Page 44 of The Suitcase Swap

Noah: I think Mike’s primary concern is that he wants to make out.

Rahul: Not you, too. I’m taking away your Netflix. You’ve been watching too much American telly.

Noah: Get cultured, you swine.

Amaya: Ha! Noah’s on my side!

‘Everything okay?’ Sophie asked.

‘Yes,’ Mike said. ‘Apologies. Catching up with the kids really quickly.’

‘It’s good you’re so close to them.’ She fetched the tomatoes from the counter and gave them a good rinse.

‘Sometimes I think we’re a little too close,’ Mike muttered. Another text appeared on his screen.

Amaya: Deep breaths, Dad. Relax and enjoy your tea.

Rahul: And if you feel like kissing her, go for it.

Mike couldn’t deny that he did, in fact, want to do just that. Had wanted to since he’d fucked things up so badly the first time. He’d tried to not think about it but kept finding himself going back to the memory. The feel of her. The taste. The soft sound she’d made when he’d— He shook his head sharply, like he was trying to clear it.I don’t think that would be fair to her.

Noah: Sometimes life isn’t fair. People aren’t fair. We make mistakes. Isn’t it possible you made one when you decided to just be friends?

Mike didn’t have an answer to that. He found the idea troubling.

Rahul: My husband is a wise man. You should listen to him.

Unsure what to say to that, Mike tapped a thumbs-up reaction to it and put away his phone. Then he went to wash his hands, throwing Sophie a tight smile. ‘I didn’t mean to leave you to it. Point me towards the knives and I’ll start slicing cheese.’

After a round of cheese and tomato sandwiches and a cup of tea that wasn’t even slightly blue, Mike did the washing-up. To be fair, the dishes were minimal, but he felt it was the least he could do after abandoning Sophie to the lion’s share of the tea prep.

Sophie watched him, her chin resting on her fist. Mike realized with a shock that he liked her watching him.

He peeked back at her. ‘Making sure I don’t miss a bit?’

She shook her head, the movement minimal and slow. ‘Just taking a moment to appreciate a man doing dishes. Or any housework really. You should be commended.’

Mike scoffed. ‘Commended? My kids would refer to it as the lowest of bars.’ He shot her a look. ‘I take it your ex didn’t pitch in around the house?’

‘Not unless it involved a power tool.’

Mike hesitated, unsure whether his next question would be an overstep. ‘What about your son?’

Sophie barked a laugh. ‘Much to Andrew’s disappointment, Tom was never really into power tools and all that. He was more my little buddy around the house, growing up. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t like the young men I met at uni who couldn’t wash their own socks or cook anything more complicated than frozen pizza.’

Mike thought he’d done well enough there – his son could cook better than he could. ‘Were you successful?’

She stared thoughtfully at the ceiling for a moment. ‘He met Marisa in a cooking class, so I think whatever I didn’t manage to teach him, he’s picked up on his own.’

Mike rinsed the last dish, slotting it into the rack to dry. ‘You gave him enough to continue on, then.’

‘How about your kids?’

‘Rahul is a chef normally, though he’s home with Archie for a little while yet. Even when he goes back, he’ll cut back on the longer hours because of the kids. I’d love to claim he got his culinary skills from me, but my cooking ability is mediocre at best and Tara’s was better, but she didn’t enjoy doing it often, much to her mother’s chagrin. Especially if she was busy at work. Rahul probably learned out of self-defence.’ He felt asudden pang of loss, but it was a gentle one, more of a nudge than a dagger. ‘He learned a lot from Tara’s parents.’

Sophie smiled at this, as if charmed. ‘What about your daughter?’

‘Oh, Amaya would be perfectly capable in the kitchen if she had any inclination to be. But she relies on takeaways and frequent meals at her brother’s house.’ He dried his hands, turning around to face Sophie.

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