Page 19 of The Christmas Wife

"You took my phone."

I lower Max to the floor and he darts off toward the kitchen. I follow him, shut the door that leads from the living room, then lean against it.

"You did, didn’t you?" she grumbles.

"If you mean that piece of shit technology that went out of date…"

"Hey, don’t insult Hedwig."

"Hedwig?"

“My phone, you idiot."

"Who gives a phone a name? Wait, you named your phone after the owl in Harry Potter?"

"Wow." She swallows, "You placed that?"

She stares at me, her gaze taking on that familiar googly-eyed look.

I hold my hands out in front of me. "Don’t go reading anything into it. And for the record, owl post wouldn’t work, in real life," I mutter.

"What do you mean?"

"It’s a scientifically-proven fact that owls can’t stay in flight while carrying packages."

"Just because it isn’t supported by science, doesn’t mean it doesn’t work."

"What do you mean?" I frown.

"Magic, remember?"

"Which is what you believe in, of course? Stars and unicorns and all that girlie shit."

Her face heats, "You could do with believing in a little of that yourself."

"When you’re kidnapped and starved for days, and tortured to within an inch of your life, you lose faith in all that stupid stuff very quickly," I snap.

Her features scrunch up, "I’m so sorry for what happened to you and the Seven."

"I’m not. If it weren’t for that incident, I’d still be naive?—"

"Like me, you mean?"

"You said it." I let my lips curl.

She frowns, "Why am I debating this with you?" She holds out her hand, "Give Hedwig back to me."

"Sorry, I can’t."

"What do you mean?"

“I can’t remember where I put it." I grimace.

"What?"

"If you find it, you can keep it." I raise my shoulders.

"He belonged to me in the first place."

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