The Two Week Stand (Sizzling Beach 1)

I’m staying at Aunt Jenny’s until I can get a job and a place sorted—you know, because of the whole having nowhere to live due to giving up my apartment to move in with the prick I was supposed to marry. Now, that definitely feels like eons ago. So much has happened since then. I can’t believe I even considered marrying the prick. What was I thinking? Clearly, I wasn’t.

I hear a knock on the front door. Jenny might have forgotten her key, but she hasn’t been gone that long either, and we’re not expecting anyone else.

I’ve been hiding myself away here. I’ve not even told my friends that I’m home yet. I’m just not up for peopling quite yet. Aunt Jenny told me that I made it into the local newspaper and that there was also a small segment in the nationals. I guess an unknown girl from Hull being seen with the American president’s son would make news. Thankfully, people don’t seem to know that I’m home, or if they do, they haven’t figured out where I’m staying, and as I’m not going to be seen with West anymore, the story should die a quick death.

If only my heart would. At first, I did wonder if a heart was irreparable after being broken twice in a short period of time, but it’s hanging in there, feeling all the hurt and pain and loneliness of missing West and the general shittiness that is my life. I’m just hoping this newfound anger will sort me out.

I get up from the sofa and make my way into the hallway and to the front door.

On my way there, I have these few seconds of stupidness where I think it might be West. That he’s come to see me. Even though, deep down, I know it won’t be him, my stupid heart still reaches for that notion, even with knowing I’ll be left disappointed when I find out that it’s not him.

I reach the door, push up onto my tiptoes, and look through the peephole. It’s not West.

Pain and anger hit my chest like a punch—not because of the disappointment, but because of who’s standing on the other side of the door.

I yank the door open and stare at the woman who gave me life. “What are you doing here?” I snap.

She smiles. “It’s nice to see you too, darling.”

“I know you’re not here to see Jenny, so I’m guessing you’re here to see me. How’d you know I was here?”

“I bumped into Phil at the pub last night. He said you were here. Said he saw you arriving the other day.”

Phil is Aunt Jenny’s next-door neighbor and someone my mother used to see years ago, before she got bored and tossed him aside for someone else. I should have considered that he might have seen me getting here the other day and told her. She has her fucking spies everywhere.

Still, I don’t know why she’s here. Or maybe I do.

“So, you waited until Jenny went out to stop by.”

She shrugs her slender shoulders. “I was out and happened to see her pass by in my car, heading toward the supermarket, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to come see you.”

“Ever think that I don’t want to see you?”

“Now, don’t be like that, darling.”

“You slept with my fiancé!” I yell at her. I can feel all the old hurt and anger seeping up inside of me.

“Don’t shout, Dillon. And you’re still upset about that?” She waves a hand like it was nothing. Like my feelings are nothing. “Tim and I aren’t together anymore. And honestly, sweetheart, I did you a favor. Better you knew what he was like before you tied yourself to him.”

I stare at her, flabbergasted. I shouldn’t be surprised by what she’s saying because she’s been doing it all of my life. Making herself out to be the hero in the story when she’s actually the villain. But still, it stuns me to hear her say it.

I think it’s in this moment that I realize what a true narcissist my mother actually is.

“Are you going to let me inside, or am I going to stand on the doorstep all night?”

I take a deep breath, clenching my jaw. “You slept with my fiancé. For months. Behind my back. You broke my fucking heart. I don’t see that as you doing me a favor. So, no, Mum, you’re not coming inside because I don’t want you here. I don’t want you in my life, period.”

“You want me to say I’m sorry? Fine, I’m sorry.”

“Wow.” I press my hand to my chest. “If there was a medal to be won for shittiest apology ever, you would win. Hands down.”

She huffs out a sigh, sounding irritated. “There’s no need to be sarcastic. It all worked out for the best. You went off to the Maldives and met that gorgeous man there. I mean, the president’s son, Dillon. I guess I did teach you well after all. Is he here?” She glances over my shoulder. “West, is it? Phil only said he saw you arrive but no man. But I figured you wouldn’t be leaving a guy like that alone. I know I wouldn’t.”