Page 95 of The Me I Left Behind

The man had an exceptionally long wait—Maxdidn’t come home. Lilly could only assume he had stayed at the condo.

So be it.

He didn’t call or text her.

She didn’t call or text him.

This had happened once before. She’d angered him for some reason she’d now forgotten, and he’d stayed at the condo for two nights. Her punishment for not being a good girl?

Well, bullcrap. She’d have none of that. She might only be in her twenties, but she’d lived enough life to know that she didn’t want to be bossed around, or manipulated, by a man. Especially one who professed to love her.

She’d seen enough of that at Min Min Station growing up—but she didn’t have to live that kind of life—and she wouldn’t.

When she’d gone to bed, the ute was still parked across the street. When she got up, it was gone. Admittedly, she was relieved, because if he were still there come morning, she’d have to call the police before Poppy arrived.

No way would she leave Poppy and Leo alone with that man outside.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to worry.

Now, as she stood leaning against the railing on the ferry, crossing over to Brisbane, she let her mind wander over the past twenty-four hours. The man in the ute had unnerved her, to be certain, but even more, Max’s actions earlier in the day had caused the tide to turn inside her.

She no longer wished to be the woman hanging on a string, waiting for him to come home and dangle pretties before her, enticing her…luring her…into his arms and his bed.

His anger had soured that. Her fear of him had soured that, as well.

And if that was the way it would be with him? If that was his expectation of what their life would look like together? Then she wanted none of it.

She’d rather raise Leo on her own—and she had the means to do so—than accept a part-time, half-committed relationship with his father.

She wanted it all, or she wanted nothing.

And perhaps today was the day to find out exactly which way it would be.

Max’s condo was close to the real estate office, so she headed that way. Her plan was simple—wake him, tell him her expectations, and gauge his reactions.

At his building, she took the elevator up to the third floor, strolled down the hall and around the corner to his unit, and knocked on the door.

The time was almost nine. Most days, he didn’t schedule meetings until lunch, using his mornings to make calls.

He didn’t come to the door.

She knocked again.

Suddenly, she wondered if there was a reason he’d never given her a key.

That thought niggled at her as the door jerked open.

A woman stood framed in the doorway. She wore a man’s white collared shirt and nothing else, or so it seemed. Her long, dark blond hair fell over one shoulder, and she blinked several times at Lilly with big brown eyes smudged with eyeliner.

And all Lilly could think of in that instant was that she looked like someone she’d seen once in a movie.

But this wasn’t a movie.

“Yes?” the woman said.

“I have an appointment with Max Oliver.” Lilly lied. “Nine o’clock.”

“Oh. Come on in.” She waved her into the condo. The condo that she had picked out for Max, all those months ago. Shit. Over a year ago.

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