Page 53 of How To Not Need You

My eyes sting.

Fuck.

I don't want to find out. I don't know if there'd be enough of me left to rebuild. When I look at Harper again, the smug smile is gone.

She reaches across the blanket and squeezes my hand.

I squeeze back.

Tilly shifts against me and curls one small hand into my shirt. I close my eyes. I don't pray. Haven't in years. But apparently today we're breaking all sorts of rules.

Please.

Don't make me survive this too.

Chapter

Ten

Jake

Natalie unfolds the photograph again.

We're sitting around one of the tables at Page & Grounds, but the second I see it, I'm back at Whisk & Wonder this morning, after Ben and I decided it was best for us to be the ones to tell her what we found.

The paper between her fingers has been handled so many times now the edges have softened. It’s the one we took outside the grocery store, with Rebecca wrapped around a man who definitely isn't Matthew.

It sat on the passenger seat beside me outside Whisk & Wonder, feeling a hell of a lot heavier than any single photograph had any right to after Ben and I had agreed a printed photo felt better than texting Natalie photographic evidence that the woman dating the man she loved was cheating on him. Ben had spent the drive trying to joke about it, “We should’ve brought magnifying glasses and other proper detective stuff.”

The photo isn't great. It's crooked and taken through the windscreen, but there's no mistaking what we're looking at. His hands are on Rebecca's waist. Her face is pressed into his shoulder. His hands at her waist. Her face pressed into his shoulder. The bags at her feet, abandoned. I’d stared at it for a long moment before sliding it back into the envelope, and beside me Ben had let out a slow breath.

“Well” he’d muttered. “This is one way to ruin someone’s day.”

Neither of us had laughed.

The drive over had been unusually quiet. Ben made a couple of half-hearted attempts at conversation, something about the footy, something else about a new series he’d started watching, before eventually switching the radio off and staring out the window instead. I didn’t push it. Ben jokes when he’s nervous. Ben jokes when he’s uncomfortable. Eventually, even Ben gives up.

We climbed out of the truck and headed inside. Whisk & Wonder still looked halfway between renovation and dream come true. Drop sheets covered one corner of the floor, white canvas speckled with dried plaster. A ladder leaned against an unfinished wall where someone had started painting the trim a soft blue and then decided to stop. None of the shelves in the display cabinet were stocked yet. Although the baking scent made it hard to remember that this place wasn’t open yet.

Natalie looked up from behind the counter, flour dusting the front of her apron in the shape of two small handprints near the hem. She smiled when she saw us, and something about the way it reached her eyes made the envelope in my jacket pocket feel even heavier. With her shoulder-length black hair, bright blue eyes and flour-covered apron, she looks far too fucking cheerful for what we're about to hand her.

“Hey.”

“Hi. You probably don't know us. Luca asked us to help with...” I glance at Ben. “Surveillance sounds bad.”

“Surveillance is accurate,” Ben says.

“Not helping.” I push on when her face drops.

“I'm Jake, and this is…”

“It smells amazing in here,” Ben interrupted.

I looked at him.

“Ben,” I finished.

“Nice to meet you both.” Natalie laughed before adding. “You’re just saying that because you’re hoping I’ll feed you.”