Finally, she broke the silence. “I guess I should be going now,” she mumbled. But she didn’t leave.
Simon tried to hide his annoyance. He didn’t have anything left to say to her. While their divorce wasn’t particularly acrimonious, he wasn’t ready to be friends with her either. He was respectful, as she was his son’s mother, but beyond that he wanted little to do with her after she’d admitted to seeking validation from other men outside their marriage. She’d begged for his forgiveness after her admission several months ago. What was there to forgive? Their marriage was over and done.
“I ran into Jules Carmichael during my run this evening,” he said offhandedly, not knowing what else to say to the woman he once loved.
Her brown eyes widened; a fire lit inside of them. “What is she doing here?” She sounded like she was on the verge of panicking.
It surprised him to see her react in such a way. “I thought you used to be best mates.”
She straightened out her silk blouse and plastered on a fake smile. “We were. I just didn’t know she still lived here.”
“I think she’s just visiting her parents,” Simon offered.
“Oh,” she said, relieved. “I bet she let herself go,” she laughed.
Simon tilted his head, not entirely surprised by his ex’s comments. Putting others down was a way of life for her. He knew she did it to make herself feel better, yet he tired of it. “Actually, she’s quite lovely. She’s hardly changed at all since our days in New York.” Now that he thought about it, she was more lovely than he remembered her being. In fact, she was beautiful. Had he missed that all those years ago?
Penelope gripped the counter nearest her. “Really? Oh,” her voice pitched. “Well, what did she say?”
“Not much.” She seemed to be eager to get away from him. A thought that bothered him. It had disappointed him when she’d declined his invitation to meet for coffee. He truly wanted the opportunity to catch up with her. But the memories and the vague recollections of their time together in New York that assaulted his mind made her rejection understandable. It was as if she’d vanished from his life, and he hadn’t even noticed. He was realizing how awful that was of him. Then he didn’t have the decency to remember her name today. What a prat he was.
“Hmm. I wonder what she’s been up to. I don’t see her in any of the posts from my old high school friends. Not like I’m looking,” she nervously tittered.
Penelope wasn’t fooling him. She was obviously very curious about her old friend. And he knew she was going to be disappointed if she ran into the beautiful creature with indigo eyes.
“Is she married?” she asked hopefully.
Simon shrugged, not sure. But for some reason he hoped not.
“Daddy, I’m tired,” Jack yawned.
“I should go.” Penelope pushed off the counter she’d been gripping.
Simon nodded, relieved she was leaving. He ruffled Jack’s hair. “All right, little chap, let’s get you to bed.”
Penelope gazed at Simon and Jack, delaying her departure. Perhaps some regret swirled in her eyes. “Good night, Jack. Mommy loves you,” she stammered, as if it were hard for her to say.
“Good night.” Jack did not return the affection.
Penelope, feeling slighted, rushed out without another word.
Simon didn’t even bother to watch her go or walk her out. He’d done that enough over the last several years. He focused on his son, the best thing in his life. “Would you like to help Daddy find a picture book?” He thought perhaps his son would like to see photos of his dad’s younger years.
“Will you read it to me?” Jack asked, excited. He loved bedtime stories.
Simon would have to make a story up as they went, but he felt up to the challenge. “Yes, mate.”
“Yay!” Jack threw up his fist. “Let’s go on a treasure hunt.”
Simon smiled. He loved how Jack made ordinary things extraordinary. “We must have biscuits, though.”
“Yes!” Jack agreed. “Chocolate Hobnobs, please.”
Simon was glad he’d thought of shipping a case of their favorite biscuits here before leaving Berkshire. “To the cupboard,” he said like a great explorer.
Once they’d retrieved the biscuits, they headed for the spare bedroom.
“We are hunting for a leather book with pictures of your father when he was a dashing young man.” Simon laughed.