Page 33 of Homewrecker


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Not sure what to do with my day now, I walk into the kitchen and avoid looking at my phone.

I keep thinking that maybe Cade will message me.

Reach out.

Why else would he have found me on social media?

I mean, at this point, it must be obvious I’m not doing the film. The cast and crew are into the week of read-throughs; they were probably going to start filming in the next week or two. Rehearsals would be underway, and the cast is official.

So, why would he reach out?

My mind betrays me again, and I can picture him standing in this very kitchen.

I shake my head, removing the image from view, but then my eyes land on the dry erase board.

Where Cade left his number.

I should erase it.

I won’t use it.

I can’t bring myself to erase it though.

Not yet.

Maybe tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I’ll be strong enough to convince myself that any small feelings of want for Cade Johnston are ill-placed.

You don’t want him.

You don’t think that maybe you could like him.

That maybe he could like you.

No.

Never.

Well, certainly not now, at the least.

And in a few weeks’ time, I’ll have a baby.

A baby, I’d decided, I was keeping.

Even if I fancied the man being interested in me, he certainly wouldn’t be when a screaming infant was in the picture.

It does me no good to want the man.

So, yes. I’ll leave his number on the board for today. I’ll give myself these last few hours, but after?

That will be my task this week.

Forgetting the day Cade Johnston introduced himself.

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