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She chuckled. “Yeah, she’s still making her herbal concoctions.”
“She scared the shit out of me that time she turned up dressed as a witch at my tenth birthday party.”
Mirabel giggled. “You did have a witches-and-warlocks theme, and she needed the money, so your parents gave her the gig.”
I laughed at that amusing childhood memory. We had plenty of those, and it was nice sharing them with her.
Right now, however, it was Mirabel, the woman who had me in her thrall. She was so stunning, I couldn’t take my eyes away from her. She wasn’t wearing makeup, and her porcelain skin looked radiant. She’d put on a little bit of weight but in all the right places.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She smoothed down her waist-long, wavy hair. “I know I look a fright.”
I shook my head slowly. “You’ve grown even more beautiful, Mirabel. Motherhood really suits you.”
She smiled tightly and resumed looking downwards. She rose. “I’m sorry I haven’t offered you anything.”
“I’m good. I don’t need anything. I’m just happy to be here.”
She tangled her fingers, then those big, limpid eyes rose to meet mine. “I’m sorry for shutting you out.”
“I wasn’t going anywhere.” I placed my hand on hers.
She withdrew her hand abruptly as though my palm were a glass shard.
“Why?” It wasn’t easy getting Mirabel to talk about her feelings. I found that odd. Most girls I’d dated loved to talk about their feelings.
She paused at the crib and tipped her head for another look at Cian, her frown dissolving into a smile. Settling on a stool by the crib, Mirabel started to fold nappies from a washing basket.
“Do you want me to go? Am I being a nuisance?” I asked.
She shook her head then stared deeply into my eyes, mesmerising me again. “You know how we kissed at Jasmine’s party that time?”
“That was one kiss I remember very well.”
“And as you know, I bolted.” She folded the square in a desultory fashion and picked up another. “You were fucking everyone by that stage.”
Apologising for overactive adolescent hormones wasn’t an easy conversation. I cleared my throat. “Testosterone will do that to a teenager.”
“I get that. And had we, or had you taken my virginity, I would not have expected marriage.” Her eyebrow rose.
“Right.” I rubbed my neck. “I would have loved to have been your first. But shit, I was only sixteen.”
She fumbled with the cloth absently. “Anyway, I liked you. Like everyone did. You dick.”
I laughed. “You were being chased, too, from memory. You were gorgeous then. Now even more so.”
Her cheeks reddened. Mirabel, for all her experience, still had this adorable tendency to blush whenever complimented.
“That’s why I didn’t let you go all the way—because I liked you too much. I sensed you’d break my heart. And then lo and behold, next minute, you’re on with Mariah. I mean the same fucking night.”
I grimaced. “Ouch. Not my finest hour. But hey, Mariah? Everyone had fucked Mariah.” I studied her for a moment. “So, let me get this straight—you’re still punishing me for that?” A lightbulb went off in my head. “Oh, is that why you fucked Orson? To get back at me? To test me?”
She dropped her head and picked at her fingernails. “I was really drunk and trying to get over you. I really fucking regret it.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve had a few regrettable fucks myself.”
Her eyes fired up. “That’s what I mean.”
“What?” I opened out my palms.
