THIRTY-THREE
Reilly
Ilove it here, early in the morning; the sun is starting to rise, and the light is starting to shine through the window. It is still and quiet. My calm place, my zen.
I need some downtime this week, a little bit of quiet.
Mum, Dorothy and the girls have rallied around me.
They’ve seen how heartbroken I’ve been over Elton, and after seeing him last week I nearly slipped back into a world of pain.
Opening Reilly’s Bakes could not have come at a better time.
The perfect distraction, I’ve fully thrown myself into it.
I spend most mornings here, prepping, and experimenting.
Sometimes, I come here to sit and be still.
Everything is still chaotic, but I have a week to get it sorted before I open.
But it’s not the guy from the sign company. It’s a Costa employee. Why on earth is a Costa employee knocking on my door?
I crack the door open. “Delivery for Reilly.” A skinny young lad tries to pass a cup through the gap in the door.
“I didn’t order anything.”
The kid rolls his eyes. “Some guy came in first thing and told us to bring you over an oat vanilla latte and an almond croissant,” he says as if I should know what he is talking about. He peers behind me into the shop. “What’s this place going to be?”
“A bakery. What was the guy’s name?”
“I dunno. Some guy; tall, dark hair. Tips well, hence why I am here,” he says this as he not so discreetly thumbs behind his shoulder, pointing at the car idling over the road.
“Look, lady, do you want the coffee or not?” He sighs, probably not keen on being involved in this so early in the morning.
Oh, I definitely want that coffee. I’ve got my espresso machine, but I haven’t had a chance to set it up yet. It’s still in the box. Must make that a priority for today.
I grab the coffee and thank the guy before shutting the door and locking back up, peeking out through the corner of the newspaper-taped window.
Elton slides the car window down and speaks to the delivery boy, while glancing my way. I flick the paper back quickly, praying he doesn’t see me.
There’s a note on the side of the cup.
To keep you going with all these early mornings that you actually hate.
Elton x
As I take a sip of the coffee, the warmth and sweetness melt me. I do hate these mornings. I peek back outside. His car is still there. Go home, Elton. You’re wasting your time.
“This is ridiculous. He can’t sit out there all day.” I make my way back to the counter, taking a bite of the almond croissant. “Not as good as mine,” I whisper to myself.
Trying not to link the coffee and croissant to the man I’m trying to shove out of my mind, I catch the handwritten note on the back of the wrapper.
Not as good as yours
My heart swells. Such a simple bloody note turns me to complete goo for the man.
Eurgh, he’s ruining my early-morning zen time!
I shove the paper into the bin, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and dusting crumbs onto my jeans. Screw being polished and tidy, that’s not who I am.
Storming over to the door I unlock and swing it open. He’s still there. “Stupid man,” I mutter.
I crook a finger in his direction and beckon him over.
He steps out of the car slower than I would have thought. I imagined he would bolt it over the road, drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness.
But he’s methodical. Slow. He runs his hands through his hair a few times as he makes his way over to me.
His shirt is crinkled, his sleeves are rolled up, and the mess of his hair makes him deliciously dishevelled. Fuck, he’s a beautiful man.
“Reilly.” He greets me with a nod.
“Elton,” I respond back, with more of a bite.
“Did you enjoy your breakfast?”
“No pleasantries, Elton. That’s not why I called you over here.”
He shuffles his feet and pockets his hands. Nodding, he looks away, waiting for his telling off. The dark circles under his eyes and the stubble growing on his normally tidy face have my resolve waning. He’s in pain.
“I …” I’m not sure what to say. “I want …” He waits, giving me space to gather my thoughts. “Why are you here, Elton?”
“I miss you. I—”
No no no, I can’t hear it. He’ll tell me he’s sorry and that he loves me and I’ll forgive him and we’ll get back together and I’ll be that silly girl again. The girl who keeps letting people fuck up around her.
“Sorry, Elton,” I cut him off. “I can’t do this right now,” I whisper as I close the door, turning the key and locking him out.
~
“What’s going on between you and Jeeves?” I ask Thea. She’s been secretly seeing him, but she won’t admit it and sidesteps the question every time.
“What’s going on between you and Elton? Have any more little gifts been delivered?”
“Don’t answer a question with another question.”
She can’t avoid this forever. If she’s serious about Jeeves, it will be a long uphill climb for both of them. Thea’s family are super conservative and traditional. Mr-Tatted-Up-Dark-Brooding Jeeves probably isn’t going to cut it. And her family will be very, very vocal about that.
It makes me even more thankful for my little inner circle. We may be small, but we are fiercely loyal and supportive. This last month has proved that, with the amount of work they have all put in to helping me set up the bakery. As well as helping me to mend my broken heart.
There’s a knock at the door, saving Thea and me from further interrogation. Sitting on my doorstep is a huge wicker hamper basket. I lift it with a huff and thump it through to where the girls are congregating.
They both raise their eyebrows and smirk, knowing exactly who this has come from.
Hope you have a lovely girls night. You deserve it for all the hard work you all have put in recently. I’m so proud of you.
- Elton
“Well, either Elton has turned stalker on me, or someone has been keeping a certain right-hand man up to date with her schedule.”
“Sometimes, we bump into each other.”
“Yea Reilly, you’re not the only one with a persistent admirer,” Sarah quips as Thea blushes at the insinuation.
Sarah jumps straight in and flips open the hamper.
A selection of penny sweets. All the classics: gummy hearts, cola bottles, fizzy laces.
A pack of marshmallows. Maltesers, cans of Diet Coke and Lemon Fanta.
And the necessary three bottles of Prosecco.
As well as the essential pamper kit: sheet masks, luxury moisturisers, a whole new Temple Spa skincare routine and three gorgeous sets of White Company slippers.
But there’s a pang of disappointment that comes with it. There’s no Elton. If his plan is for me to crave his presence, it’s working.
I want him here, cuddled next to me. Laughing with me. Just being near me. I want him. All of him.
How do I ask him to leave me alone when really I want him to stay?
“I can’t forgive him though, it’s not right?” I say, flipping the lip closed on the box.
“Says who?” Sarah asks, reopening the hamper and unloading its contents.
That makes me jolt. Shit, is she right?
“But I shouldn’t forgive him, should I? He shut me out, the minute things got hard he ran away.”
“I’m just saying he made a stupid decision in a traumatic situation.
Yes, he shut you out, but now you’re shutting him out without giving him the space to explain himself.
” I wouldn’t expect Sarah to be fighting for me and Elton, it would be more Thea’s stance on things.
“Look, in the beginning I was all for ‘fuck off, Elton’. I hated seeing you hurt. But let’s be honest, I’m quick to anger.
Thinking about what happened and when I think back on you together …
” She looks away and shakes her head, as if she can’t believe the words coming out of her mouth.
“You had something real. Not many people can say that. You’ve both reacted badly to things.
You’re letting old wounds cloud your judgement. ”
Thea nods sympathetically at me in agreement. “Don’t think about what you should do. What do you want to do?”
What I want to do is go back in time and not let things get so messy.
I hate not making the right decision. I’ve let myself be swayed easily in the past, and now I’m second-guessing myself.
But my friends are right: I shut down as quickly as he did. My anger at him ran full pelt through me, but now that anger is receding, maybe it’s time to listen.
Elton
A smile crosses my face as I get the notification that my package has been delivered. I wish I had been there.
Jeeves clears his throat to bring me out of my thoughts. “We’ve still got eyes on the ex. He’s stayed away and seems to be keeping to himself. There’s no evidence he was involved in the attack on Neive. Despite the timing being suspicious, there is no connection.”
I nod. This is good news. I wanted to hunt him down and teach him a lesson in respect.
But Reilly would find out, and she’s a softy at heart.
She told me to leave him, so I did. Hopefully, another point to prove how serious I am about giving her what she wants and needs.
It’s a complete coincidence that his latest company investment crashed hard when the company was bought out from underneath him.
So he’s rather busy salvaging that at the moment.
Which doesn’t mean he’ll leave my radar.
He’ll stay away, and if he doesn’t, then my team will focus on Reilly’s needs, whether she knows about it or not.
Two days until the bakery opens. Two more days to implant myself in Reilly’s brain before I make my move to remind her we belong together.
I wait for the thank you text from Reilly. The only communication we have at the moment.
Every gift has been thoroughly thought out.
My desire to shower her with everything I could possibly throw her way is strong.
But I’m taking her mum’s advice and making a big impact with small gestures.
I pray it’s working. I need it to work. So many aspects of my life have fallen into place except one.
And none of it is worth it if I don’t have Reilly.
My phone vibrates on the table, and although it’s not Reilly, my chest lightens at Neive’s face, which pops up on the screen.
“Good evening, Neive. You’re up late.”
“Uncle Elton, I’ve finished unpacking and wanted to show you my completed colour-coded wardrobe.”
These daily video calls from Neive have been a godsend since she moved out and into her apartment with her mum.
I set them up in a three-bed penthouse overlooking the sea.
It has a huge wrap-around balcony and enough space for them both to have their alone time.
The family therapy continues, and their relationship is looking on the up.
I’ll step in the minute it’s required, but I’m giving them the space to reframe themselves as they need.
It’s only a few streets along, but I miss having her around.
The house is quiet. Claire is getting antsy with the lightened workload.
She hovers about, mothering over me and moaning about the lack of family in the home.
One day, Reilly and I will fill the house with kids to keep her busy.
But for now, she’ll have to make do with just me.
And Jeeves’s prolonged visits; he’s hanging around a bit more.
He thinks I’m lonely. I am. I need Reilly back.
“Come over tomorrow, kid. I want to give Reilly a special surprise, and I need your help.”
“Oh my god. Yes. I am there. Are you back together yet? You apologised, right?”
“Yes, I …” Wait, did I?
“Uncle Elton, you apologised to Reilly, right?” Neive asks slowly, like I need it spelling out for me. Because I apparently fucking do. I’ve told her I miss her, I’ve sent her gifts, but I haven’t actually said the words. She doesn’t actually know how sorry I am.