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Chapter Thirty-four

Catherine

Assomeonepainfullyfamiliarwith being unwanted, I was always vigilant for the signs.

Disinterest.

Loss of affection.

Sudden silence.

Impatience.

I’d been so eager and proud to show Elliot my almost-finished house, and he stalked through like he couldn’t wait to be out.

That was after barely speaking to me the night before when I’d kind of needed his support. I was scared of what would happen when Liam showed up and had thought I’d made that clear, but Elliot had stayed locked in his home office until long after I’d gone to sleep. Only then had he slid into bed with me.

I’d woken sometime around one a.m. to him holding me in his sleep and had watched him dream. He’d been restless, his mouth moving, muscles twitching, and had finally settled when I’d tangled my legs with his and scooted closer, our bodies flush.

It’d made me feel so good to be the one who could settle him, and I’d thought maybe we were okay.

But the distance returned this morning and hadn’t closed.

The primary bedroom was the last stop. I’d painted it dove gray and hung up some of my art from Mexico that had been in storage.

I gestured to the painting above the bed. “This is by the same artist who did my thigh tattoos.”

He nodded, staring at the painting like he wanted to burn it to a crisp. “Looks good up there. This will be a nice room to wake up in every day. Close to Josephine’s room.”

“It is.” I jiggled her on my hip as she looked around at all the new sights. “Though she’s only ever napped in there. She slept in here with me.”

“She’ll need her crib soon.”

“Yeah. We have to figure that out.” It made me nervous, but it was probably time to give her her own space.

He looked around, nodding. “You did a lot in a short time.”

“I know. A lot of it’s thanks to Miles really narrowing down exactly what needed to be done. I bow to his planning skills,” I quipped, but Elliot barely reacted.

It seemed his mind was elsewhere, just like it had been last night.

We walked down to the living room, and I placed Joey on a pile of blankets with a couple toys. She happily lazed on her back, gumming a rattle.

Elliot toed the ratty couch. “You should probably replace this.”

I scrunched my nose. “I know. It fit when this place was a hovel, but now it looks like it snuck in from the trash pile.”

When we’d begun reno, I’d been thinking I’d be moving back here at the end. But over the last month, my mindset had changed, and I’d started to think I was fixing this place up to sell. The paint I’d chosen was neutral, and I’d talked to Ray and Davida about borrowing some furniture to stage a couple rooms for pictures.

Now, I wasn’t so sure.

Elliot hadn’t asked me to stay or brought it up at all, and he was showing all the signs I had become hyperaware of as a teenager.

Plus, I really needed to stand on my own. Elliot had done so much, even flying to Australia to deal with Liam—which I was deeply embarrassed about. What kind of man wanted to deal with his girlfriend’s…well, baby daddy was the only term for it.

God. No wonder he’s pulling away.

Elliot’s hands were in his pockets instead of on me. “Seems like it’s pretty much finished.”

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