Page 99 of The Unhinged Christmas of a Cat Lady
Geoff frowns. “That’s fair, isn’t it? I mean, if he’s the father of her kid... it’s always going to be complicated.”
“I know it is,” I say. “And I’m not asking her to pretend it’s not. I just—” I stop. Shrug. “I’d rather know where I stand than keep wondering every time he turns up.”
Theo folds his arms, studying me. “Do you think she’s still in love with him?”
“I don’t think so,” I say. “But I can’t quite tell if she’s working through something, or just being careful. Or both.”
Geoff nods, quieter now. “So what are you going to do?”
I pause, fiddling with the coffee spoon, scraping it gently against the inside of the cup. “I mean… I couldn’t even blame her if she went back to him. They’ve got a whole life together. A son. That kind of history is hard to walk away from.”
Geoff tilts his head. “But?”
“But I don’t want to be the rebound. I don’t want to be… the thing she does while she’s figuring stuff out. I think I want to be more than that.”
Theo says nothing, just watching me like he’s already two steps ahead.
I glance between them, then sit back, exhaling hard. “I think I’m falling for her.”
It lands in the quiet that follows.
Geoff blinks. “Sorry—say that again? I think I just hallucinated.”
“I’m falling for her,” I repeat, quieter now. “Properly. Not in the ‘she’s fit and we get along’ way. In the ‘I look at her and wonder where we are going to celebrate our ten-year anniversary.”
Geoff stares at me like I’ve just grown a second head.
Theo, on the other hand, just smiles—not smug this time. Just... knowing.
“Well,” he says, lifting his coffee cup in mock salute. “Welcome to the club.”
“What club?”
“The poor sods who’ve fallen head over heels,” he says. “I wrote Ivy a little love note this morning. You’re in good company.”
Geoff shakes his head. “You two are making me nauseous. I’m going to go flirt with the barista and pretend none of this happened.”
He gets up and disappears in the direction of the counter, muttering something about emotional contagion.
Theo watches him go, then turns back to me. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
“I’m doomed?”
“You’re invested. Which means you’ll have to stop hovering in the background like a Victorian ghost and actually tell her how you feel.”
I grunt. “I was hoping there’d be a middle ground.”
“There’s not,” he says, smiling into his cup. “It’s terrifying. But also… worth it.”
I nod slowly, the words still sitting heavy in my chest.
“I hope so!”
I turn into the drive, tyres crunching over gravel.
As the house comes into view, something shifts in my peripheral—a small shape on the steps outside the flat.
I park, engine ticking as it cools, and walk around the side.
