Page 82 of The Jealous Girl

‘But I picked up a pizza,’ I said, holding the square box up as though he needed proof.

‘Sorry,’ Ryan said, his voice muffled.

I dropped the pizza on the table. ‘I sent you a message, told you I’d be here for seven,’ I said, fishing my phone out of my pocket and pulling up the WhatsApp chat.

Ryan glanced at the screen. ‘Didn’t see it.’

‘Oh.’ My shoulders dropped. The message was still unread. Never mind, what we ate wasn’t important. The point was we were both here. Together.

I grabbed a plate and slid into the chair opposite him, as I reached for a slice of pizza.

Ryan scraped his fork against his bowl, shovelling the last remnants of his rice into his mouth and started to stand.

‘There’s plenty, if you want some?’ I said, nudging the box towards him.

‘Nah,’ he patted his stomach, ‘I’m good.’

He dropped his dish into the sink. ‘I’m going to take a shower.’

‘But—’ The word died on my lips as he walked out of the room.

I stared after him. He’d seemed irritated.

With me?

Or something else?

29

NOW

Late August

Wednesday

I was already on my second cup of coffee by the time he walked in. Laptop open in front of me, pen in hand as I ploughed through my notes, still trying to figure out what I was overlooking.

‘I wasn’t sure you’d come,’ I said, as he reached my table.

‘I almost didn’t,’ Ben replied, his tone wary, but less hostile than earlier.

‘What changed your mind?’ I asked, curiosity battling with my fear of scaring him off.

‘My mum,’ he said with a shrug. ‘She thought you sounded…’ He hesitated, as if the word was difficult for him to say. ‘Sincere.’

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. Going back to his house after my encounter with Charlotte had taken all the strength I could muster. And then he hadn’t even been home.

I tipped my head to the left. Then again, perhaps that had been a good thing. Something told me he wouldn’t have been as willing to talk to me as his mum had been.

Not that she had been happy at the prospect. She believed, as Ben did, that I’d made horrendous accusations against him. What mother would welcome a visit after that?

‘She’s usually a pretty good judge of character,’ Ben continued. ‘But then, I’d always thought I was too. Until I met you.’

I bristled. He might be here, but clearly his opinion of me hadn’t changed from this morning. He still thought I was the enemy.

‘Anyway, she thought I should hear you out.’ His lips tightened. ‘So here I am.’

‘I’m glad,’ I replied. I’d been surprised when his mum had told me to meet him at this café after his shift at the neighbouring veterinary clinic.