Page 9 of One Week With You
Rafe huffed a laugh through his nose, soft and soundless. His gaze travelled all over my face, like he was memorising every detail, though that didn’t seem possible. “It’s good to see you,” he admitted a beat later, and the warmth of it flooded fizzy joy into my veins.
“Ditto,” I said with a smile.
Our eyes met and held.
The last time I’d seen Rafe was after I’d announced my new relationship with Michael at one of my family’s Sunday lunches, five months ago now. I often wondered if that meant anything, whether he was jealous or couldn’t bear to see me with another man, but that was wishful thinking. Rafe was a busy man and probably felt the same as my brothers: annoyed I was settling yet again for someone who wasn’t right for me.
Story of my life.
Rafe looked away first, clearing his throat. “So,” he started as we made our way down the path. “How are you today?”
Now that was a question.
“I’m… okay.” I forced a smile. “You know me. Plodding along.”
He watched me closely. “You don’t remember, do you?”
“Remember what?”
“Calling me on Friday.”
I halted on the path.Oh my god.Friday night wasn’t just a blur, it was no longer part of my memory. I’d left the bar safely and halfway to sober, but everything after that? Gone. The only indication I’d spent the night drowning my sorrows were the two empty bottles of wine I’d dumped in the recycling bin the next morning, the dull ache blooming across the back of my head. I’d also slept with one arm still in my dress, presumably having wrestled enough with the zip trawling my spine.Disaster.
I’d barely recovered, even now.
“I embarrassed myself, didn’t I?” I scrunched my eyes closed for a second. “I suppose the upside is I don’t remember, so that’s something.”
Rafe chuckled. “You called yourself a worker bee. Why did you think I called you that?”
“No idea.” My cheeks heated thinking about what else I might have said.Oh god.“Can you have second-hand embarrassment about yourself? Is that a thing?”
“I don’t know. You were pretty adorable, if you ask me.”
Adorable? Just what I wanted to be called by the man I longed to climb like a tree. “That’s not helping,” I said with a groan, covering my face with one hand.
“Seriously though, I was sorry to hear you lost your job. We didn’t get a chance to discuss it properly, but if they didn’t give you a reason, I think you have a real case for unfair dismissal.”
“Oh.” I scraped my fingertips roughly across my forehead. “I fully unloaded on you, huh?”
“I didn’t mind.”
“Either way, it won’t happen again. But thanks.”
“Talia,” he said, tugging on my wrist as I started to walk away, and I looked down, both startled by the alien sensation and delighted by it. “It’s going to be okay, you know.”
I shook my head, then dropped my gaze to his boots. His voice was too soft, too kind, and I was a shiver away from crying. “You don’t know that.”
“But I know you.”
He gave me one last squeeze before heading into the house, and I stared at my fingers, wondering how long the imprint of his touch would last this time.
* * *
As the rich scent of roast beef drifted above our steaming plates, my mum wandered into the dining room sporting her favourite festive Minnie Mouse apron and set the china gravy boat on the table. Her short, greying hair was fastened into a stubby ponytail, her hairstyle of choice when cooking over a hot stove, and she took a moment to fan her flushed face with a tea towel before throwing it over one shoulder.
“Now that I have all of my children here,” she announced, holding up her empty glass in Leo’s direction. “I’d like to talk about Christmas.”
A joint groan of varying octaves swept across the table.
