Page 100 of The Jealous Girl

My stomach tightened.

‘Trying?’

I glanced at Denise. She lifted her glass of white wine to her lips, her gaze still locked on me, but she said nothing.

‘Trying to force your way into the family.’

My jaw dropped open as I turned back to Charlotte. ‘I’m not trying to force my way into anything.’

‘Sunday lunch was a smart way to do it,’ Charlotte continued, as though she hadn’t heard me.

‘We invited Ryan’s parents to join us for lunch, so we could all get to know each other better.’

Charlotte snorted. ‘We already know enough about you to know you don’t belong here.’ She waved her hand dismissively. ‘You didn’t two years ago, and you don’t now.’

I swallowed.

‘I think Ryan would disagree with you.’

Even as I said it, I wondered how true it was.

‘The two of you may have had some fun in Malta. But this – us – is real life. Ryan’s life.’

‘Maybe,’ I said quietly. ‘But I’m part of his life now too.’ I smiled. ‘His future.’

Charlotte’s jaw tightened and she looked like she was about to respond, but then her gaze shifted over my head. ‘That was quick.’

Ryan and Martin slipped back into their seats.

‘So, what are you girls talking about?’ Martin asked.

‘Oh, we were just saying what a pleasure it is to get to know Kirsty after all this time,’ Charlotte said, smiling sweetly at me. ‘She was never really very involved with the family before.’

35

NOW

Late August

Wednesday

I pressed the button, releasing the exterior door, and waited for Ryan to push the door open and disappear off the intercom screen.

I remained in the hallway, not sure what to do as I waited for him to come up the stairs. It felt weird buzzing him in and standing at the door to the flat, waiting to let him in. My gaze drifted to the two sets of keys hanging side by side on their hooks beside the door. His key hadn’t moved since the day he’d left.

I flinched at the knock on the door, even though I’d been expecting it.

He was here.

I took a shaky breath, trying to settle the apprehension that welled in my stomach. The last few times I’d seen him he’d been cold and distant.

And yet now he was here…

Which version of him was about to walk through the door?

The one who’d walked out?

The one who’d treated me with hostility and contempt in the days since?