Page 102 of Until I Have You

Edwin pitches the mug to the ground, coffee splattering across the deck, followed by shards of ceramic.

I step back, my eyes widening.I haven’t seen this form of Edwin since my twenties, the bulldoggish man who would look for fights when no one was picking them.

“Dramatic?You think I’m being dramatic?”he yells, closing in on me.

“Bloody hell, mate.Obviously, you’re being–”

Edwin grabs the collar on my shirt and, before I know it, I’m pressed up against the railing.“Tell the fucking truth.”

“Edwin, what the bloody hell!”

“Have you kissed Abigail?”

His knuckles dig into the front of my throat, constricting my airway.“Edwin–”

With crazed eyes, he repeats, “Tell me the truth.”

“Yes!”I exclaim.“All right?Yes.Now let me go!”

Edwin’s anger shatters, his lips dipping down, and his eyes turning sad.He pushes me away by my collar and turns around, head in his hands.

I rub at the front of my throat, a mixture of anxiety and relief inside me.

There.It’s out.No more secrets.

What will happen now that it’s out, though, I don’t know.

“It was a mistake.I…we…”

Edwin scoffs.“It just happened?Is that what you’re going to say?”

“Only because it’s the truth.It was just a kiss.Once.I told her no more.”

The hurt is evident on his face.“She followed you out of reception last night.”

I can’t hide the surprise on my face.I hadn’t considered she hadn’t been cautious in coming after me.

“You’re telling me that it was out of kindness?”Edwin asks.

“It was out ofakindness, yes.”Which isn’t a falsehood.

The door to the inside opens.Jack sticks his head out, furrowing his darkened brow.“What’s going on?”

“Ask him,” Edwin says, tossing a hand in my direction.

“Come on, mate, it’s not this serious.”I try to smile.

“It’s my daughter.Of course it’s that serious.How would you feel if–”

A switch flips inside me.“Bonnie is a child.Abigail is a grown woman.”

“Who you knew when she was a child, and now you’re–you’re–” Edwin gestures to the air.“God, have you done more thankissedher?”

Jack’s expression shifts to horror.“Oh my god, you and Abigail?”

“Can we keep our voices down when we have this conversation?My daughter is inside if you recall,” I try to reason.

“So is mine,” Edwin says, jerking his thumb up toward the upstairs windows.“But since when have you cared about her beingmy daughter?”

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