Sloan spun round and stared at her. Gloria had no idea.None.
“I did love Maggie,” Sloan said.
“I know you did. That was why it was such a surprise when you sent her packing.”
Sloan picked up the teapot, then put it down again. She pressed her palms to the counter and squeezed her eyes shut, Maggie’s face flashing in her mind—hurt, then gone.
For a moment, she said nothing.
When she spoke, her voice was quiet, “I didn’t send her packing.”
“Well, you must have done something to make her leave like that.”
Sloan’s fingers curled against the edge of the counter. She looked down at them, then at the table, as if there might still be some way to stop herself saying it.
There wasn’t.
“She left because I chose you,” Sloan said. ”She wanted me to find you a home.”
Gloria’s mouth parted.
“And I said no,” Sloan went on, anger breaking through now. “I said I couldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t do that to you. Maggie wanted a different life. She wanted me to find you a nice home, somewhere you could see out your days, and we’d visit when we weren’t working or travelling.”
“You chose me?” Gloria looked genuinely shocked. “I didn’t know—”
“No,” Sloan cut in, frustration rising with every word, “because I chose not to tell you. I chose to protect you from it.” She released the counter and balled her hands into fists by her side, nails digging into her palms. “I threw myself into making sure you had the best of everything that was available. And you’ve thrown it in my face every day since.”
For a moment, Gloria lost her edge. Not smug, not needling—just tired, and suddenly older than before.
“I didn’t know,” she said again, quieter. Her hands were now braced on the table, as if letting go would mean falling apart.
Gloria’s eyes flicked to the teapot, then back. Her chin lifted reflexively. “You should’ve told me.”
Sloan let out a humourless laugh. “And you would’ve done what? Thanked me?”
Gloria’s mouth tightened. She looked away, then back again. “I would’ve…known,” she said, the words awkward in her mouth. “I would’ve tried.”
Sloan stared at her, not trusting it.
Gloria swallowed. “I didn’t realise it was that. I thought you just—” She waved a hand, seeming impatient with herself. “You never bloody say anything.”
“Because you taught me to get on with it,” Sloan said. “To be independent. Not need anyone.”
Less angry now, Sloan pulled a chair out and sat down. She poured two mugs of tea.
“I didn’t have the energy,” she went on. “I needed to be there for you. To make arrangements. To listen to doctors and carers. To deal with Janet and Lionel, and the excuses for why they couldn’t help.”
She set the teapot down. Her hands hovered, then gripped the edge of the table again.
“I didn’t have time to fall apart,” she said, the words catching for a moment. “I just kept going… because someone had to.”
***
Matty woke with her thighs clenched and a soft moan that caught in the pillow. The urge to slide a hand down her body and touch was almost impossible to ignore.
She’d climbed into bed hours earlier and overheated in the night, shedding the vest top she’d slept in without even properly waking. Her nipples dragged against the sheet and instantly tightened. She pinched one gently—
Did “no touching” include her nipples?
