Juliet: Thanks, Everett.
I pause before adding:
Juliet: Foreverything.
He doesn’t reply, and for a second, I wonder if I’ve made things more awkward between us. Everett was fourteen when I started dating his father. He was a surly teenager, either locked in his bedroom playing video games or outside kicking the soccer ball with his mates. He wasn’t interested in building a relationship with the twenty-nine-year-old woman his dad had moved into their family home, and I was too lost in my grief to try.
I met Edward Mathers at the lowest point in my life. That’s not an exaggeration; it’s a truth that still tightens my chest.
My parents died in a home invasion gone wrong. One minute they were there, only a phone call away, and the next they were gone, reduced to nothing but police reports and murmured condolences. As an only child with no family in the country, I was completely lost. My aunt wanted me to return to France. She meant well, but Australia is the only home I know. We moved here when I was three. My parents are buried here. Leaving felt like losing them all over again.
I’d been working in accounts at the Mathers Estate vineyard for eight months when they died, and that became my reason for getting out of bed in the mornings. It was repetitive—numbers, invoices, spreadsheets—and the predictability helped me get through each day. It didn’t ease the grief, though, and most days I spent my breaks crying in the staff bathroom.
Edward found me one day when I hadn’t been able to hold back the tears.
I was terrified of losing my job. He was a no-nonsense boss who expected perfection. People straightened when he walked into a room.
To my surprise, he sat me down, poured me a cup of chamomile tea, and asked me how I was doing. It wasn’t the arbitrary question everyone asked after my parents’ deaths. He listened, giving me a safe place to feel vulnerable.
He began popping in weekly, then daily to check on me. Eventually, he invited me to dinner, and I accepted. Edward was a steady presence in my lonely world, and I slowly fell for him. I didn’t hesitate when he asked me to move in with him and his son six months later.
The next year was a whirlwind of being swept off my feet by a charming older man. I never asked questions about Everett’s mother, and Edward didn’t offer any details. That should have been my first red flag.
The second should have been the strained relationship between him and Everett. But by the time I noticed how quiet Everett was, and how he would flinch when his father entered a room, I was already three months pregnant and sporting a massive three-carat diamond ring on my finger.
I glance down at that finger, free from the weight of that monstrous thing. The sale of it and my wedding ring, along with all the other jewellery he’d showered me with to bury his guilt, was enough to pay for this small house outright—coupled with the insurance money from my parents’ deaths and a little extra help from my stepson. I tried to refuse Everett’s money, but he said he was doing it for Tinsley, so I relented. Having no mortgage allows me to comfortably work from home doing bookkeeping for a few small businesses in Beckford so I can be around for her.After everything we’ve been through, I don’t trust many people with my daughter.
Tinsley started preschool last month, and I still struggle with leaving her in someone else’s care a couple of days a week, even knowing she loves it. Deep down, I know I can’t let my anxiety hold her back. Besides, the preschool is aware of our custody agreement and the ADVO out against my ex-husband. He’s only allowed supervised visits with Tinsley once a fortnight. Otherwise, he’s not to come within one hundred metres of either of us, and he can only contact me if it’s in relation to our daughter.
“Mama,” Tinsley calls, and I lift my eyes, finding her with a smile. “Watch this.”
My heart leaps into my throat as she swings her body in a front flip over a bar, but I laugh and cheer her on anyway. My little princess is fearless.
If only her mama could channel some of that.
Chapter 3
Blake
Disney music floats from the living room when I return home to the townhouse I share with Everett after an extra strength and conditioning session at the gym.
I scrub a tired hand over my face before poking my head around the corner of the open-plan living area to grin at Everett’s little sister. She’s sitting in the middle of our couch with her bunny fixed in her little hand, staring mesmerised at the screen. Her brother is in the kitchen, preparing dinner.
He catches sight of me and nods in greeting.
“Dinner will be ready in about fifteen.”
“Sweet. Thanks.” I glance back at his sister. “Hey there, Sprout. What are you watching?”
Her green eyes flick to me before snapping straight back to the movie. “The Little Mermaid.”
Tinsley has been coming over once or twice a week since Everett and I moved in. He hasn’t said much about his stepmum, just that she separated from his dad when Tinsley was three. I’ve never met her, but her daughter iscute as a button. Everett dotes on her, and I don’t mind having her around now and then, although she’s yet to warm up to me.
I leave her to the movie and head upstairs to my ensuite bathroom to shower.
The moment I’m alone in my room, my mind snaps back to the earth-shattering kiss that has been playing on repeat since last Friday night.
I’ve tried to stay busy, to forget, but nothing works. This woman has thrown my life off-kilter. I ran a brutal ten-kilometre loop up Eagle Peak on Saturday morning, which was painful with how hard I was. Hell, I even let Everett drag me to the Beckford U bar, Carter’s, on Saturday night, hoping a meaningless hook-up might do the trick. It didn’t. Not a single girl held my attention, despite several Banshees vying for it, and I went home alone and fucked my fist to the memory of crystal green eyes and puffy lips.
