Page 46 of Unsuitable

“Hey.” I paste on a smile.

“Hey. Everything okay?”

I nod my head.

“I was just coming to grab some milk. We ran out, and I’m dying for a cuppa.”

“Sure. You want me to grab it for you?”

“Looks like you’ve got your hands full.” He nods at the stuff I’m carrying. “How about I help you with this stuff, and then we can get the milk together?”

“Sure,” I say, smiling, as I hand over the bucket to him, my thoughts about Kas momentarily forgotten.

Thirteen

I’m nervous.

Scared and beyond terrified of how Jesse is going to be when I see him.

God, I wonder what he looks like now. I haven’t seen him in so long, not since the day I was sentenced in court.

“You ready?” Cece’s soft voice comes from beside me.

We’re sitting in Cece’s car, across the street from where Jesse lives. She offered to drop me off before she heads to work.

“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t know if I can do this, Ce.”

I’ve wanted to see Jesse so badly since my release, but now that I’m so close to it happening, I’m sick with nerves.

She places her hand over mine, gripping it. “There’s no need to be afraid. It’s just Jesse—that sweet kid you raised, who adores you.”

“Not anymore. He hates me.”

“No, he doesn’t. He’s fourteen and angry, and he has a massive chip on his shoulder because he convinced himself that you’d left him. He knows, deep down, that it isn’t true. He just needs to see you. I think, once he sees you and you guys start talking, things will be okay.”

I look at the surety in her eyes and try to feel it myself.

“Yeah, you’re right.” I force a smile. “Thanks for the lift.” I lean over and kiss her cheek. “Have a good day at work. See you at home later.”

“Have a great day,” she calls as I climb out of the car. “And tell our boy I said hi.”

“Will do.” I give her a thumbs-up and then shut the door.

I watch her car pull away, and then I cross the street to the boys home where Jesse lives.

Walking up the steps to the front door, my legs are trembling. I take a deep breath and lift a shaking hand to ring the doorbell.

I wait, my leg jigging on the spot.

Through the frosted glass, I see someone approaching the door. Then, the door opens, revealing a man with light-brown hair, who looks to be in his early thirties.

“Hi, I’m Daisy Smith, Jesse’s sister. I was told to ask for Tim Marshall.”

“I’m Tim.” He smiles. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Daisy. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

He has?

That must mean that Jesse has talked about me.