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“You’re here,” Zoe bubbles, hugging Kelly’s legs.
“Of course. I couldn’t miss seeing my favorite girl.”
I just met the child, and Kelly is someone she clearly knows very well, so I shouldn’t feel the pang of jealousy that hits me. But I do.
And I know it’s because I’m a stranger who shouldn’t really be here.
“Can we please go to the bakery? Please, please, please.” Zoe jumps up and down, clapping her hands.
Kelly looks at Jeanne, who nods.
“Sure, but not too many sweets.” Jeanne points at Zoe, who crosses her little fingers and straightens as if she’s standing to attention.
“I promise you, grandma, I won’t eat too many sweets.” She sounds so sweet I smile again.
“I’ll hold you to that, my little darling.”
“I’ll have her back in a few hours,” Kelly promises, then she raises her finger as if she just remembered something. “Oh, Malik called me earlier. He said he forgot to tell you there’d be a delivery after lunch.”
Malik called her?
He was away last night, but he spoke to her earlier?
No one can tell me I shouldn’t feel uncomfortable that my new husband was talking to another woman first thing this morning. Or that I shouldn’t find it strange he spoke to her about a delivery instead of Jeanne, who’s supposed to be in charge.
Wake up, Gwen; they’re totally screwing around.He probably spent the night with her, too, and all the things he’s said about his feelings being real was absolute fucking bullshit I fell for because...
Because what?
I’m desperate?
I was hoping to still hold on to the belief that I’m not broken and could do better than Gage Miller who fucked my life up.
It turns out that I couldn’t do better. I actually did a hundred times worse.
“Good, I’ve been waiting for that delivery for days.” Jeanne chuckles, but she glances at me, and I can tell she’s sensed the shift in my mood. “It’s just the new shelves I ordered for the pantry.”
“Oh, good. I love it when we redecorate.” Kelly rocks back on her heels, pushing out one muscular leg. “See you guys later.”
“Yayyy.” Zoe skips when Kelly takes her hand.
I watch the two leave. When I turn back to Jeanne, I find her already looking at me.
“I’ve made us some sandwiches. Do you want to join me for lunch? We can sit out on the terrace under the gazebo.”
“I’d like that.”
“Good, let me grab everything.”
“Can I help?”
“Sure, you can carry the juice.” She points to the large jug of juice on the tray on the opposite counter.
I take down two glasses from the cupboard, set them on the tray, and carry it out while Jeanne carries her tray of delicious-looking gourmet sandwiches.
Seeing I’m in good hands, Sebastian trots away to his little room.
As it’s still raining, we continue through the sunroom and make our way out to the gazebo. There, we place our trays on the little wicker table and sit opposite each other, wrapped in the fresh scent of rain and spring flowers.
