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We’re supposed to meet next week for lunch. Or was it this week, now? I don’t think I even know what day of the week it is since the chaos that’s unfolded.
I clear my throat. “Lunch. Did I miss lunch? I’m so sorry. I should have called.”
Darcy shrugs. “It’s fine. You’re busy. I … get it.” Her gaze falls to Saoirse again. “I see why, now. I’m sorry, I should have called before stopping by like this.”
Saoirse squares her shoulders, standing taller. Her body is tense against me. I’ve known her long enough to know that Darcy is making her uncomfortable. That her quiet demeanor when she usually greets strangers with a hug has her out of her element.
I attempt to read Saoirse’s face, but she doesn’t let up, giving me no indication of her emotions. Finally, she clears her throat and jabs her arm out to shake Darcy’s hand. “Hi, I’m Saoirse. Nice to meet you.”
Darcy’s cheeks heat as she nervously takes her hand. “Darcy. I’m …” She clears her throat, shuffling on her feet. Her gaze turns to me in a silent plea for help.
“Darcy is Louis’ wife.Was.Louis’ wife,“ I say.
Darcy nods. “Right.”
“Oh …” Saoirse says. The light bulb goes off in her head as she remembers Alastair Green’s funeral. “Oh. Darcy. Right.” She turns back toward the woman. “It’s nice to meet you. Maybe you guys can grab dinner instead?”
“No,” I say at the same time Darcy is saying, “Yes.”
I shoot Saoirse a glare. “I’m working. I can’t just leave you.”
Saoirse waves a hand. “Haley is coming over. She’ll bring Finn. It’ll be fine.”
I sigh. She’s right. Darcy came all this way to see me when I ghosted her for our lunch plans.
“It’s fine,” Saoirse says, squeezing my elbow. “I think Corbin is supposed to stop by, too.”
I scowl, glaring at her as she smirks. I know there’s a game she’s trying to play here, but I can’t figure out what it is exactly. Is she trying to make me jealous with the fiancé she still has yet to end things with?
“Fine,” I say, turning to Darcy. I fish the keys from my pocket and sort through them until I find a house key. “Here,” I say, offering it to her. “I’ve got to take Saoirse home after work. And then I’ll come and pick you up? Keep the door locked. And take the key in case you’d like to leave. I’m betting there’s nothing in the fridge.”
Darcy takes the key, her hand lingering over mine for a moment too long before she pulls away. “I don’t mind hanging out here. I did the dishes.” She clears her throat, then heads for a pile of books on the coffee table. “I can tidy up a bit.”
“Please, you don’t have to,” I say. “Really.”
She ignores me, organizing the books by size.
“Where’s Frog?” Saoirse asks, circling the couch. She drops to her hands and knees, calling for the cat as she crawls.
I stuff my hands into the pockets of my black trousers, smirking as she continues to crawl around, her hair falling everywhere. My heart smiles at how serene it is, at her being in my place, comfortable and helping me gather the cat.
“He’s locked in my room,” I say, finally ready to let her get up.
She huffs, pushing off the floor. “Why didn’t you start with that?”
I laugh, and she follows me down the hall. When we reach the bedroom door, I twist it open, and we’re met with a symphony of angry meowing. Frog brushes against my leg, then circles figure eights between me, using me as a back scratcher.
Orange fur clings to my pants, and Saoirse bends down to scoop the feline into her arms. “Be careful. He doesn’t like to be held,” I warn.
Frog presses his cheek against hers and lets out a soft meow. Then he begins to purr, like a motor roaring to life. She giggles, scratching under his chin, then presses a kiss to the top of his head.
“He seems content to me,” she says, smiling as I grab the collapsable cat kennel from under my bed.
“I need to empty his litter box so we can take it,” I say.
She shakes her head. “Gross. I’ll have one sent to the house for him. And his food too.”
I set the carrier on the bed, then grab the soft fleece blanket Frog uses as a makeshift pillow. I fluff up the carrier, and Saoirse puts him inside. She locks it up, then turns back to me. My heart swells as she offers me a genuine smile, the first real one that indicates her happiness since I’ve forced myself back into her life.
