Chapter 22

And there it was like a slap in the face, a sobering bucket of ice thrown over a moderately drunk person. A kick off a ledge. Heart plummet, face tightening, and brain crashing back to reality very undignifiedly.

“Right.” Her voice was now lacklustre. She scooped herself up from her patio seat and led the way inside. No longer ultra-sensitive to his heat behind her in the small hall. Closed up and prickly. That sinking thud of heaviness returned. Nothing killed an overzealous libido like a man mentioning his girlfriend.

He briefly outlined the plan for tomorrow, seemingly oblivious to the change in her mood or the loss of sparkle in her eyes. She made all the right noises and agreements, and even his closeness to her was doing nothing to lift that heavy pit in her stomach. She felt like hitting him with his stupid sander and bag of tools.

“Right… Tomorrow.” She sounded tired and deflated, although he didn’t seem to notice.

Why would he?

He moved