Page 26 of Unforeseen Love

Me: I’ll be there, everyone can bring their own beer.

Laughing to myself, I place my phone on my bedside table and go shower.

When I’m leaving the bathroom, I can hear Sienna talking to the kittens, but her voice is croaky from lack of sleep.

I walk in and find her on the floor, the kittens all in her lap.

“I have some good news,” I say, rounding the sofa.

Her face turns towards me and then she’s covering her eyes with her hand, her cheeks turning a beautiful shade of red.

“Eww, could you go put some clothes on?” she mumbles.

Instead, I perch on the arm of the sofa but make sure to keep my twigs and berries out of sight––the last thing I need is her passing out.

“Such a prude,” I reply, knowing full well it’ll get a rise out of her.

Sienna drops her hand immediately, giving me a scathing look as she narrows her eyes on me.

“Is there a particular reason you’re out here in only a towel?”

I reach out for the kitten I named Morticia and kiss her little nose.

“I spoke to my aunt. Her and Uncle Ewan said they’ll foster the kittens.”

Her face drops and she stares at the three nestled in her lap. It’s clear she’s grown quite attached, epically to the grey one I named Bucky.

“It’s only until they no longer need weening, and maybe then you can adopt one. I happen to know the landlord. I’m sure he won’t mind you having a cat on a permanent basis.”

Her eyes dart to mine. “You think Ewan would be okay with that?”

“What? Looking after the kittens?” I nod. “Yeah, of course.”

She reaches out and takes Morticia from my hands. “No, me having one here as a pet.”

I frown now, and then it registers… shit, she thinks this place is Uncle Ewan’s.

Rubbing my palm across my short beard, I tilt my head slightly.

“You know this is actually my place, right?”

Her mouth drops open. Shit, it would appear I have my answer.

“What? But I thought… because of downstairs…”

I stand up and grip the edge of my towel to hold it in place––don’t want to give her another unnecessary surprise.

“No, it’s mine, he’s been sub-letting for me while I was living in Ireland.”

Truth is, it’s the main reason I never got a mortgage with Orla. She started on about moving in together less than two months after we started going out, and when I say going out, we were technically only fucking at that point.

I cringe, thinking back to how we rushed into everything and that she probably would have talked me into going ahead with an engagement too if it weren’t for me finding out about her indiscretions––it probably would have worked too. I’ve never met anyone quite as manipulative, and the fact I didn’t see it until after the fact is what pissed me off the most.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no saint, but from the moment we became exclusive, I never strayed. One thing I am not is a cheat.

The fact she’s still harassing me as though we’re on a break is ridiculous.

“Oh, I didn’t realise,” she says, drawing my attention back to her.

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