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“I didn’t mean it like that, I was just explaining to Jeremy,” I placate gently. My hackles are up. Moments ago, I was relaxed, in a stupor on my sofa, and now, I'm riled.
Jeremy senses my mental overload and steps forward. “Jeremy.” He shakes my mother’s hand. Marcus steps towards me and puts his hand on my lower back. My eyes widen, and I twist to Emily, who pulls her blanket up, covering her face. Traitor.
“Marcus.”
“Pleasure.” Jeremy steps back, giving me a quizzical look. I move out of Marcus’s hold to take the bags. “I will take these,” Jeremy says, pulling them away. “Go, relax on the sofa. I'll sort it all out.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that, Jeremy.” I say, cheeks bright red.
“I know. Holly, you look beat. Relax, let me sort this out. You’ve got your hands full so go sit down.” He tugs the bags out of my hands and smiles cheekily at me. Was that a dig at mymother? If so, I need to high five this man. I bite my lip from smiling and relax a little.
Half an hour later, we are squashed into my living room; Beau is doodling on her water mat while Marcus is staring at Jeremy with open dislike. “So, Jeremy, how long have you known Holly?” he asks over his cup. My mum is sitting beside him and twists, giving him a supportive smile.
“We went to school, actually. We recently reconnected, and after yesterday, I offered to bring breakfast.” He winks at me, and I smile. He’s as kind as he was when we were teenagers.
“And what exactly happened yesterday?” my mother queries.
“Oh, a simple misunderstanding,” Emily chimes in this time. “I was accidentally knocked over. Jeremy drove me to the hospital,” she explains and then lifts her cup to cut off any further questioning.
“Beau alluded to it being more than that,” she quips.
“Beau is also five,” I say. “It was an accident. We got in late. Beau was up during the night, so we are tired and decided after a hectic week to have a quiet day.” I keep my tone light, but my mother senses the irritation in me.
“Okay, dear. No need to get so prickly.” She tuts at Marcus, who looks less than pleased with me too. Jesus, what is this?
My shoulder sag, and Emily rubs my back in support. I love my mother with every fibre. I do, but it takes a lot to deal with her. She is insufferable and demanding.
“I can go home,” Emily suggests quietly. I shake my head.
“I'm going to go get dressed,” I say, desperate to get away and gather my thoughts.
Leaving everyone downstairs, I rush into my room and rub my eyes. The last thing I needed today was to be controlled at every possible turn. I filter through my wardrobe and find jeans and a plain tee. Shrugging my dressing gown off, I choose some underwear as Marcus comes into my room. I grab the nearestdecorative pillow to cover myself with. “Marcus, what are you doing? I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Why are you hiding? You didn’t seem to mind being in your sleepwear in front of Jeremy.” He frowns and moves into my room further. He looks at the plain décor and scrunches his nose.
“I was in a robe. Get out!” I snap.
“What's going on with you?” He comes over to me and rubs my arms. I sigh deeply and lift my head with what little patience I have left.
“I am standing in my underwear.Please leave,” I grate.
Blinking, he seems to come to his senses, and with a muddled nod, he walks out. “I’ll wait here.” The door shuts, and I sag into the chair. I know my mother has been filling his head with ideas of him and I being more than friends.
I dress quickly and scoop my hair up into a big bun. Marcus is where he said he would be, outside the door. “Marcus, I appreciate we are friends, but I’d prefer you not to let yourself into my bedroom.” His cheeks taint a light pink, and I congratulate myself on laying out boundaries with him. I will have to if he is trying to place himself more securely in my life.
“Of course, sorry.” Cam wouldn’t do that. He'd tell me if he wanted to come into my room, he damn well would. I have no idea where the thought comes from, but it knocks me off guard. Marcus is so formal. He is a good friend and kind, but being back in Richmond has worked as a reminder of how lifeless my life was before now. Marcus and my mother are narrow-minded and snooty. They pick fault where they deem it. They patronise and belittle.
“Look, I feel I need to address something. My mother has made a few comments and I just want to smooth things out, clear the air,” I begin.
“Address away.” He smiles and straightens my hair. I tug away and his hand drops to his front.
“She has suggested that you and I are more than friends.”
“Aren’t we? We’ve been through so much together; we love one another as closely as family. I'm here for Beau,” Marcus says, and I shrink inwardly. He thinks this is more than friendship? God, does he assume we are dating?
I hum awkwardly. “Well, I just class that as a friend. A friend of the family,” I tell him gently. “I never really viewed our friendship as anything more. I'm sorry if I led you to believe otherwise.” I give him a sympathetic smile.
“Is this because of Jeremy?” he mutters, looking pissed off. He shoves his hands into his trouser pockets and stares at his feet.
