But it seems that I spiraled out of control, instead. I feel like Georgia is involved in this somehow. Or did I just imagine that? I remember wanting her to visit, but not wanting to actually ask her to. Then, suddenly, she walked through the door. I think that definitely happened.
I groan. Damn, I didn’t want Georgia to see me like that. I remember showing her the letter, so she’s going to know that I got in that mess all because of Polly, as though I haven’t made any progress at all since she left me.
Then I frown. It feels like there’s something else I’m forgetting. Why am I naked, anyway? Did I strip before bed? I hope I didn’t do that in front of Georgia…
An image comes to mind. Of gasps and naked bodies pressed together, of kissing Georgia’s dark skin and feeling her mouth on me…
Oh. Shit.
I shoot bolt upright in bed. My head spins but I don’t care as I fumble out of the blankets. My boxers are beside the bed and I grab them before hunting for a clean pair of pants and a shirt. Is Georgia still here? She’ll be able to confirm if I was just dreaming, or if we actually did sleep together last night.
And if it is real…then this time I need to get on bended fucking knee to apologize for taking advantage of Georgia again.
I grab my phone to look at the time. My heart sinks a second time. It’s one o’clock in the afternoon. Wasn’t I supposed to pick Georgia up at eleven?
Double fuck.
I throw open my door. Then I pause. There’s the sound of soft giggles and chatter in the kitchen. Trying to ignore my woozy head, I make my way there and stumble through the door.
“Dad!” Lily cries, and the shrill sound sends a spike of pain through my skull. I give my daughter a strained smile. She’s sitting at the table, eating some pancakes that Georgia must have made her for lunch. “Do you feel better? Georgia said you were sick!”
I look into the kitchen. Georgia is fussing with the kettle and, as I watch, she pulls down another coffee mug. She shoots me a grin over he
r shoulder.
“Coffee?” she offers.
“Yes, please,” I groan, collapsing into a seat at the table. “Georgia, did you pick Lily up?”
“Yeah… I remember you telling me yesterday morning that you were picking her up at eleven today,” Georgia explains. “So, since you were sick, I decided to pick her up instead.”
I grimace. I certainly feel sick from this hangover. I glance at Georgia again. I want to talk to her about what happened, but Lily is in the room and there’s no way I’m going to bring it up right now.
“How do you feel?” Georgia asks as she carries two cups of coffee to the table.
“Horrible,” I say bluntly.
For multiple reasons, too. First, obviously, because of my hangover. I drank way too much last night. Secondly, because I forgot about needing to pick up Lily when I decided to get that drunk.
And, thirdly, because it feels like something has happened between Georgia and me yet again, something that shouldn’t have happened.. I know, from the way Georgia is avoiding my eyes, that we really had sex last night. I don’t know what possessed me to do this to her again.
“Georgia,” I try. “Can we…?”
“We need to talk to Lily,” Georgia says firmly. “About that letter.”
I swallow, clearly hearing what she wasn’t saying. She doesn’t want to talk about this right now. I can’t blame her.
“What letter?” Lily asks, looking up from her lunch.
I draw in a deep breath. Right, let’s focus on this for now.
“Lily, yesterday I got a letter…a letter from your mother,” I say.
Lily’s spoon freezes on its way to her mouth. Her green eyes, which she inherited from Polly, go wide.
“From Mom?” she asks breathlessly.
Just like that, the tiny bit of hope I had had that Lily wouldn’t want to see Polly is dashed. I close my eyes briefly and put on a smile. This is for Lily.