now that he’s asking, I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about Story full stop. It only makes everything more confusing than it already is.
Reaching around Chester, his hand claps the back of my neck and squeezes gently. “The offer still stands if you want me to do drop-off.”
“I know.” I nod, but the problem is Iwantto take Max to school because I want to see Story.
I want to see her as much as I don’t.
“She’s still in love with you, Hen. It’s obvious.”
I stay silent. I don’t even know where to begin in response, and Miles knows it. He wasn’t expecting me to reply. He just wanted to remind me. To jolt me into admitting I feel the same.
“Let’s go out for a drink tonight. In fact. . .” Miles stops Chester walking. His brow arches sharply, a sure-fire way to know he’s plotting something. “Let’s go to London, blow off some steam. Give you something else to think about.”
I’m tempted. More tempted than I’ve been in a long time.
Since Max came along and my partying was curbed overnight, I choose my nights out carefully and wisely.If you don’t count our family’s New Year trip to Aspen, it’s been months since I’ve had a night free to do what I want, and a morning when I haven’t inevitably woken to a five-year-old snoring next to me.
Outside of Miles dragging me into the city like he’s trying to now, my sex life is nonexistent. I’ve never had a girlfriend, I’ve never introduced Max to anyone, and that’s how I plan to keep it until he’s old enough to understand. Until I’ve met someone worthy of introducing him to. He’s already had one woman leave him who was supposed to stay forever. I’m not planning on any more.
I’ve never been able to prove Max’s mother is the devil incarnate, but why else would her name—SIENNA—be flashing on my screen right as I’m thinking of her? It was EVIL BITCH for a long time, thanks to Miles, but now that Max is learning to read, I thought it should be something a little more suitable for the woman who birthed him. Even if it’s true. Because as much as I hate her, she gave me Max, and for that, I will always be grateful.
My twin, however, is much less compassionate. The second he sees my phone screen, his mouth drops.
“What the fuck does she want?”
We stare at it in my hand, both of us willing it to stop.
“Why’s she calling? When did you last hear from her?”
I shrug because I can’t actually remember. “A few months ago. She wanted money to invest in that Ayahuasca retreat.”
“It should be studied how she manages to blow through so much cash.” Miles snarls, adding somethingunder his breath that sounds a lot like “Gold digging bitch.”
It’s possible Miles hates her more than I do. Because Miles was with me when I was going through it all, when I was living on autopilot, trying to figure out what to do, how I was going to be a good father. But even before Max was born, it was clear I was trying to make it work with a woman I didn’t like very much.
It’s one thing to spend time together between the hours of 1 a.m. and 4 a.m., when talking isn’t really the priority. It’s another being forced into an inescapable situation.
