Page 122 of The Homemaker
I can’t stop thinking about Hunter, Vera, and Blair. They have me on a pedestal the way I used to have Murphy on one. The betrayal would be crushing.
“Then do it. Marry her and love me.”
He furrows his brow.
“Bye, Murphy.” I turn, gripping my keys and holding my breath to keep it together.
He doesn’t trust me, but they do. I never imagined wanting someone’s trust so much, but I do. I want the Morrisons to feel good about hiring me since they now have this overwhelming gratitude.
Chapter Forty-Six
Murphy
If life were easy, what would be the point?
Marry her and love me?
What kind of advice was that?
Had Alice not reappeared in my life, I would marry Blair, have a family, and live a beautiful life. No questions. No doubt.
This is where there’s an all caps BUT.
Alice is back in my life, and my heart has not forgotten about her, nor has it stopped loving her.
When I met Blair, I was attracted to her talent, her beauty, and how she felt like a breath of fresh air when I desperately needed one. I felt confident and cool. My game was on point. My charm turned way up.
However, when I met Alice that day in the backyard of my rental, I was nervous, fumbling my words, blushing, andfor two weeks she had me acting and feeling like a young boy crushing on the prettiest, most talented girl in school.
Eight years later, she makes me feel like that young boy again. Maybe it’s because she’s been a mystery. But I don’t know if I can solve her, and that’s why I can’t completely trust her. So I’m spying on her like I did when she was my renter.
Where is she going?
What is she doing?
And why?
While Blair splits her time between visiting her dad, finalizing wedding plans, and overseeing the construction of her gallery via video calls, I obsess over Alice’s every move.
Yesterday, she sat on a park bench, reading a book while kids played on the equipment and kicked soccer balls in the grass, and Canadian geese shit all over the concrete walking path that led to a fishing pond. I didn’t stay the whole time like a bona fide stalker. After satiating my curiosity, I went back to work.
Today, she’s meeting with a realtor to tour a house for sale in Edina, where the housing is not exactly cheap.
Is she moving? Quitting her job?
Why a house? Why here? If she quits her job, can she afford to live here?
This all should get filed under “It’s None of My Fucking Business,” but having sex with her, a few days ago, felt like I was making her my business.
I don’t stick around and risk her seeing me when she leaves the house. Instead, I message Blair. We need to talk.
When I arrive at the restaurant, Blair waves me over to a table on the patio.
“This is such an unexpected surprise,” she says before kissing me.
I hold out her chair for her to sit down again. “A lot has been going on, and I thought we should call a time-out, slow down, and talk.”
She releases a sigh that’s so big her shoulders drop an inch. Then she reaches for my hand, giving it a squeeze. Her glossed lips tip into a soft smile. “I took a pregnancy test.”
