And that’s what decides it.
Grabbing the pencils and a sketchbook, I carry them over to the dining room table and set them there as a reminder for later. It’ll mean some late nights, but Ronan’s worth it. Especially after everything he’s given to me.
I know he’s supposed to be in a meeting with his teammates—he left just after nine for a meeting at nine-fifteen—but I can’t resist sending him a quick message.
Just wanted to say hi. I miss you already. Can’t wait to see you later.
I’m not expecting him to reply right away, so I set the phone on the table beside the pencils and head into the kitchen for a drink of water. I’m just reaching into the cupboard for a glass when my phone sounds a strident alert. It startles me so badly I yip in surprise and almost knock the entire row of glasses over.
It’s only the mailman,I assure myself as I hurry to grab my phone. That’s why the motion detector went off. Or it’s the delivery guy. There are plenty of reasons why someone might come to my door in the middle of the morning. And most of them are perfectly innocent.
But can I really be blamed for being a little jumpy, considering?
On the heels of the alert, my doorbell chimes. Then three light knocks on the front door follow.
“Hang on!” I call out. But I have no intention of opening the door without looking first. So I snatch up my phone and tap the video preview to expand it.
At first, I have no idea who it is. But then again, it’s hard to tell since the woman—I’m almost positive it’s a woman—is holding a giant poinsettia that hides part of her face.
A neighbor, possibly? A well-meaning local who heard about the break-in and wanted to do something nice?
Or, as she lowers the poinsettia so I can see her face better, someone I wasnotexpecting to see.
Sharon.
Justin’s mom.
My stomach twists. Why is she here?
Part of me wants to ignore her. Wait until she gives up and leaves.
But she didn’t do anything wrong,I remind myself. Yes, Justin’s a jerk, and that could be partially laid at her feet. But it’s possible she never knew what he did to me.
Still. She knows Justin was a suspect in the break-in, which she can’t have been happy about.
As I stand beside the dining room table, debating, the doorbell rings again.
Crap. I really should answer it. It would be rude not to. And if it’s weird and uncomfortable, I have to leave for work soon, anyway. So at least it’ll be a short conversation.
With a puffed breath, I set the phone back down and head to the door. Before I open it, I work my features into a politely neutral expression, rather than the disdain I feel whenever I have to think of anyone or anything associated with Justin.
“Angel,” she says once I open the door. She flashes me a quick smile as she thrusts the poinsettia towards me. “Happy holidays.”
I take the plant and shift it to one arm. “Hi. Um.”
“Sharon.” Her gaze skims over me. “Henderson. Justin’s mother.”
“I know.” My pulse skitters. “I met you once. In college.”
“I remember,” she replies. “I was always sorry things didn’t work out between you and Justin. But—” She shakes her head. “He wasn’t terribly mature back then. As I’m sure you know.”
“Well.” I’m not sure what to say.Yes, I know exactly how immature he was, since he ditched me and my unborn child?
“He told me about Haley,” Sharon says. She looks over my shoulder and into the room. “Is she here?”
“No.” It’s quick. Instinctive. And I’m glad it’s true. “She’s with a friend.”
“Oh. Okay.” Her smile dips briefly. “Well, I suppose that’s probably better, anyway. But I was wondering if we could talk?”