Page 10 of Key of Kink

“I know,” she replied quickly. “I didn’t mean⁠—”

“It’s all right. I know what you meant.”

She was quiet for a moment. I pictured her in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, phone tucked between shoulder and ear.

“Are you happy?” she asked at last.

It was as close as she ever came.

I considered the question. “I’m settled. I like my routine. I like where I am.”

“That’s good.” Relief threaded through the words. “That’s very good.” Another pause. “You’re not working too hard, are you? You always did take things seriously.”

I smiled. “I still do.”

“I suppose I just—” She stopped herself, then tried again. “I hope you’re being looked after.”

“I am.” After a beat, I added, “And I’m doing the looking after too.”

That seemed to satisfy her. “Well, that’s what matters.”

We talked about ordinary things after that. The neighbour’s new dog. A leak that might need fixing. Whether I’d remembered to wear jumpers because London was always colder than it looked. At last, the conversation drew to a close.

“Call me if you need anything, won’t you?”

“I will.”

“I mean it.”

“I know,” I said.

The line went dead.

I sat there for a moment longer, the phone still warm in my hand. She didn’t understand everything about my life, but she trusted me to build it.

That was enough.

Dinner happened the way it usually did in our house, half-planned and mildly chaotic.

Maya had prepared something lentil-based that was still bubbling away when I entered the kitchen. Sam was setting out plates, and Jess had found an unopened bottle of wine in the fridge.

“Not for me, thanks,” I called out as she filled glasses.

Sam glanced at me but said nothing. Finally, we took our places, and Maya placed two large dishes on mats in the centre of the table. “Help yourselves. There’s plenty.”

A minute or two dishing up vegetables and curry, and we were ready to eat.

“This looks healthy,” I commented. I tried a little. “Tastes like it too.” For all my joking with Mum, Maya was a good cook.

Maya beamed. “Goal achieved, then.”

“So does that mean we can order pizza Friday night?” Jess’s eyes gleamed. “In the interests of having a balanced diet, of course.”

Maya glared. “Maybe you’d like a side order of deep-fried Mars bar with it.”

Sam snorted. He gave me a look. “You’re being suspiciously present.”

I blinked. “I live here, remember?”