I nudge Willow gently. “Time for bed, sweetheart.”
She doesn’t argue, bless her. Just rubs her eyes and mumbles something about Mummy and Daddy.
I hush her with a soft, “They’re not home yet.”
As I tuck her in, I can feel the jealousy crawling under my skin. What are they doing right now? Where are they touching? What are they whispering across the table in that pathetic language only lovers understand? When will he see it’s all wrong?
That she isn’t the one he belongs with?
The baby monitor crackles. Emmett’s making tiny whining noises, tossing his arms like he’s startled himself out of sleep.
I go to him at once, cradling him in my arms the way only his mother can.
“Hello, beautiful boy,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Are you hungry?”
There’s plenty of her pumped milk in the fridge, but something about offering himthatfeels wrong. As though I’m just filling in. But I’m not. I’m going to be more than that.
I settle into the chair she uses, gently unfastening my blouse. The air feels cool against my skin, but I don’t shiver. I’ve practiced for this. I’ve done the courses and used the pumps. Iknewone day this moment would come again.
I offer him my breast, my fingers trembling slightly.
“Go on,” I whisper. “It’s alright. I know I’m not your mum… but I will be soon. I promise I taste even better.”
But Emmett recoils, turning his head. His little body twists in my arms like he’s trying to escape me. His face scrunches up, lip trembling, and that sound starts. The low whine that means a serious crying spell is on the way.
Frustration floods me. My jaw clenches so hard it hurts. For a flicker of a second, I see myself doing something I shouldn’t. Something I’d regret.
I breathe through it, inhaling and exhaling steady breaths.
“It’s alright,” I coo, forcing my voice to go syrupy. “You’re just not used to me yet. You will be. I’ll go get your bottle, yeah?”
He takes that in greedy little gulps. He finishes nearly all of it and then he’s off to sleep again, his face angelic, his lashes fluttering.
I stay awake downstairs.
The telly’s on mute, just a dull blue flicker casting shadows across the room. The rest of the house is silent. I sit like a ghost, counting each minute they’re gone, jealousy curling tighter inside me with every passing hour. It’s my fault for telling them to go out. Iencouragedit.
What a stupid, selfless thing to do. And now they’re out there… together.
Kissing. Laughing. Loving.
That should’ve beenournight.
I hear the car pull into the drive and my stomach tightens. I toss off my glasses and pull the blanket over me, settling in like I’ve been asleep for hours.
They come bursting in like giddy school kids, all flushed with rumpled coats. Declan’s tugging on her hand, both of them laughing under their breath. Amerie’s tipsy—her laugh is too loud, her gait too clumsy—and Declan looks just as gone. They pass the sitting room, poking their heads in to check on me.
I don’t move, holding my breath in.
They assume I’m fast asleep and move on, heading upstairs to peek in on the children.
The second I hear their footsteps fade, I’m up. The blanket drops from my shoulders and I creep across the room in the dark, as silent as possible. I climb halfway up the stairs, gripping the cool banister, listening.
They check on both children, just like always. Then they go into their bedroom, forgetting to lock the door.
I know this because I don’t hear the click. And that means I can still get in.
It’s none of my business, of course. I’d never dare interfere. Not in any overt way.
