Page 106 of The Wedding Pact
‘Not right now. Maybe some other time. Let’s talk after the neighbour drinks tomorrow night, okay?’
‘Callie—’ August stopped. Neighbour drinks? Oh FFS, she’d forgotten all about them. It was their turn to host again.
Callie held her hands up, but still refused to look August or Flynn in the face, and August would have given anything in that moment to go back to the first day they moved in, to when she met Callie, who was immediately kind to her, outside the building, bringing her tea, smiling and open and honest. She wished she’d told the truth right there and then, rather than watch Callie leave, and for August to become the villain in her own story.
Chapter 79
August
August was left staring at the closed front door. Callie knew something was up.
No, no, Callie couldn’t have put two and two together basedonlyon that debacle. That would be impossible. At the most, Callie must think they have marriage troubles. Flynn dived into the shower, and so she went to her room to get dressed, and it was then she noticed both of their bedrooms on full show. Was it that that had given them away to Callie?
August changed, slowly, listening for sounds of Flynn, taking comfort in knowing he was back home again.
He was back, he came back. Of course he had, all of his things were here, but the real question was would he stay?
Her stomach fluttered, thoughts of Flynn tumbling and jostling for space, pushing those of Callie aside, because having him back on the other side of the wall made her happy. It was really,reallynice to see him.
She pulled on some pink leggings and a snuggly ice-blue sweatshirt, and placed her hand on the wall, straining to hear his voice as he sang softly to himself inside the bathroom.
Her phone began to ring.
Abe. Abe, of course, she was supposed to be seeing him tonight, he was the whole reason for the fancy outfit, not Flynn. ‘Hey, Abe,’ she sang down the line, stealing a glance towards the bathroom where the shower was still running.
Why did she feel like she was cheating on her husband, when he wasn’t even her real husband? He’d probably just spent the last two weeks getting it on with his ex-girlfriend.
‘Hello, August?’ Abe said, as formal as ever, and she rolled her eyes. The reason it felt like cheating is because if she was right about the spark she and Abe shared, and if she did something about it, in his eyes shewouldappear to be a cheater. An adulteress even.
‘Hey, what’s up? Still on for dinner?’
He cleared his throat. ‘I’m ever so sorry, my mum’s not feeling good at all this evening, and I think I’d better keep an eye on her. Would it be all right with you if we rescheduled, perhaps I could come back to Bath again next weekend?’
‘That’s fine,’ she said, hoping he didn’t hear the disappointment in her voice. ‘Of course. Is Mrs H okay?’
‘Yes, I’m sure she’ll be absolutely fine, but you know how it is … ’
‘Of course. Is there anything I can do? I could bring dinner up for both of you?’ She still wanted to see him, she realised, she still wanted to be near him. God, she was a mess at the moment.
Abe hesitated, and she listened to his soft breath down the phone line for a second. ‘No, that’s all right, August. I think it will be better to wait to see each other until next week, and then maybe Flynn could come along as well … ’
‘Flynn’s back, actually, Abe. He came home early.’
‘I see,’ he replied.
She understood what he was telling her, though it took her by surprise. He was breaking up with her, in a way, or at least breaking the threads they were beginning to form. He didn’t want to be the other man. He was stepping away from her, and what might have been.
August moved out towards the living room window, the sound of the shower still running, wondering if it was even true about Mrs H feeling unwell, and that if not, he’d felt he’d had to lie to her to let her down gently. She needed to figure her shit out, and pick a lane: did she want Abe to think she’d cheat on someone for him, or did she want to tell him the truth?
Did she want to finally tell all of them the truth?
Was she ready?
If anybody passing the house on Elizabeth Street at that moment had looked up they would have seen a woman gazing out of her window on the first floor, lost in thought, or just lost. And if they’d turned their eyes upwards, not one, but two, floors higher, they would have seen a man looking much the same.
Chapter 80
Flynn
