Page 55 of The Two of Us

“I’ve seen photos. Ambrose was all bean pole when he was Matty’s age.” At the mention of her son, her eyes gentle before resuming their harsh state. A sly smirk plays on her face. “I wouldn’t have thought he’d turn into such a sexy man. Did you?”

She’s dangling the bait right in front of me, urging me to take a bite.

“Where is Matty today?” I breathe.

She focuses her attention on a snagged piece of thread on the couch cushion and says, “He’s at a friend’s house.”

I think of Laura and for a reason I can’t pinpoint, the idea of Anya having a sibling fills me with unease. And the fact that it’s someone so kind and selfless makes it even more bizarre. I fold the envelope in my hand. “Maybe I should just give this back to Laura to pass on to Ambrose. She seems to know his schedule a lot better.”

Anya’s face sours at the mention of her sister’s name. “Laura sent you? Why didn’t she just drop it off herself?”

“I offered. She’s been swamped lately.”

Anya scoffs. “Sounds like Laura. She’s so good at playing martyr, she doesn’t even have to ask people to do her bidding.”

A sense of protectiveness for my new friend washes over me. “Laura’s not like that.”

“That’s the impression she gives me,” she says, her expression still bored.

“That’s surprising.”

“And why is that?”

“I’d have thought at least her little sister would acknowledge her genuineness.”

Anya’s expression becomes hateful and we both know I’ve caught her off guard. She didn’t expect me to know intimate information about her like she knows about me. It’s immature, but I revel in the small win.

The floodgates on her barely contained disdain open wide. “You know nobody wants a coward like you back in this town, right?”

There it is. The beast on full display. Why bother luring me into her den when she could have just ripped my head off at the door? Her words sting, but I don’t disagree with her. I’m a coward. A coward who abandoned my hometown and everyone in it when I couldn’t face the repercussions of my actions.

“I want to be gone just as much as you want me gone, Anya.”

She jerks at my admission. It must not have crossed her mind that I could possibly hate myself more than everyone else does. The front door opens and her jaw tightens with protectiveness. “He’s made peace with what happened. Don’t drag him back to that place, he blamed himself enough.”

My throat seizes. “He blamed himself?”

Ambrose rounds the corner, stopping short at the sight of me and Anya sitting across from each other. My hands tremble and I slip them under my thighs, bearing down hard enough to focus on the pain instead of Anya’s words.

Our silence is a tangible entity in the room.

“Mara… what are you doing here?”

Ambrose doesn’t move any farther into the room, but his scent is already settling into the space, making me heady. Anya’s sneer remains glued to her face. She’s more than happy to let me fend for myself.

I clear my throat. “I was on my way out and I thought I’d drop off this check to you. Laura’s been busy. And you have to accept the money. Laura won’t take no for an answer.”

Not a complete lie. I hold up the envelope as evidence, the tremor in my hand causing it to billow in the air like a kite. I lean forward and drop it on the coffee table.

Ambrose’s eyes jump from me to Anya, as if trying to assess the temperature of the room.

“I should get going.” I fumble to grab my purse and keys from the floor.

When Ambrose says nothing, I duck my chin at Anya and make a beeline for the front door. Heavy boots trail behind me.

“Wait.”

Ambrose rubs the back of his neck. Is he nervous?

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