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“Time,” I tell her.
She nods, smiling as she stands and does a stupid little shuffle around the kitchen, slipping her arms around my waist and cuddling me. “Time. Definitely time. And also, in case you forgot today, I’m so stinking proud of you. Mase, too.”
“Thank you, Nina.”
“Always always.”
“Can I have five more minutes?” Ave begs, her hands plastered together and held tight to her chin. “Please, Mummy.”
“You have school in the morning, Ave. One more day, and then it’ll be the weekend. You can have a later night then. It’s already nine o’clock.”
“He said.” She runs to keep up, following me toward her bedroom. “He said I could come see him after Uncle Mase helped him in the shower.”
I walk into her room and find her clean pyjamas, setting them out on the bed. I turn, looking down at her. “Pjs, teeth, bed.”
“Fine,” she groans, taking her pyjamas off the bed and changing into them. When she goes to the bathroom to clean her teeth, I riffle through her bookcase, searching for her favourite.
I wait for over five minutes for her to come back, my trust and confidence in her dwindling with each second passed. Eventually I give up, making my way down the landing toward Lance’s room. I find her sat on the end of his bed with her legs crossed, the two of them both chuckling.
I swallow the bitter lump forming in my throat, knowing it’s silly. I shouldn’t be jealous of the two of them. I’ve wanted this for too long to let my ego get in the way.
“Knock knock,” I announce, stepping fully through the door.
Lance is sat up in the bed, a clean T-shirt covering his broad chest. I quickly drop my eyes, wondering how they managed in the shower. There’s no way Lance let Mason help him like he should have.
“Did we get lost on the way back from the bathroom, Miss Sullivan?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at her.
I hear Lance’s intake of breath as her name passes my lips, but choose to ignore it, knowing he likely didn’t want me to catch the reaction.
“I didn’t mean to,” Waverley tries.
Lance clears his throat. “It is a big old house.”
“See,” Waverley adds.
“Here.” I walk to the bed. “If you’re not too tired,” I say to Lance, catching his gaze and regretting it. The air is knocked from my lungs as I take in his damp hair and freshly trimmed beard, his eyes somehow clear of the shadows that lurked before. And the smell. The smell of his fresh soap, of him, all but knocks me on my ass as I’m taken back years, to a time when he was mine, and I was his, and there was no doubt or question or pain.
Ave swipes the book I have held out in my hand. “I can read in here?”
I try to process her words, still lost somewhere else.
Someplace I’ve missed very much.
“Mum?”
“Just a few pages tonight.” I tear my gaze away and step back, doing all I can to put one foot behind the other and not stumble.
“You can stay, too, Mum. Come sit with me.”
“Not tonight. I’m sorry,” I mutter, not daring another glance in Lance’s direction as I leave the room in a rush.
Once outside, I put my back to the wall and slide to the ground, my heart still pounding—wild.
And then I listen, as my sweet baby gets to read to her dad.
TWELVE
Scarlet
