Page 11
I stop and turn to find tears brimming her eyes. Dropping the bags, I step towards her. “Honey.”
She sniffles, glancing at me. “Sorry. It’s the hormones. I’m fine. It’s fine.”
Before I can stop myself, I pull her into my arms. Honey wraps hers around me immediately, burying her face in my chest. Part of me hates the way she fits perfectly against me, how her body moulds to mine without resistance, even with the bump between us. And yet, that part is drowned out by the part of me that holds her tighter and silently vows to never let go.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, tipping her face to mine. “Sorry I’m such a mess. I promise I’m not always like this. I think the pregnancy is just finally getting to me.”
I swallow hard. “You never have to apologise to me. It’s not necessary.”
A soft flush blooms across her cheeks, but she doesn’t look away as I drop my face to hers. The only reaction she gives me is a soft gasp as I brush my lips against hers.
As badly as I want more, as much as it hurts, I pull away and release her. “Sorry,” I mutter, clearing my throat. “I’ll just—leave you to what you were doing.”
Fucking hell. I force myself to grab the forgotten grocery bags and walk towards the kitchen without looking back, despite how much of an ass I feel.
It’s never going to work out that way, and I have to remind myself of that. No matter how much I wish that were a lie.
6
WINNIE
Iwrap my arms around myself as I watch Max stalk into the kitchen with the groceries. A shudder works its way down my spine, and every terrible, nagging thought I’ve had since finding him comes flooding back.
Maybe I am a burden. Someone he has to physically force himself to be near while he figures out what to do. Is he taking responsibility like a real man? Or giving up his rights like he might really want?
Bile rises in my throat, but I turn on my heel and walk back out into the evening.
It takes everything I have not to use the keys I stole from his pocket to jump in my truck and just…drive. Go somewhere. All the thoughts I had, all the things I imagined, this wasn’t even a blip on my radar.
I drop the keys on the old wicker side table I’d cleaned while he was gone, and retake my seat on the porch chair, kicking my feet up on the stool I’d found wedged beneath it. Hot cocoa and cookies—or something with pumpkin—while watching the kids run along the streets would make this better.
A little Batman dashes across the lawn, chased by a fairy with some of the most intricate wings I’ve ever seen. Someone had tied fairy lights to them so they lit up, and I tuck that idea away for when Parasite is old enough.
You know, if I have a girl. I suppose the idea could work for a boy, too. But I’d need to get creative.
The urge to call someone—my mom or my sister, one of my friends—hits me hard as I watch a group of mom friends walk past carrying thermoses and laughing together. Staying here…I would lose out on that community. Max is…
Max is grumpy, not very good at communicating, and far too logical and bossy for me. He might have a nickname for me, but that doesn’t mean shit. He’s probably already forgotten my name, and uses honey as a way to demean me or something. There’s an age gap that isn’t necessarily problematic, since I’ve got a fully formed frontal lobe, but he’s probably more interested in hook ups than…
I don’t know. Me.
Why else would he screw me in the bathroom of a bar?
I rub my eyes tiredly and pull out my phone as the front door opens. It takes everything in me not to look over at him as he leaves the bungalow. And it takes him no time to confront me.
“You took the keys,” he says, coming to a stop beside me.
I don’t even look at him as I motion at the table. “They are mine, last I checked.”
Max snatches them up with a grumbled curse. “I’ll be back.”
That has me looking up. “What? Why? Where are you going?”
He doesn’t look back as he starts for the truck. “I’ll be back,” he repeats without looking back.
God. Is he using my truck to go out and get laid? Or worse? Damn it.
But before I can even get up, he’s gone, pulling out of the driveway and taking off down the street, leaving me alone—again.