Who We Were Before by Leah Mercer Read Free Book Online

eyes towards it, the same way I have countless other times this past year . It’s normally occupied, but that person is never Zoe. There’s no reason to think that this time, it’ll be any different. And even if it was her, she’s probably long forgotten me.
    Still, I have to check. As usual, someone is sitting there, and it does look like a woman – hardly something to shout about, since the chance is 50:50. I squint, only just making out the back and forth movement of what looks like knitting needles, and my heart jumps. How many people knit? And on that particular bench?
    The same dark hair, lovely curvy legs and pixie-like face come into view, and before I get any closer, I duck behind a tree. I’ve no idea what to say to her! Shit, I hope she hasn’t seen me. First the lame pick-up line, and now she’s going to think I’m stalking her. You’d think after all this time, I’d have come up with an opening gambit, but my brain is blank.
    She makes a move as if to gather her things, and I jerk out from behind the thick trunk. Even if she does reject me, I’m not going to miss out on talking to her again. Striding towards her, I can hear my pulse whooshing in my ears. I wish I’d had more of that wine at dinner.
    ‘Still have those socks?’ The words fly from my mouth and I mutter a curse under my breath as my cheeks heat up. I stop in front of the bench, jamming my hands in my pockets in a way that I hope looks casual, and not as if I have a misshapen dick.
    Her head flies up and her coffee-brown eyes meet mine, the eyes that have been haunting me since I first met her. They widen in what I hope is recognition, then crinkle at the corners as she smiles. ‘You!’ The word bursts from her in a laugh. ‘I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.’
    ‘Did you want to?’ I make the question sound like a joke, but I’m serious. After all, she never did come that night.
    She nods. ‘Yeah, of course I did. And I’m so sorry I never made it to see you, like we arranged. There was a problem with the Tube, and I guess by the time I got here, you were gone. I didn’t have your mobile to let you know.’
    Relief rushes through me and I lower myself down beside her on the bench, trying to keep my eyes from the rise of her breasts underneath the tight white shirt. So she did come, I think, breathing in the soft scent of her perfume. I knew I should have waited longer. If I hadn’t been approaching hypothermia, I would have.
    A warm glow builds in my stomach, like I’ve downed a shot of whisky, and I turn to face her. ‘So, do you?’
    ‘Do I what?’ she asks, her brow furrowing in a cute way.
    ‘Do you still have those socks?’ I grin as she rummages around in her handbag, thinking that there’s no way she still has them in there, but hoping, too, that she does. That means she’s been thinking about me as much as I have about her.
    She holds them up triumphantly, and my smile gets bigger. God, those things are hideous. ‘I knew something good would come from never cleaning out this bag. I do still have them.’ She tilts her head. ‘And are you going to make good on your promise?’
    ‘Well, that depends.’ I pause, my gut churning. ‘Are you going to go out with me tonight?’
    ‘Of course,’ she says. ‘I’ve been waiting a year.’
    I’m grinning so hard my cheeks hurt, but I can’t help it. I take the socks from her, jimmy off my shoes and black socks, then pull on the pink knitted ones. They barely come to the back of my heel, they’re itchy as hell, and I look ridiculous, but I don’t care.
    If I could, I’d stay here in this spot, with her, forever.

12
    EDWARD, SATURDAY, 3.30 P.M.
    A s soon as I hang up from my call to Fiona, guilt prickles. Yes, my wife has abandoned me here without so much as a word, but I am married . . . if that still means something. I glance down at my ring, remembering just how much it used to mean, back when I believed that bond could carry us through