The irony tasted bitter.
Kieran dragged a hand through his hair. ‘So I wasn’t enough as I was,’ he muttered. ‘But I was useful as a launchpad.’
Prom flicked an ear, unimpressed.
Kieran moved to the window and looked out at Cranley’s single, winding street. Stone cottages. Hanging baskets. The shop, where Janette would undoubtedly clock his movements and provide commentary.
It was … small.
Comfortably, undeniably small.
There was nothing here that matched the scale of what he’d been building in his head – the investors, the pitch decks, thesleek offices he’d imagined. Cranley didn’t care about growth curves or disruption. It cared about bins going out on the right day and whether you waved back at a smiling local.
That scared him more than he liked to admit.
Because small meant stillness. And stillness meant feeling things.
Kieran exhaled slowly.
Maybe this wasn’t a retreat from city life. Maybe it was a pause. A recalibration. He hadn’t abandoned his ambitions. They were still ticking away quietly in the background, waiting.
He just needed space to remember which parts of them were actually his.
Prom leapt onto the windowsill and headbutted his arm.
‘All right,’ Kieran said softly. ‘You can stay.’
The cat purred like he’d won something.
Kieran wasn’t so sure.
Chapter Three
‘We’re so thrilled you’re here!’ Angela squashed Beth into a hug. Beth accepted it, reluctantly. She was here to do a job, not become besties with the people who paid her wages.
‘Good to see you again.’ Angela’s partner, Ed, extended a hand instead. Beth noted they both had tattoos. Ed had several, Angela one on her shoulder that saidBe Brave. Beth wasn’t a tattoo fan. Although she’d briefly, madly, imagined one that saidFailed Mother.
‘The removal men have already put your stuff in your quarters, though not in any particular order,’ said Angela, with a wry smile. ‘But Ed’s here to help you arrange things how you like.’
Ed smiled. ‘We already sorted the bedroom and lounge, as well as the kitchen area. But it’s a bit of a squeeze, sorry.’
‘Please don’t worry,’ said Beth. ‘I should have measured before bringing half my life with me.’
‘There’s a big storage area in the basement which we don’t use,’ said Ed. ‘Anything you don’t need can go in there.’
Angela and Ed insisted Beth eat before unpacking.
‘Ray and Liz left a well-stocked freezer. But the locals will be excited to sample what you conjure up.’ Angela clapped her hands together in glee.
‘I hope I don’t disappoint them,’ Beth said. Her hands twisted in her lap. Shewasa good cook, she knew that, but lately her confidence had shrunk to the size of a walnut.
‘Don’t be daft. The sample menus you showed us at the interview were amazing.’ Ed looked at Angela, who nodded in agreement. ‘Right, I’ve defrosted some of Ray and Liz’s epic lasagne with a side of garlic bread, if that’s OK with you.’
‘Perfect,’ Beth said, though her appetite had gone the way of her sleep. Still, she’d need fuel to tackle the mountain of boxes upstairs.
They’d just finished eating when a young woman wheeled in a double buggy.
Beth froze. Her stomach lurched, the lasagne turning to lead.Don’t react.She forced herself to breathe, to smile. Seeing babies shouldn’t hurt anymore. But it did.
