Mr. Smithfield - Louise Bay Page 0,68

should. But I didn’t want to hear it.

“Bethany’s fine. That’s all I need to know,” I said as I bent to place a kiss on her neck. She smelled like almonds and rainfall and I wanted to dive into her scent and lie in it for a while.

“Yes, I think it was good. When’s the next visit?” she asked.

I groaned. “I don’t know. Do we have to talk about this?”

“But you must be pleased it went well?” she asked, and I stepped back, dropping my arms to my sides and heading to the fridge to get a beer.

“Like I said, as long as Bethany’s okay. I wish it didn’t have to happen at all.” I twisted the lid off my beer and took a swig.

“But she’s her mother. And in a few years, Bethany won’t even remember that she left.”

She was so naïve. “In a few years, Penelope will be long gone. Believe me, Autumn.”

I glanced at Autumn, who was frowning at me, confused. “You think she’ll leave again? What makes you say that?”

“She did it once. It’s bound to happen again.” I’d seen it a thousand times with my father. If they left once, they’d keep on leaving. It was how people were made. I’d been broken when she left. Devastated for me and for Bethany. But I’d built myself back, piece by piece. I was happy now. Why couldn’t she have just stayed away? Bethany didn’t need her. I certainly didn’t. Our meeting that Penelope had insisted on had been ludicrous. Why would she think I would be prepared to take her back? After all these years, she really thought I was the desperate fool who would just fall to my knees in relief and beg her to come back into our lives.

She was delusional. I wanted nothing to do with her and I never would. If I didn’t think it would hurt Bethany, I would have fought her every step on custody. I’d prefer her to slink off back to wherever she’d gone and never come back.

“But she’s older now,” Autumn said. “She said she felt too young.” Autumn followed me over to the sofa. “Presumably if she’s back, she’s over that now.”

I wanted to get naked. Have incredible sex. Sleep. In that order, preferably. But Autumn was like a dog with a bone. “Don’t be naïve. She’ll be off again next time she’s bored and if she’s bonded with Bethany, I’ll be left to pick up the pieces. Again.” Bethany hadn’t noticed when her mother left the first time. She’d been too young but this time she could cause real damage. “She should understand the potential to cause harm at this age. She’s just being selfish.” I’d have to limit the amount of time Bethany saw Penelope over the next few months, until she left again. That way I could minimize the damage.

“You don’t think she’ll stick around? Maybe she’s changed.”

I rolled my eyes. “People don’t change. I’m just entering some kind of cycle where I have to protect Bethany as best as I can and prepare her for when Penelope takes off again.”

Autumn tucked her knees under her chin as we sat together in silence. “How can you be so certain? I know she left before, but people make mistakes.”

“And are destined to repeat them,” I replied. It was nice that Autumn saw the best in people, but she was being ridiculously naïve. She’d not experienced the reality of the world which presented the evidence very clearly: people didn’t change and second chances were always wasted. “I’ve seen it all before.” I tipped my head back on the sofa. I’d lived this cycle once already.

“I thought she just left once? Did she walk out before?”

“Not her,” I said, remembering the arguments. The flowers. The door banging. The late-night pounding on the doors.

Autumn slid her hand into mine and squeezed. I was taking my bad mood out on her. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know people like I did.

“My father cheated on my mother. A lot. She’d make him leave and then he’d come back. Say he’d ended it. Apologize. Assure her that it would never happen again. She’d take him back. Then a few months later the cycle would start all over again. Each time he convinced her that he’d changed, that he deserved a second chance. But he was always the same weak, pathetic liar. And she always fell for it.”

I wouldn’t make the same mistake. My mother had been frightened to divorce