Her sweet little laugh is contagious. Something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I falter in my step, almost releasing Anna.
“Whoa, are you all right?”
I blink, trying to collect my thoughts. “Yes, yes. Sorry.” I bring my eyes away from the woman standing by the tree in the distance, staring directly at us.
A hand presses against my shoulder. “Bridget, what’s wrong?”
Why is she here? Is she following me? “It’s nothing.”
“Daddy, look! A squirrel!”
I excuse myself and walk toward Diane. “Mrs. Taylor, what are you doing here?”
“Just admiring your new perfect life.” Her comment irritates me. I look back to find Jonathon and Anna focused on the animal and face back toward her.
“Well…you saw it. Now, leave me alone.”
“That was the problem, wasn’t it? You wanted my son’s money. You were jealous he didn’t give you any—that he gave it to me instead?”
“Like I said before, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She takes a step forward and jabs her finger at me. “He wouldn’t give you money, so you got him killed. You did this—”
“Shhh…” I snap, hissing at her raised voice.
“Does your new lover know you’re a murderer? That you’re using him for his money?”
“Will you quiet down? He’s not my lover. And I didn’t kill—”
“Murderer!”
I step closer, ready to cover her mouth, when Jonathon’s deep voice sounds behind me.
“Is there a problem here?” Jonathon asks stepping up beside me.
“No problem,” Mrs. Taylor says, wearing a nasty sneer. “Just chatting with an old friend.”
Mrs. Taylor stares at me, waiting for my next move. Finally, I force a smile and reply. “She’s an old neighbor.”
She holds his stare, but her eyes speak a different tune. Hatred. “I’ll just leave you two lovebirds to it.” Jonathon doesn’t correct her, and neither do I. “Always a pleasure seeing you, Bridget.” She walks away, disappearing into the busy park. I’m too shaken to say anything, and Jonathon doesn’t pry as he escorts us back to the car.
“Are you okay?” he asks as we drive home.
I snap out of my haze. “Yes. Fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
I’m not. “I am. I’m sorry. I’m not sure why she was there. Coincidence, I guess.”
He turns to me, his gaze sincere. “Bridget, when will you realize you don’t have to apologize to me?”
“I know. I’m so—Okay.”
Anna starts chattering, and the topic is dropped. When we arrive at his estate, Jonathon excuses himself to take a work call and I help Anna upstairs and give her a bath. The distraction doesn’t lessen the tightness in my chest. I clench my hands into fists, willing them to stop shaking. Diane is right. I am a killer. While she’s suffering, I’m learning how to fall in love again. One thing I can’t keep pretending I’m not doing with Chase. And I’m not sure how that makes me feel. Awful. Hopeful. Guilty.
I should end things with Chase. He doesn’t deserve all my baggage. But the thought of never seeing him again. Being with him. It hurts even more.
I go through the nightly routine and wave to Jonathon, who’s in his office on a work call, that I’m leaving for the night. Instead of heading to the guesthouse, I order an Uber. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I do know that seeing him will help give me the answers I need.
I bite at my fingernails the entire Uber ride. It feels like eons before I’m raising my fist to Chase’s door. A minute or two passes, and I worry he’s not home. I knock again, and still nothing. My shoulders slump in defeat. Maybe this is my sign. There’s a heaviness in my chest and I try to conceal my disappointment as I turn to leave.
Chase
I step out of the shower and dry off. Even after standing under the steaming hot spray, my arms still ache from the long day of work. I toss my towel over the rack when I hear knocking on my door. I lean outside the bathroom door and check the time. “What is Ben doing here now?” This isn’t his normal drop-in time. I’m really not feeling like entertaining his ass and was hoping to call Bridget and talk her into some phone sex. Shit, I’ll settle for dirty text messages. I’ve missed her like crazy all day.
Get rid of Ben. Then call my girl.
I slide into a pair of ripped jeans, not bothering to even zip them up. “Dude, coming. Chill out.” I open the door, shocked to see Bridget walking away. “Bridge.” She stalls in her step and turns around. Her eyes are tight and filled with worry. “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming. You okay—”
She runs up to me and I catch her as she jumps into my arms. “I need you to kiss me. Show me this is right.”