Page 97 of Secret Paths

“We are seeing each other casually.”

“That is not a thing.”

“It feels like a thing.”

“It is sex, Peter.”

I go quiet.

She notices. I can tell by the way her mouth tightens, but she keeps going anyway.

“That is what we agreed. No expectations. No relationship. No gossip. No telling Alexandra.”

“I remember.”

“Then why are you trying to change it?”

“I am not trying to change it.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I am trying not to spend another morning trapped upstairs while my sister interrogates leftovers.”

“That happened because you stayed over.”

I push out a breath and look towards the window. The street beyond the glass looks harmless. Quiet cottages, damp pavement, a bit of weak morning light catching the tops of the hedges. Nothing out there suggests my life has become complicated enough to require hotel-based emergency calls and a secret exit strategy.

“I do not like lying to Lexi,” I say.

“Then leave before morning.”

The words affect me more than I should allow them to.

“I did not mean it like that,” she says quietly.

“Yes, you did.”

“No. I meant the rules are there for a reason.”

“What reason?”

“To keep this simple.”

I laugh once, without much humour. “How is that going?”

She looks away.

That is answer enough.

Because simple does not include cottage pie. Simple does not include sleeping fully dressed beside each other because neither of us wanted to move. Simple does not include my best friend inventing a fridge emergency so I can avoid being found in Mandy’s bedroom by my sister and a chef with professional opinions about Worcestershire sauce.

Simple has packed a bag and left St Claire entirely.

Mandy rubs her thumb across the inside of her wrist. “I do not want this to get messy.”

“I know.”

“It is good as it is.”