Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
FLORA
The day whizzes by. George stays until just after lunchtime; it was nice to have him with me and Delilah whilst we ate and he spoke to me about his life and how much he dotes on his niece.
George kisses her on the top of her head and then gives me a warm smile.
“I’ll see you soon,” he smiles softly then disappears out the front door and now it’s just me and her.
Letting my face lower, her eyes lift to mine at the same time.
“Now what?” I smirk and she grabs onto my finger and tugs me upstairs. “Where we going?” I laugh softly as I follow.
“To show you my room,” she pauses on the step and gives me a wide smile.
“Lead the way,” I nod as she unclasps her fingers.
Loitering outside the main bedroom, I try and give it a quick scope but Delilah is back to tugging me.
Walking down a narrow hallway, she leads me into a large room at the back of the house and I swear her bedroom is the size of my apartment.
Three quarter panelled walls in greige and creams wrap around the room that is smothered in toys, accessories, tents and a pretty pink bed canopy. It was the most perfect space for such a perfect little girl.
An ache radiates through my chest at how different my childhood was, but then realisation settles deep inside of me. She lost her mum too .
“Wow, Delilah,” I breathe as I step onto the lush carpet. “This is the most beautiful room,” I smile at her and she waves me in further.
I do, cautiously.
Stepping forward she leads me into her pretty white teepee that is surrounded and wrapped in fairy lights.
She lays on pillows and I lay next to her.
We don’t speak, we just lay and I look up at the pictures that are pinned to the ceiling and my eyes settle on the one of Edward and a pretty blonde, a spitting image of Delilah.
“That’s my mummy,” she says softly, a smile on her face as I roll my head to look at her. “She’s an angel, she lives in her castle in the sky,” and my throat thickens, eyes sting.
“So is my mummy,” I whisper as a tear escapes and she rolls on her side, her little brows furrow as she presses her finger on my tear.
“Do you miss her?” I twist on my side and watch this beautiful little soul in front of me.
“Everyday.”
“Me too,” she sighs and rolls on her back as her fingers find mine and I never want to let her go.
How can this sweet little angel have me wrapped around her so tightly when I’ve only known her for a matter of hours.
Silence creeps around the room and after what feels like hours, I sigh.
“Shall we play barbies?” I give her a grin and excitement seeps from her as she jumps up, squealing as she runs for her dream house.
And just like that, all sadness is gone.
Not forgotten. Just tucked a little deeper inside my heart than before.
The rest of the afternoon flew by and after three stories and two toilet trips, Delilah was settled and snuggled into bed. Pulling the door to, I feel dead on my feet. I walk slowly downstairs just as Edward walks in.
“Flora,” he smiles, closing the door softly behind him.
“Edward,” I give a curt nod as I continue down the stairs and towards the kitchen that runs across the back of the townhouse.
“How was your day?” I ask as I fill the kettle and pop it on to boil.
“Busy,” he groans, flopping onto the stool. I study him for a moment. Soft creases wrinkle at the corner of his eyes, his lips a little dry, eyes tired. “You?” he asks, looking around the tidy room.
“I had the best day,” and I smile without realising.
“Yeah?”
“Delilah is a precious soul,” I nod.
“She really is,” a heavy sigh vibrates through him.
His eyes burn into mine, the way his lips are parting and closing has me lingering a little longer to see if he’ll say anything, but he doesn’t.
I break our gaze by turning and making him a tea.
“Strong, no sugar right?” I memorized the way he made it this morning with a dash of milk.
“Right,” his voice is tight. Stirring his tea, I waltz over to him and place it on the breakfast bar.
“Your dinner is in the oven, plated up. Butter chicken and rice,” I step back.
“Delilah ate that?”
“Every last piece,” I hum as I busy myself.
“Well,” I see the way his brows raise in surprise.
“Laundry is just out the dryer and folded, I’ll get to the whites tomorrow.”
“Do you have to rush off?” he says just as I disappear into the hallway.
“Erm…” I spin and glance at the clock. It’s just past eight. Travis is working late. “No,” I breathe.
“Come sit with me,” he pats the stool next to him and I walk over a little hesitant, but I have no idea why.
He doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable, but maybe that’s the problem? Maybe I was so prepared for him to be an asshole that now I’ve seen that he isn’t, it makes me a little more cautious.
I sit, my eyes on him as he studies my face.
“Travis never talks about you,” he says, his voice low but it’s not vicious or vindictive. The sad truth is I believe him.
“Doesn’t surprise me,” I whisper, dropping my head.
“Don’t do that,” he says softly, “don’t pull your eyes from mine.” I inhale sharply as I slowly lift my face, eyes penetrating into his. “Explain,” he tilts his head.
“Explain what?” I furrow my brow.
“Why you said it doesn’t surprise you,” he shuffles his stool closer to me and my breath catches at the back of my throat.
“Travis made it very clear from the get go that work would always come before me…” I pause as I watch his facial expression change, a tightening of his jaw, the way his fingers are curling then flexing, his eyes narrow on my lips.
“Why do you stay?”
And suddenly this feels a little too personal.
I turn my face to look at the clock before my eyes are back on Edward.
“I better be going…” I slip off the stool and mask my face from him as I rush down towards the front door and grab my bag from the side.
The sound of his footsteps approaching has my skin prickling, his fingers wrap around my wrist as he tugs me to look at him.
“You deserve the world, Flora,” he pauses, the fingers that were once on my skin now run down the side of his head and through his thick blond hair, “and he isn’t going to be the one to give it to you.”
His eyes volley back and forth between mine, my heart is pounding in my chest.
I slip backwards, my back hitting the door behind me. He steps closer, one hand pressed on the door, the other glides forward as he grips my chin so I have no other choice but to look at him.
“I can,” he whispers, “I can give you everything.”
My breath catches at the back of my throat as he leans closer. Our lips inches apart and just as they’re about to touch, Delilah’s sobs rattle through the house as she calls for her daddy.
He lowers his head before stepping away and before he can even breathe another word, I slip out the front door and into the waiting car.
My heart is thrashing, blood pounding, but I wanted it.
Shame marks my skin as we start our drive home, but selfishly, I can’t wait to go back.