Page 42 of The Me I Left Behind

Lilly picked up her fork. “This looks yummy. Good choice.”

“Lilly?”

She looked up. “What?”

“Max has children? You never mentioned that before.”

“Oh, yes. Sorry. A daughter.”

“How lovely. A built-in family.”

Lilly took a bite. “She’s almost eighteen, so pretty much on her own.”

Freya stayed quiet for a moment.

Lilly kept eating. The curry was quite good.

“Eighteen. That’s just….”

She met Freya’s gaze. “Yes, she’s just seven years younger than me. Max is forty-six, Freya. He’s divorced, so this will be his second marriage.”

Freya looked a little stunned, Lilly thought, lips thinned out and eyes probing….

“Marriage?” she said. “Are you getting married?”

Lilly thrust out her left hand and showed her the diamond ring. “He proposed last weekend, right before he went to Melbourne.”

Getting home laterthan she’d planned, Lilly walked with Poppy to the ferry slip, pushing baby Leo in his pram. While the sun wouldn’t set for a few hours, she didn’t want Poppy to feel uncomfortable on the walk.

“Are you sure you can get home alright? I know you are not fond of crowds.”

Poppy waved her off. “Shew. I’m fine. The ferry isn’t crowded heading into the city this time of day, and the bus ride isn’t long. It’s a short walk from there to my flat.”

“I could come with you.”

Poppy gave her a look—one that said she was stepping over the line. She’d seen that look often when Poppy cared for her when she was younger. “I am fine. Now, little Leo will be ready to feed again soon, so you get on with it.”

Lilly leaned in to give her a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Be safe. See you on Thursday.”

“Yes.” Poppy nodded, then headed for the boat.

She took the long route back home, enjoying the sun and their leisurely stroll. By the time she made it back to her street, Leo started fussing. She hustled them both into the house and upstairs, where she quickly changed him, then took him out back to the deck with a bottle.

She’d wanted to breastfeed, but Max had talked her out of it. She was young, he said, and of course she wanted to keep her breasts firm and perky. Right? Not saggy and limp, like he’d said his ex-wife’s had gotten after breastfeeding.

She thought back to that conversation. He’d played to her vulnerability—her body image—and she’d fallen smack into the center of that dysfunctional notion and agreed with him.

Of course she wanted to remain attractive to him. And she wanted to look nice while working. It was expected in her field. But did the drop of her breasts sully her value as a woman, or a wife, or even a top-selling real estate agent?

No, it didn’t. And right now, what Max didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Staring down into little Leo’s face, she traced the edge of his cheek with her forefinger. Such a little miracle child. He fussed against her chest, obviously hungry and ready to eat. She glanced at the bottle, then unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt, lowered one shoulder and her bra cup, and positioned baby Leo closer to her breast. Guiding her nipple with two fingers, he eagerly latched on and began suckling. A contented sigh sneaked up on her then, and she let go of the long-held breath.

Smiling, her heartbeat kicked up, as she watched him gently suckle, his eyes closed, his expression intent on his feeding. How could she have passed up this beautiful experience?

Her cell phone vibrated on the small table next to her. She picked it up.

A text from Max:Good time for a call?

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