Page 37 of Due Process
Our conversation had been brief, yet monumental. We had a trying time ahead of us, but I knew we would be okay. My boys would be okay. And for the first time in two straight months, I finally believed it.
Knock. Knock.
“Get the door, would you, Stella?” Dad screamed from his room as I turned off the stove. I was covered in flour and icing—the remnants of baking cupcakes with a toddler who held nil restraint.
Without checking the peephole, I opened the front door and was immediately hit with regret.
Logan pushed past me with little more than a grunt in search of Eli. Curtis stood on the landing, looking more edible than my freshly baked desserts.
He wore a tight black tee with dark jeans, his thick shades shielding his eyes from the sun that hit his skinjust right.
“You’ve got a little something on your face there, Smelly Stella,” he said with mirth, before he rubbed his thumb against the corner of my mouth.
I was struck dumb, my brain scrambling for words that would make any kind of sense. I couldn’t find any.
“I smell,” I blurted, horror coating my face as realisation sank in. I was still in my pyjamas and hadn’t even showered yet. Hence my word vomit that came out like some pubescent teen without a clue.
Curtis chuckled, and as he went to push past, I caught his whisper, “You smell good to me… like sugar.”Oh my god. Is it hot? It is definitely hot.“Tell me there’s some cupcakes left…” he finished, before venturing further in the house, while I immediately combusted on the spot.
What just happened?
As I went to veer for the bathroom to make myself somewhat respectable, a scream from the doorway made me flinch.
Running up the driveway was my best friend, Daisy, her petite frame lagging from the two gigantic suitcases she dragged behind her.
Without any hesitance, she dumbed the bags in the doorway and enveloped me in a crushing hug.
“Huh? How are you here?” I stammered, happiness sinking into my voice as her signature flowery smell infected my lungs.She’s here. She’s real.
“Your daddy organised it, of course. That man has a good head on his shoulders, and I bet a good head between his—”
“Alright, thanks for stopping by. You’ve overstayed your welcome.”
“Fine. I’ll lay off the daddy talk.”
I groaned. “Please, do us all a favour and don’t ever call him that again.”
Then, my little firecracker of a friend pulled out of our prolonged embrace, her gaze catching on and slowly dissecting my dishevelled state. “Oh, honey, this just won’t do. Lucky I came prepared.”
“Prepared for what?”
She winked. “Your divorce party.”
“Daisy,” I said in warning, knowing her definition of party was a lot different from mine.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got everything covered.”
That was what I was worried about.
Chapter 21
FELIX
The night was still and the air crisp as I staggered out of the cab and up the driveway to Dylan’s Foster’s house.
I was once a welcomed guest, able to enter his abode at will. Now, I was a trespasser, sneaking onto his property in the early hours of the morning.
It had been nearly a week since that disaster in the boardroom, and I’d done nothing but percolate and spiral. That day just happened to be extra special as my test results had come in. It seems despite using a condomevery single time,the rancid bitch and her dirty snatch managed to give me Chlamydia!
