Page 93 of The Forbidden Fling

“Yeah,” Quin added. “That’ll be enough to give all the birds on the island a pedicure.”

Lukas cracked up, squeezing Quin’s shoulder before adding sugar to his stack of pancakes. Her dads had been amazing with Quin. Not that she’d had any doubt, but it hadn’t taken long for Quin to become another part of the extended family.

She sliced through her pancake, putting the sugary goodness to her lips. Eating pancakes on a Sunday morning with people she loved, a job she adored, a life not confined to the four walls of her bedroom. It was enough. So why did she keep thinking about the spare seat at the table and how Diana might fit into this dynamic?

She chewed slowly, no longer hungry. She knew what her problem was. She was still holding onto hope. That last thread tethered to the balloon was wrapped so tightly around her finger, she couldn’t let it go. Once the last strand was severed, banished to the atmosphere, that was it.

The end. Game over. Goodbye.

Senhor Arenoso had said that we need goodbyes to be able to transition. Faye needed closure, and no amount of running was going to give her that. She needed to speak with Diana. But how? When?

Diana confirming Faye’s every fear about the time they’d spent together was only going to set her back…but maybe that’s what she needed to sever the thread for good.

She finally swallowed her mouthful, the syrupy sugar too sweet for the churning in her belly. Truthfully, she didn’t think she’d ever be ready. Good job they were thousands of miles apart, and the chances of bumping into Diana at Tesco and having that conversation were slim to none.

So she smiled through the rest of breakfast, accepting it was going to be one of those days where even certain shadows reminded her of the woman who’d crushed her heart. Normally, her run helped beat those stray thoughts into submission; today, tiredness consumed her.

Tomorrow will be better, she told herself. And it normally was. Throwing herself into work, taking care of the local ecosystems and doing something useful always helped to shake the funk. Plus, she and Quin had a couple of apartment viewings lined up.

She’d miss her dads, though. And the cats. Every transition really did come with a goodbye. She looked up from her plate. The three of them were discussing Chappel Roan. Her dads exchanged a glance as Quin ad-libbed a verse about pancakes to “Pink Pony Club”.

The love was in the eyes. The way her parents watched each other without even realising it. Faye wanted that. She’d thought she had it.

Well, you didn’t. So stop moping.

She stood and collected the plates, scraping her leftovers into the bin and then stacking the dishwasher. Mochi sauntered over, inspecting the contents. After confirming there was no food to be had, she pressed herself against Faye’s legs, letting out a low chirp. Faye plucked her up, running her fingers through her thick grey fluff.

She’d miss this little rascal, too.

“Oh, sweetheart, there’s some post for you on the side,” David said as he stood, moving the frying pan to the sink. Mochi wriggled from her grip, darting to the stairs in anticipation of getting fed—though judging by the plumpness of her belly, she already had been.

Lukas caught David’s elbow, guiding him away from the washing up and back to his seat. “Allow me.” He planted a kiss on his cheek. “Although…isn’t it still the newbie’s job?” He shot a playful grin at Quin.

“I’m already on bin duty. These nails aren’t made for manual labour.” They aimed a dramatic sigh towards Faye. “The quicker we move out, the better, huh?”

“I don’t know why you think that’ll change things,” she teased, plucking the stack of envelopes off the counter. “Bin duty suits you.”

The room filled with laughter as she sifted through the mail. A check-up letter for her smear test, a right-wing leaflet that she immediately tore up, and then a manila envelope marked with a Portuguese stamp.

Her breath caught. A letter from Portugal? She quickly dismissed the suggestion that it was a warrant for her arrest. It must be from the island. But why?

Just open it.

As her parents and Quin fell into another debate about the worst household chores, Faye ripped the envelope and slid out the paper inside.

A dozen different emotions rolled over her as she read the words, excitement winning, fizzling through her veins. She read it again, just to be sure, then finally released a breath.

This invitation could be the closure she was looking for.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Diana - Three Months Later

Diana had never desired the attention that accompanied her numerous achievements and accolades. She’d strived hard for herself, not for the benefit of other people, whose false smiles and congratulations hid how they’d rather see you stumble than succeed, so they could use you for their own stepping stone. But still, formalities were formalities, she supposed.

At least on this occasion, it was a little different.

She zoned back in on the conversation around her. Cilla Dorran was droning on to one of the young research assistants, whose excessive nodding showed desperation rather than agreement. Cilla was always in a bad mood. She survived not on oxygen but on complaints and moaning about anything and everything.