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Poppins.
It was that gesture that really did it. I wasn’t planning on getting rid of Cocksucker’s flowers. But seeing how thoughtful and inherently fantastic this woman was, I couldn’t chance her going back to this jerk. She was too good for him. It was time to intervene and do the world a favor.
I marched back outside and threw out all the roses. Stuffed all of them into a dumpster downstairs.
She was going to find out sooner or later that he’d sent her flowers and that I threw them out, but not today, and probably not tomorrow either. Besides, the momentary satisfaction of sticking it to that asshole was worth her future wrath.
I went back upstairs and wolfed down her zucchini dish. It still tasted too healthy for me to seriously enjoy it, but at least it wasn’t a lettuce sandwich.
I hopped into the shower, got out, and walked over to the couch. Duffy had left her iPad there, probably when she was in a hurry to get out and help Laura with her cat. I picked it up to put it aside. It was an old-school iPad, without an automatic password authenticator.
As soon as I grabbed it, the screen flashed with an incoming message. It must’ve been connected to her phone.
The message was from BJ.
I’m coming home for you, Duffy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
DUFFY
I’m coming home for you, Duffy.
Rolling my eyes so hard I was stunned they didn’t end up all the way in Hoboken, I swiped my finger to delete the message. The alternative was to reply with something snarky to BJ, along the lines of “I know you’re good at coming, but I wish you’d reciprocate sometimes.” These days, I’d been riding the O train at least three times a day. It was always on time and reached its destination unfailingly. The only reason I didn’t rub my relationship with Riggs in BJ’s face was because I didn’t want to reduce Riggs to a mere rebound. He was so much more than that.
Oh, and because the relationship wasn’t, you know,real.
The latter was something I had to remind myself repeatedly as I found myself doing wifely things for him. Cook for him, cuddle with him, tell him about my darkest secrets and naughtiest desires while we were wrapped up in one another, limbs tangled, hearts beating to the same rhythm.
Slipping my phone back into my purse, I dashed down the corridor to Charlie’s hospital room. I felt bad for not dropping everything and rushing to his aid when I found out he’d been admitted, but earlier today Laura called to tell me her kitten, Bubsy, had fallen from the top cabinet of her kitchen. She saw him on the nanny cam while at work but couldn’t tend to him until later tonight. I wanted to repent for how shitty I’d been to her in recent years, so I rushed to her aid.
Now I was in front of Charlie’s door, dreading to open it and see what waited inside. Not only did I like my old neighbor quite a bit, but if I really was right about who he was to Riggs (which seemed unlikely and yet so incredibly obvious at the same time), I had a moral dilemma on my hands.
I knocked on the door.
“Come in, Daphne.”
I pushed the door open and padded inside sheepishly. Charlie was lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to all sorts of monitors. He looked pale and sickly and not himself.
I plastered a smile on my face and presented him with a slice of pineapple pizza—his favorite—and a can of Coke.
“Medicinal junk food,” I announced.
“Just what the doctor ordered.” His eyes lit up, but the rest of him remained dimmed, curled over the big bed like a book-pressed flower.
Plopping on the recliner, I speared him with a chiding look. “You’ve got a lot to answer for, mister. You should’ve told me.”
He coughed into his fist before tucking into the pizza, not meeting my eyes. “You’ve been busy recently. Plus, I don’t go advertising my sickness for all to see.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I followed him with my gaze. His movements were slow and labored. “You know bloody well I’m not talking about your illness. Though we’ll get to that too.”
He sighed, dropping the pizza onto the paper plate.“Fuck.”
So it was true, then. My chest felt like someone was trying to wring it dry.
“Language,” I said haughtily. “But yes,fucksums it up nicely.”
“I guess someone needs to know.” Charlie looked around us, as if making sure we were indeed alone. “And I guess that someone must be you, since you’re the one constant person in my life.”
